Seraph Awakened

Ren Kurosawa’s eyes slowly opened to a faint call.
White swallowed his view. A blank space with no beginning or end blurred around him, almost as if it were a dream. He tried to adjust his eyes, tried to move his legs, but he had lost command of his body.

The call echoed again, clearer this time.
“Wake… my Seraph.”

He reached for his throat, his mouth opening as if to respond.
“Who’s there?” he managed to murmur.

No answer came. Only silence—and then, the space began to unravel and spin around him. His footing gave way. He fell into a void of light that pulled him downward. His hands rose in panic until everything went black.

Ren’s eyes snapped open. The afternoon sunlight cut through half-open curtains, its rays warm and blinding across his face. Sweat trickled down his forehead. His mind was heavy with confusion; for a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was—or if he was even alive this time.

A faint voice whispered somewhere beyond comprehension. He thought it might be inside his head. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he really was dead.

“Ren…” it called again, clearer now—soft, but insistent.

He squeezed his eyes shut and muttered, “I must still be dead. This isn’t real.”

The light around him dimmed as his surroundings sharpened. Posters on the wall, the worn edge of his desk, the digital clock blinking 2:02 p.m.

A sudden sting drew his focus to his hand. He lifted it closer and froze. A mark had etched across the back of his hand like a feather-shaped tattoo. He brushed his other hand over it, tracing the delicate pattern. The lines lay silent, as though they were waiting to be activated. Like an unused rune. 

“What the…?” he whispered, hesitant. This isn’t happening. It can’t be.

Then the voice returned, stronger this time. It carried personality, confidence, and the faintest trace of amusement. It felt as though it came from both the air in front of him and the center of his mind.

“You are not dead,” the voice said.

Ren flinched, eyes wide. “Then… what are you? Who are you?”

A shape began to form before him, hazy at first, like a dream struggling to take form. Every blink made her more solid, more tangible, until she stood there, radiant and unmistakable. A woman-shaped angel, luminous, her wings folding neatly behind her. Her eyes held both curiosity and quiet authority.

“My Seraph,” she said, her tone calm, neither harsh nor extravagant. “You have been chosen by me. My judgment. We are now bound together.”

Ren waved a hand in front of his face, muttering, “I’m dreaming. This is stress. My brain can’t be functioning this way.”

“Perhaps,” she replied lightly. “But the mark on your hand disagrees.”

She gestured toward his hand, and he noticed a faint pulse of light along the etched lines.

“That is proof of our connection. Haven’t you wondered what it was?”

Ren swallowed hard. “I… I don’t know. It wasn’t there a few hours ago, right?” His voice wavered, uncertain. “It was noon. The sky was… falling… and then I woke up.” He shook his head. “No. No way. This isn’t real.”

“Perhaps skepticism is wise,” she said, a faint smile on her lips. “But disbelief does not change truth.”

She extended her hand. A glowing screen materialized between them—digital, structured, and precise. Ren squinted as letters and numbers formed in front of him.

Ren Kurosawa
Age: 17
Race: Seraph
Class: None
HP: 100
MP: 1
Strength: 1
Magic: 1
Agility: 1
Intelligence: 1
Faith Points: 0

Traits: Skeptical toward divinity

Ren blinked and waved a hand through it, as if trying to swipe it away. “No way. There’s… there’s no way this is happening.”

“The system proves we are connected,” the angel said. “You are a Seraph now. Your abilities, your potential...everything is tied to me. Everything you do will affect our bond.”

Ren fell back onto the edge of his bed. His expression twisted with a mix of awe, fear, and a strange, reluctant humor. “I don’t… I don’t want this. I don’t want to be chosen. I don’t even believe in any of this!”

“You were chosen anyway,” she said, her voice steady, arms resting at her sides. “Do not squander the opportunity. I am already one with you. You will soon realize that not everyone is as lucky as you.”

“Lucky?” Ren snapped, eyes flicking toward the hovering stat board. “This will ruin any chance of a peaceful life.”

“Peaceful?” The angel laughed softly. “That was why we came. Surely you saw what was happening outside. It would have only grown worse. Without us, there would be no more humans within the month.”

Ren’s gaze drifted to the mark on his hand, then back to her. He clenched his fist. Whatever this was, he wouldn’t let anyone—angel or otherwise—change his life.

“Embrace what you can, and ignore what you cannot yet comprehend,” she said, her voice carrying a faint note of disappointment.

“I, Aira, will be by your side from now on.” Her wings opened fully, filling the room, the afternoon sun shining through her crystalline feathers. “I look forward to the heights you will reach.”

Ren exhaled slowly, his eyes wandering to the window. The thought struck him—how many others were having this same conversation right now? Outside his room, the city that had once drowned in chaos and fear was about to change forever.

He turned toward the clock on his desk.
2:14 p.m.