Wings of Deception

The massive doors of the assessment center stood before me—once more.

I entered, the subtle aroma of antiseptic and new papers enveloped the atmosphere, blending with the soft whispers of the employees and applicants dispersed throughout the space. Fluorescent bulbs buzzed above, illuminating the area with a sterile light

A few heads turned as I walked in. Understandable. My new look was a bit much.

The outfit Camille had crafted for me was undeniably extravagant. A flowing white coat with golden embroidery lined the sleeves, intricate celestial patterns forming constellations that shimmered subtly under the light. Beneath it, a high-collared black tunic hugged my frame, accentuating the contrast. Gold accents lined the shoulders, trailing down like streaks of shooting stars. The finishing touch? The pristine white angel mask obscuring my face, smooth and expressionless save for two elongated slits where my eyes peeked through. It gave me the air of something divine. An angel, untouchable and distant.

Which was exactly the point.

At the reception desk, Rebecca had been looking at a screen when I approached, her fingers flying over the keyboard. When she finally glanced up, she froze.

Her mouth opened slightly in shock, and I could almost hear the unspoken what the hell? echoing in her mind.

A few feet away, Evelyn reacted much differently. Her expression immediately soured, pinching the bridge of her nose before letting out a slow exhale.

"...Mister Angel," she muttered as if the very words caused her physical pain.

I tilted my head slightly. "Oh? You know of me?"

She fixed me with a deadpan stare. "I wonder why that is? Perhaps it's because you announced yourself to be above both Mr. Fox and Mr. Dust around a month ago."

Rebecca barely held back a snort.

I chuckled, stepping forward. "Oh, Evelyn. It's best not to dig for more than you need to know."

Her eyes sharpened at that. "How do you know my name?"

I let the silence stretch, then let out a soft laugh. "Intriguing, no? Call it a miracle of sorts." I stepped past her, approaching Rebecca. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to be evaluated. I have a flight to catch—to the USA."

Rebecca, still looking vaguely stunned, snapped out of it and nodded. "R-right. Just head inside for the evaluation."

The process was familiar though it seemed they upgrade their systems.

I stepped into the designated evaluation chamber, a sterile, dimly lit room with smooth metallic walls. At its center stood a single pedestal, upon which rested the evaluation orb—an intricate device humming with faint energy, its surface a swirling mix of blues and silvers.

Evelyn stood by the entrance, arms crossed, her sharp eyes analyzing me with unwavering focus. I knew exactly what she was doing—using her Psychological Insight to gauge if I was lying, insane, or something in between.

The problem? My bravado wasn't an act.

There was no hesitation, no nervous ticks, no subtle giveaways. I truly believed every word I said, and that confidence threw off her analysis. Her ability genuinely couldn't tell if I was a master manipulator, delusional, or something else entirely.

I met her gaze briefly before placing my palm against the orb.

It was cold at first, but then warmth pulsed beneath my fingertips, data surging through my body as the machine read my capabilities. Lines of energy flickered to life, scanning every inch of my being, every skill I had acquired. A low hum filled the chamber as numbers and text began appearing on the screen beside me.

The final results flashed across the display:

[MR. ANGEL | C-RANK ASTRONAUT]

Zero-Gravity Maneuvering (Lv. 4) – Enhances movement and coordination in microgravity environments, ensuring efficiency when performing tasks in space.

Spacecraft Operation (Lv. 3) – Improves control over spacecraft systems, including navigation, propulsion, and communication, both in orbit and during re-entry.

Scientific Research in Space (Lv. 3) – Boosts ability to conduct experiments, analyze data, and document findings in microgravity conditions.

Mechanical Mastery (Lv. 4) – Provides expertise in diagnosing, repairing, and optimizing mechanical systems across various fields.

Astrophysics Understanding (Lv. 5) – Increases comprehension of celestial mechanics, cosmic phenomena, and space weather, aiding in research and navigation.

Hand-to-Hand Combat (Lv. 1) - Enhances physical proficiency in unarmed combat, improving speed, strength, and the ability to anticipate and counter attacks.

Strategist (Lv. 4) – Improves planning and problem-solving abilities

I stepped back, lowering my hand as the machine powered down. They had upgraded their display system.

Evelyn's frown deepened as she studied the display. "Mr. Angel," she muttered, her tone laced with suspicion.

"You sound doubtful," I mused, adjusting my coat.

"You share the Strategy skill at level four with Mr. Fox and Mr. Dust," she pointed out, eyes narrowing. "Not a coincidence."

I offered a small smile beneath my mask. "We think a lot."

She folded her arms. "Who's 'we'?"

I chuckled softly but didn't answer. Instead, I turned and strode toward the exit, my golden-lined coat trailing behind me.

I had a flight to catch and she didn't bother to stop me.

I exited the evaluation center, making my way toward the nearest bus stop. Taking a car was out of the question—too easy to track. A bus, though? Much harder to trace.

As I boarded, I found an empty seat near the back and settled in. The hum of the vehicle, the chatter of passengers, the rhythmic stop-and-go of traffic—it all faded into the background as I let my thoughts drift.

Everything was proceeding smoothly.

For now.

—

The airport was, predictably, a nightmare.

It wasn't the crowds or the security checks that made it difficult—it was the fact that I was very clearly not dressed like a normal traveler.

I ignored the stares as I made my way through the terminal, my stride confident, my posture relaxed. The real problem came at the metal detectors.

"Sir, you need to remove your mask," the TSA agent instructed.

I smiled beneath it. "I can't."

The agent's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

"Personal reasons."

His frown deepened. "We can't let you through if you don't—"

Another agent stepped forward, glancing between me and the screen displaying my ID details. He hesitated. "...He's clear," he finally muttered.

"But—"

"Let him through. He's not the first person in the world to hide his identity."

The first agent still looked skeptical but eventually nodded. "Fine. But if anything seems off, we pull him aside."

I nodded in acknowledgment and strode forward.

Not the first person in the world to keep their identity hidden.

But certainly the first to have four.

—

I reached my gate with time to spare. As I sat down, gazing out the window at the runway, I heard footsteps approaching.

A familiar voice spoke.

"...Well, damn. If it isn't Mr. Angel himself."

I turned my head slightly.

Elliot.

Except this time, he wasn't scowling.

No sneers. No insults.

Just wide eyes filled with something dangerously close to admiration.

I exhaled softly. This just got interesting.