An hour had passed since Donovan's arrival.
Now, Angelita sat beside him on a long public bench, tucked between two small gardens in the quiet part of the city. People walked by, unaware of the divine presence among them. Donovan remained silent, his golden eyes scanning the surroundings with a strange detachment—as if this reality was merely one of many he'd seen.
Angelita sat stiffly next to him, her hands resting on her lap, her gaze flickering nervously toward the towering man beside her.
Donovan's height was overwhelming—a full two meters, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his posture both elegant and intimidating.
"Why is Creator-sama so tall...?" Angelita thought, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her eyes went wide, comically white from nervous panic.
"You don't need to worry about my height," Donovan said suddenly.
Angelita jolted. "Ah—I forgot he can read my mind..." she muttered in embarrassment, covering her face with both hands as her ears turned bright red.
A moment of silence fell between them, stretching on like a fragile thread. The streetlights glowed softly behind them, casting elongated shadows, while Donovan stared up toward the sky.
Angelita followed his gaze. "Oh… do you like Alpha?" she asked with a small smile.
"You call the moon Alpha," Donovan replied calmly, though he already knew the answer.
"Yeah! Just look at how big it is up there—it's huge," she said, her voice bright with childish awe.
Donovan tilted his head slightly, observing the moon. "The Alpha moon has a diameter of approximately 6,779 kilometers, and its mass is about 0.1 relative to this planet."
Angelita nodded quickly, eyes sparkling. "Yes! Yes! And it's about three million kilometers away from here!"
"I know," Donovan said, his voice low but not unkind.
Angelita leaned forward, still gazing at the moon. "Also, this planet has a diameter of around thirty thousand kilometers, right?"
"You're correct," Donovan said.
Angelita turned to him with wonder. "You really do know everything… Oh Creator," she said, her expression full of admiration, stars dancing in her eyes.
But Donovan didn't respond. He simply stared at the Alpha moon in silence, as if it held answers he alone could hear.
Angelita glanced at him again, then slowly spoke, her tone softer, more reverent. "I heard a legend about this moon…"
Donovan turned his gaze to her.
She began:
"Before time existed—when there was only darkness and infinite possibility—the Creator formed the first world. And within it, He planted the light of life."
"But that light was incomplete. So He crafted the moon—His second eye—to watch over creation when the first was closed."
"On nights when the moon is full, it's said that the Creator sees everything. He hears the prayers of the forgotten, and witnesses the tears of the unseen."
"The moon isn't just a celestial body. It's the Silent Observer. It records what mortals cannot express: every life lost, every broken promise, every love that blooms and fades… all stored within the moon's heart."
She paused for breath, her voice trembling with emotion.
"But there's more. The legend says:
'When the moon is filled with sorrow, it will weep crimson tears—drawing closer to this world to restore the balance… or to extinguish the light forever.'"
Angelita looked at Donovan, her voice now barely a whisper.
"That's why people around the world don't watch the moon as a symbol of beauty… but as a mirror of our sins."
She drew in a deep breath and continued.
"There's also an old tale—about an ancient race said to have been born from the moon's first tear. They're called the Children of the Second Light."
"They say this forgotten race possesses a mysterious ability… one that awakens only when sunlight vanishes. A power moved not by strength—but by grief or compassion."
She finished speaking, her words drifting away like fading mist. The silence between them was different now—heavier, more meaningful.
Donovan, still watching the Alpha moon,
"Angelita," Donovan said calmly, his voice carrying the weight of certainty, "I am not a god for you to pray to."
She blinked, confused. His words struck her like cold water.
"When I watched you bow your head and whisper those words, calling out to bring me here… I understood your heart. But I am not a god who answers prayers. I simply do what I choose. You should understand that by now."
Angelita stayed quiet for a moment, her lips trembling slightly as she looked up at him—two meters of quiet power sitting beside her like a mountain under moonlight.
Then, suddenly, her voice cracked through the silence, "EHHHH!? But you created the world! How can you not be a god!?" she said with exaggerated disbelief, hands flailing in the air as if trying to grasp logic itself.
Donovan didn't even blink. "You will understand everything in time. For now, these questions don't matter."
"O-Okay…" Angelita muttered, deflating like a balloon, hugging her knees to her chest.
She adjusted her posture, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the trembling in her voice. "So… how will you train me?"
Donovan looked at her with those pale yellow eyes—eyes that held nothing, yet seemed to contain everything.
She continued, her words gaining urgency. "The academy I got accepted into… They announced a virtual battle scheduled in three days. I need your help. I need to grow stronger—to survive. Please."
