Earthly Realm, Year 2007 of the Second Earth

Fifteen-year-old Lualhati longed for a life of normalcy, where she could laugh with friends, have crushes, watch Kdramas, and do what every normal teenager did. But how could she? How could she turn a blind eye to the suffering she saw every day, to the very real damage caused by fallen?

With her birthright being that of an heir to the position of Head Babaylan of the East of the Keeper of Secrets; a secret movement of those who protect civilians against nefarious Fallen Angels and Nephilim causing havoc to the mortal world.

She knew that she couldn't outrun her destiny. The weight of duty was always there, just beneath the surface, pulling her back. Still, in the quiet place of her dreams, she let herself enjoy the simplicity of the moment. At least tonight, she could pretend to be just another teenager, with thoughts of any other possible future but the one she was destined for.

Lualhati slipped out her bedroom window under the cloak of moonlight, heart pounding. Her father had forbidden her from going...more training, more weapon drills, but she needed a break. Jannah's birthday party was her one escape.

Her phone buzzed.

Jannah: girl u coming or not??

She typed a quick reply, grinning. But the moment she reached the hill behind Jannah's house—where an old balete tree loomed, her skin prickled with dread.

Smoke.

The scent of burning tabako drifted on the breeze.

Lualhati didn't just hear the Kapre. She felt him.

The way smoke curled around her like fingers.

The way her heartbeat faltered, then surged.

He dropped from the balete tree in one impossible lunge...thunderous, shaking the dirt loose beneath her feet. His body towered, muscles gnarled like twisted roots, his teeth glinting beneath cracked lips.

"Disturb my peace again, little babaylan," he rumbled, voice like falling stone, "and I will grind your bones to ash."

Lualhati's breath hitched. Her instincts screamed to run, but something in her blood burned hotter.

She didn't flinch.

Instead, she squared her stance, eyes hard, hands clenched.

"I said," she hissed, "come down here and try."

The Kapre howled, swinging a tree limb like a mace. It smashed into the ground where she'd been, splintering rock and soil. She rolled, scrambled, felt pain slash through her thigh, but didn't stop. Her training surged to the surface like a current long held back.

She focused. Called on the memory of the Balaraw. Not the blade itself, she had no weapon, but its essence. Its pulse, etched in her bones. She struck forward, palm-first, channeling force through spirit rather than steel. It landed in the center of his chest.

The Kapre stumbled.

Not much. But enough.

Smoke erupted from his mouth in fury. He roared again and grabbed her by the wrist. The world tilted. Pain flared white behind her eyes. She screamed, then twisted, drove her knee up into his jaw. Something cracked.

He dropped her.

She hit the earth hard, dirt filling her mouth, blood seeping from her elbow. Her blouse tore at the shoulder, fabric ripping open like paper.

Still, she stood.

She raised both hands, trembling but defiant.

Then something ancient stirred in her core.

A low hum. A pulse. Like the echo of drums.

Not from her.

From below her.

The soil lit faintly with sigils flaring underfoot.

And when the Kapre charged again, Lualhati screamed but not from fear, from fury and slammed her open palm to the ground. The earth responded.

Light arced through the grove.

The Kapre howled as his form unraveled into ash and wind.

Gone.

Lualhati collapsed to her knees, breathing hard. Sweat poured down her back. Her sleeve hung in shreds, soaked in blood and earth. Her new blouse, the one she had saved weeks for, skipping fishball breaks after training...was ruined.

Still, she stood.

Dirt crusted her jeans. Her leg throbbed. But she limped forward, refusing to look back.

By the time she reached the gate of their compound, her legs buckled.

Babaylans emerged from the shadows. Her father's circle that had been alerted by the sigils, maybe. They fanned around her, inspecting her wounds, whispering incantations, ready to lift her inside.

Lualhati shook her head.

"I'm fine," she rasped, blood at her lip.

"Anak—"

"I said I'm fine."

She staggered upright, refusing to cry.

Even as they wrapped her arm. Even as they asked what had happened.

Even as she lied—saying it was a shadow beast, not a Kapre.

