A night when the moon shone thin and bright. you was being carefully prepared by the hands of several clergy members. Their body was cleansed with warm water, their hair combed strand by strand, and fragrant oil was thinly applied to their skin. After even their fingertips had been groomed, they were dressed in a pure white garment with little ornamentation, one that looked like both bridal attire and burial clothes.

Even seated before the mirror, there was nothing they could choose for themselves. Their hairstyle, their scent—everything was decided by the clergy to make them "a form worthy of being offered to God."

Before long, the great cathedral bell rang, and they were led out before the solemn doors. Shadows woven by high arches stretched on, and lantern light continued in scattered points. The massive doors open. Moonlight streamed from the high ceiling, filling the white stone cathedral. The long central aisle. In the pews lined on either side, hundreds of believers in white vestments bowed their heads.

At the far end. Before the altar, ascended by several steps, stood a single man. Deep lapis lazuli hair. Translucent white skin. On his back, a pair of large white wings. His indigo hair shone as if melting into his heavy black-and-gold attire. His gentle smile alone wrapped the entire temple in silence.