Her gaze dropped to the grass below, fingers clenched together tightly. "I don't want to be expelled. Not after finally being accepted."
Still, Donovan remained silent.
She glanced up again. "Can you… maybe give me an ability or two? I mean, you're the one who gave me that Awakening, so maybe—"
"Not possible."
His response was immediate. Cold. Final.
Angelita's eyes widened, her breath catching. But Donovan continued without pause.
"Giving you abilities beyond your current limits will do nothing but burden you. You wouldn't be able to control them, no matter how hard you trained. And more importantly…" he narrowed his gaze slightly, "relying on power given to you will only stop you from discovering the strength within yourself."
Angelita's expression softened. She understood that truth—even if it hurt. Her shoulders trembled as she nodded slowly.
Then, without warning, a single tear slipped from her eye and fell silently to the ground. Her voice cracked. "What do I do now? I don't want to lose this chance. I don't want to go back to being invisible again…"
Donovan finally turned his full attention to her. "Then the answer is simple," he said. "You need to acquire key abilities on your own."
Angelita blinked and slowly raised her head. "H-How, Creator-sama?"
Donovan folded his arms. "First, you'll need an ability called Stealing. With it, you'll be able to take powers from your opponents under certain conditions."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"And a skill called Enhanced Senses. It will sharpen your perception, allowing you to sense the flow of energy, movement, emotion… even lies."
Angelita wiped her tears and looked up at him with renewed hope, her eyes sparkling. "How do I get those? Where do I even begin?"
Donovan stood. "Take me somewhere we won't be interrupted. I'll show you."
Angelita jumped to her feet, bursting with energy. "Okay! I know the perfect place!"
And so, the two began walking—Angelita leading the way, her steps light with excitement. Behind her, Donovan followed calmly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black suit, his presence still and unshaken.
The city lights faded behind them as they moved farther and farther away—into the dark edge of a quiet forest where shadows breathed between trees and moonlight filtered through the leaves like silver threads.
In that place, something was about to begin.
Angelita came to a stop in a small clearing deep within the forest. Soft beams of moonlight filtered through the canopy, lighting up the space like a sacred stage hidden away from the world.
She turned to Donovan with a soft, nostalgic smile. "This is the perfect spot. I come here often when I feel… down."
Her voice was quiet, nearly lost in the hush of the forest. Donovan silently scanned the area with those cold, pale yellow eyes. Then, without a word, he walked over to a large moss-covered rock, sat on it like a king on a throne, and closed his eyes.
Angelita tilted her head in confusion. "Um… What are you doing?"
A visible question mark might as well have been floating over her head as she stared at him.
Then, Donovan spoke—his eyes still closed, his voice like a still wind before a storm.
"Angelita… do you believe equality exists?"
The question hit her unexpectedly.
She blinked, thrown off by the sudden philosophical turn. Then she gave a small, half-hearted smile. "Well, as I see—"
"Stop lying."
Donovan's words cut through her voice like a knife of ice.
"There is no such thing as equality. It's a fiction—something the powerful invented to soothe their own conscience and tighten their control. The world doesn't function on fairness. It never has."
His tone was flat, absolute.
Angelita froze, her attempted smile vanishing. She looked down at the soil beneath her feet. Unconsciously, her hand clutched her opposite arm. Her chest tightened.
Her mind drifted back—back to the life she had before the Awakening. She saw herself walking among others, their whispers like knives, their stares full of disgust. A nobody. A girl with no power. People insulted her openly, called her useless, ignored her as if she didn't matter. As if she didn't exist.
A quiet breath escaped her lips.
He was right.
"That's the law of survival…" she murmured, voice distant. "The strong trample the weak."
Donovan opened his eyes, fixing her with a gaze that felt like it reached inside her chest and exposed the truth she tried to bury. He remained seated like a shadow carved in stone.
"Good," he said simply. "That means you're finally beginning to understand. Now I can train you."
He stood from the rock slowly, the way storms rise—inevitable and without sound.
Angelita stepped back slightly as he approached. His tall frame and broad shoulders cast a long shadow in the moonlight. He stopped just a few feet in front of her.
"But here's the real question…" His tone remained unchanged. "Are you ready to surpass yourself?"
She looked up at him, startled by his sudden closeness. The emptiness in his eyes wasn't cruel—it was honest. Brutally honest.
There was a pause.
Then Angelita shook her head side to side with an exaggerated, playful motion. "Yes! Yes, I am!" she said brightly, trying to lighten the tension, though her cheeks were flushed with nerves.
