Below, on the ground, my friend Junho ran into the open street. He was worried about me—fighting in the sky.
"Kihyun… Please, survive."
Next to him, a black-haired girl and a grown man stepped out from behind a vendor's stall. One look in their eyes was enough to see—they feared for Zeno's life, the boy who hadn't listened to them.
"Why, Zeno…" the girl muttered with desperation in her eyes. "Why?"
Above, I stood across from Zeno in the sky. Our wings hovered, ready to clash at any moment.
"Tell me… why are you doing this?"
Zeno lowered his gaze, lost in thought. He looked out over the city beneath us.
He despised the faces of the frightened people recording us with their phones. Every last one of them.
"This world is rotten to the core," Zeno said, casting a cold glance at me. "Humans call demons murderers, yet even sharing this Earth with us, they never stopped killing each other."
The weapon in his hand vanished.