Her face was stone. Her voice was ice.

Not here. Not now.

Only when her Lola Cassandra appeared...older, smaller than she remembered, but still cloaked in that same quiet gravity and took her by the hand...

Only then did she break.

They reached the ancestral house in silence. Lola guided her inside, up the stairs, into the old bathing room.

The moment the door shut Lualhati sank to the floor and sobbed.

Ugly. Gasping. Shoulder-shaking.

Her cries cracked through the tile like thunder.

"I tried so hard, Lola---" she wailed, her fists pounding weakly on the tiles. "I saved for weeks for that blouse---weeks! I wanted to look good just once, just for one night, and Jannah didn't even get to see---!"

Lola knelt beside her, arms wrapping her tight.

"I wanted to be normal," Lualhati whispered, broken. "Just for one night. Just one stupid night."

Lola rocked her gently, humming an old lullaby...one from before the wars, before the gates between realms weakened, before the sky burned.

She didn't speak of fate.

Didn't speak of duty.

Just held her.

Letting her cry.

Letting her be a girl.

At least for now.

*******

ABBADON

Unseen in the shadows, a figure watched.

Abaddon.

His wings, tattered yet mighty, stretched behind him like dark thunderclouds. His jaw clenched, fury simmering.

"Malachai," he hissed.

A ripple in space. A creature stepped forward, cloaked in void.

"Yes, my king?"

"Find the Kapre. Erase him. And remind all the Fallen," Abaddon growled, eyes fixed on the girl weeping in her grandmother's arms, "that the Ilustre are under my protection."

He turned away, the night howling behind him.

He was the Angel of Destruction. Feared. Resented. Cursed.

But not by her.

Lualhati's hatred had become his deepest wound.

*******

LUALHATI

Lualhati knew this was a dream as it was where she could speak to the voice of her guardian. Yet she feels the cool relief of the running water as her feet paddled through the shallow brook behind their ancestral home.

"Why do you only come to me in my dreams?" Lualhati asked aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. The air felt charged, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

"Because that is how you need me for now." the voice replied, smooth and comforting, echoing from somewhere just beyond her sight. Lualhati strained to catch a glimpse of him, the figure she had come to know intimately over the years. She could see his silhouette, but never the full picture.

Again, she reached for his perfect jawline and his lopsided grin revealed sharp canines that gleamed in the fading light. Then suddenly he pretended to bite at her fingertips. And as always, Lualhati let out a nervous yelp tugging her fingers back to her chest with her other hand before her fist landed on his chest in quick retaliation.

The voice chuckled, "That never gets old!"

Though she felt herself flushed, Lualhati savored the sound of his laughter as she sat on the edge of the brook behind her ancestral home, her feet dipping into the cool water, sending ripples dancing across the surface. It was a place of solace, a sanctuary where she often escaped the weight of expectations that came with being the firstborn of a senior babaylan in the Church of the Keeper of Secrets.

"Are you really here with me?" she pressed, her heart racing. She could see the shimmer of his dark hair, the hints of blue catching the light. The irises of his eyes were the deepest of greens, each radiating an intensity that seems to hold secrets.

When light hits those eyes, they can appear to glow, reflecting an otherworldly quality. The pupils, which can expand dramatically in low light, transform into slits in bright conditions, and when she asked him about it, her angel simply said it was to allow him to see in the darkness, even that of the Abyss. When he looked at her, his eyes held depths that seemed to pierce through the veil of her very soul. "I know I am only dreaming, but even here why can't I see all of you?"

"I am always here, Lualhati, you just have to listen." His massive hands held hers that seemed translucent to her touch.

"But why can't I see you clearly?" She let out a sigh, a mixture of frustration and yearning. "Sometimes I wish I could just know you. Know your name."

"Names are powerful," he replied, his voice low and mysterious. "What matters is our connection. You speak to me as you wish; that is enough."

Lualhati's brow furrowed. "You make it sound so simple. But I want to know more than just your voice. I want to see you." Her heart thudded at the thought, an irrational hope blooming inside her. "I want to meet you."

*******