Donovan gave no reaction. He simply stepped away, placing distance between them again. His hands slipped into his pockets with lazy precision.
"Good."
His eyes narrowed slightly, like a teacher preparing to demonstrate something only he could fully grasp.
"The first ability you'll need is called Stealing. It's the easiest of the core skills, and the most dangerous if misused."
Angelita scratched the back of her head, puzzled. "How do I get it?"
Donovan tilted his head and smirked faintly, though the gesture was barely there.
"Oh, you'll see," he said simply, his voice carrying an eerie calm.
The trees swayed gently around them, and the air suddenly felt thicker—like something unseen was waking up.
Training had officially begun.
Angelita kept her eyes fixed on Donovan, who stood at a distance—silent, unmoving, his hands in his pockets as always. His gaze never left her, sharp and unreadable, like a judge waiting for the verdict he already knew.
The forest was still. Even the wind held its breath.
Then, without a word, Donovan raised his right hand—and with a calm, precise motion, he snapped his fingers.
A sound like glass breaking echoed unnaturally through the trees. The air twisted, and the shadows themselves stirred as if called by name. Blackness began to gather near him, swirling into a spiraling form. It grew, thickened, until it shaped itself into something that made Angelita freeze where she stood.
The shadows molded into a human figure—her figure.
It was her shape down to the smallest detail: her slim frame, her long black hair that flowed behind her like quiet ribbons of night, the curve of her hips, the rise of her chest, full and softly rising under the torn white fabric of her uniform. Every feature was captured—yet it was all made of darkness. No color. No light. Just a living silhouette of herself.
Angelita's sky blue eyes widened to comical proportions, her mouth trembling as she pointed at the dark doppelgänger in shock.
"W-What is th-this?!" she cried, her voice cracking as she stumbled backward. Her face contorted in both fear and absurd disbelief, eyes turning into pale, exaggerated circles of panic like in a slapstick cartoon.
Donovan remained completely unaffected.
"This is your training," he said flatly, as if he were telling her the weather.
Angelita gulped, still staring at the dark figure that stood silently, mirroring her posture but not moving. Cautiously, she took a step closer.
Then, summoning her courage, she swung her fist directly at the shadowy clone's chest.
Her hand passed straight through it—harmlessly.
But before she could even react, her fist kept going and slammed into the tree standing behind the figure. A sharp jolt of pain shot up her arm.
"AAAAAHH!" she screamed, biting her lip and clutching her hand. She dropped to her knees in dramatic agony. A few oversized tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks in an overly theatrical fashion, glittering in the moonlight like droplets of glass.
"N-Nothing happened, O Creator!" she cried, her voice overly sorrowful and ridiculous, holding her injured hand to her chest like a tragic actress in a stage play.
Donovan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"I didn't mean that, watermelon head," he said dryly.
"What... s-so wh-what did you mean, Creator?" Angelita asked, her voice trembling with confusion.
Donovan, without answering immediately, shifted his gaze to the dark version of Angelita—the shadowy figure formed from pure darkness, identical in shape and stature to her, but devoid of color or light. He walked toward the figure and gently placed his hand on its head.
"This version represents your doubts… and your self-denial," he said, his voice calm and detached, before turning his golden, unreadable eyes back to Angelita.
His words stirred something in her chest. A version of myself... made from doubt and self-denial? It sounded like nonsense, but everything about Donovan, the Creator, proved again and again that the impossible was often the truth.
"So... what do I do if I can't fight it physically?" she asked, still struggling to grasp the point.
"Try fighting with emotion," Donovan replied, as though that answered everything.
Angelita hesitated but stepped forward. Her steps were light, uncertain, like walking on invisible threads. She stood in front of the shadowy copy of herself and stared into its eyes—eyes that mirrored her own, but hollow and empty, as if stripped of all warmth.
She took a deep breath.
Then, suddenly and without warning, Angelita wrapped her arms around her shadowy twin in a tight embrace.
The dark version seemed confused, even startled. It remained still for a moment—but then, as if something within it cracked open, it slowly raised its arms and returned the hug. The motion was hesitant… fragile… but real.
"Thaaaaaank youuuu," the dark Angelita whispered. Her voice was distorted, like a broken echo of Angelita's, stretched thin by pain.
Then it began to dissolve.
The shadow's body crumbled into soft black particles, dissipating into the air like dust caught in light. Angelita didn't move, holding onto what was no longer there. She looked up to the sky as the last of it vanished, her eyes wide with silent understanding.
