The Angel began to chant in Secret Script, with a melodious voice that mesmerized anyone who heard it, reaching a high, lamenting pitch as if heralding a miracle, yet also like a harbinger of the apocalypse. A city-scale miracle of such magnitude could inevitably trigger a catastrophe, ensnaring all citizens.
When Xu Yang heard this singing, a thread of worry unfurled in his heart as if an invisible hand had unlocked a Pandora's box within him, and his first thought was one of repentance, a reflection on his past mistakes.
In the past twenty-eight years, what was the gravest mistake he had made?
Xu Yang had no idea.
Looking back on his past actions, he could not consider himself spotless, but he could say that his conscience was clear. He vaguely remembered committing some grave error, but it had slipped completely from his memory, leaving only a thorn in his heart, now stirred awake by the Angel's singing.