And then, the System's voice returned, loud and clear in her mind.
— Notification —
— Unique Ability Acquired: Stealing
— This ability allows its user to steal skills, abilities, or energies from others—but only at moments when the target's "heart is exposed." This includes moments of pain, anger, hesitation, or despair.
Angelita's mouth dropped open.
"W-Whaaaaat!? I got an ability? Just like that?" Her voice sparkled with joy. Her eyes became starry and animated, and she began hopping around in place, her hands waving with exaggerated excitement. "I did it! I really did it!"
From a distance, Donovan watched her celebration with his usual, unreadable calm.
She dashed toward him. "O Creator! Did you see that? I got it all on my own!"
"I saw," he said simply, unmoved but not unkind.
She grinned brightly, sweat still on her forehead, chest rising and falling beneath her uniform. Her breathing slowed. "So, this ability… it's mine now? I can use it?"
"Yes. But remember something important," Donovan said as he placed a hand behind his back, his posture casual. "The 'Stealing' ability is still in its initial form. It's low-level, undeveloped. There are conditions for its use."
Angelita's smile softened into a more curious expression. "Conditions...?"
She looked at her own hands, then clenched them into fists as if trying to feel the ability inside.
"How do I develop it? And the other skills I might get?"
Donovan's tone remained matter-of-fact. "That's simple. You already hold the key."
"Eh—EHHHHH!?" Angelita exclaimed, blinking dramatically. "Really!?"
"Yes," Donovan said with a calm nod. "Just as abilities take time to awaken, developing them depends on your training and personal style. You must place yourself in difficult, even painful circumstances to evolve faster."
Angelita's face tensed a bit at that.
"But... you possess the gift of Infinite Evolution. That alone is the foundation of endless growth."
"So, wait…" she said slowly. "Does that mean my abilities will evolve automatically?"
Donovan shook his head. "No. Infinite Evolution only accelerates growth. It makes the process easier. But you still have to train. Once you reach a certain threshold of mastery, the development will become more autonomous."
Angelita lowered her gaze, deep in thought, then nodded.
"I see. Then… what do I do now?"
"Go home and rest. I'll train you in your next ability tomorrow," Donovan replied.
Angelita smiled widely, brushing strands of her black hair behind her ear.
"Well… thank you, Creator. This was a wonderful day." She closed her eyes and gave a soft, heartfelt smile.
Donovan didn't respond with words. He simply nodded, and the silence between them felt like a respectful farewell.
Angelita turned, walking away slowly before breaking into a light jog. She disappeared beyond the forest's edge, the leaves parting for her like they recognized her growing strength.
Donovan watched her until she vanished.
"Great potential..." he murmured. "But just as there is light… there is also darkness."
He turned his gaze to the heavens. The sky, once clear, seemed to shiver with unseen tension.
"Many of them are watching. Waiting. The moment her potential fully blooms... they'll try to take it for themselves."
With that, Donovan sat down on the forest floor, crossing his legs in a meditative posture. He closed his eyes. His body went still, but around him, the air itself seemed to pause—like reality held its breath.
Elsewhere...
In an undefined space where light and shadow blurred together, a long, cold table stretched across the void. Around it sat figures—blurry and indistinct, cloaked in mystery.
"It's done… everything proceeds as planned," one of them said flatly.
"We cannot tolerate the existence of lower life forms any longer. Only the elite should remain. However… if we interfere by initiating a virtual battle at WB Academy, we risk losing those with unique gifts," another voice said.
A deep, chilling laugh suddenly echoed across the chamber.
Everyone turned their heads toward the largest throne at the far end of the table.
From that throne, a woman sat with a haunting elegance. Her voice was unmistakably feminine—but it was cold, sharper than a dagger, and infused with a terrifying certainty.
"Pointless fear. If they are truly elite… they'll survive the trial."
"B-But—!" someone tried to protest, but the moment they opened their mouth, a blindingly radiant halo burst into existence behind the woman's head. The halo gleamed in shades of white and sky-blue—both beautiful and fearsome.
"I follow my leader's will… and this is what she desires," the woman said with a sinister calm.
No further arguments came. One by one, the seated figures began to rise and vanish into the fog.
Only the woman remained.
She pulled out a file from a stack on the table and opened it. A photo of Angelita stared back at her, along with several pages of detailed information.
"Interesting… very interesting," she whispered, her voice colder than before.
Her icy expression suddenly melted into a wide, disturbing smile.
She placed the file gently on the table in front of her—and began to laugh.