An angel descended from the sky.
At a glance, it looked like a stretched-out human figure.
It had a bipedal body structure, covered in colorful feathers.
The claws protruding from what could be called its hands or forelegs resembled those of a land predator more than a bird of prey.
Its protruding snout was somewhat like a bird’s beak, but not quite the same.
Its glossy, slit-pupiled eyes were more reptilian, and the membrane extending from its back ran all the way down to the tip of its tail.
This was the “One-Winged Angel.”
Its flight wasn’t exactly short enough to be a leap, nor long enough to be a glide.
With the powerful legs of a massive beast and that unique back-to-tail membrane structure, the One-Winged Angel bounded through the sky.
And its favorite prey was precisely the execution bugs and the sticky-fist plant’s fruit.
Shhh.
Even breathing felt risky.
Hans brought a finger to his lips, and Alje nodded silently.
But her eyes were strange — whether from fear, or something else entirely.
Hans was definitely afraid.
His experience as a seasoned hunter and his familiarity with monsters could only dull the edge of his fear — never erase it completely.
Because when faced with something like that.
Thud!
Even from a considerable distance, the impact made the ground shake like an earthquake.
Though the One-Winged Angel was on the smaller side for a large monster, that only meant its muscles and frame were tightly compacted — making it immensely powerful.
Powerful enough to fight creatures far larger than itself on equal terms.
As it landed on a mushroom-shaped rock, the stone cracked and split under its weight — though it didn’t quite break apart.
The insects and fruits beneath its feet were crushed instantly, releasing a rare, sweet fragrance almost unheard of in the labyrinth.
The One-Winged Angel stretched its long neck back, eyeing the shattered remains on the stone with curious interest.
“Hulu.”
Hans covered his ears.
When he turned to Alje, she had already done the same.
“Hululululu!”
Its cry.
Perhaps it could’ve been called a beautiful sound — if not for the overwhelming volume that made it sheer violence to hear.
A high-pitched ringing filled Hans’s ears, followed by the sensation of something snapping deep inside.
Soon, a warm, viscous liquid trickled down his ear.
He forced his body to stay upright, barely avoiding collapse.
This was unexpected.
Hans knew the One-Winged Angel’s cry could be a sonic weapon, but the creature was known to be a silent predator.
Like a biting dog that rarely barks — it only cried out ,when it encountered a rival predator of equal standing.
No.
The creature’s legs were soaked with the juices of crushed insects and fruit — both things it loved.
Normally, it would dive in and gorge without hesitation.
That had been Hans’s plan.
Stay hidden if possible — but even if discovered, there shouldn’t have been much danger.
The offering of its favorite food would keep it distracted.
After its meal, the thick, sticky fruit juice would leave plenty of feathers behind — a precious resource.
For the One-Winged Angel, it would be a minor shedding, but for humans, even a few of those feathers would be a treasure.
A strategy where everyone got something they wanted — a compromise.
“But why…”
“……”
The One-Winged Angel’s long, elegant neck twisted sharply, moving with an unnatural fluidity.
Its iridescent feathers were beautiful, but its cold, reptilian eyes were locked directly onto their hiding spot.
This shouldn’t be happening.
Realizing that concealment no longer mattered, Hans sprang up and shouted instinctively.
“Run!”
As a hunter, his decision was swift — but not fast enough.
How could two legs possibly outrun something that moved through the air?
Even if the One-Winged Angel’s movements weren’t exactly flight, the explosive acceleration from its powerful hind legs surpassed the speed of many true fliers.
Hans grabbed Alje’s hand and ran, but their frantic sprint was a slow crawl compared to their predator’s speed.
A shadow, wingless and swift, passed overhead.
“Then..”
Thud!
It landed in front of them, blocking their path.
Feathers, stiff and smooth, shimmered like a cascading rainbow above their heads.
The mission was already accomplished — the feathers they needed were right there.
Gretel would have enough to work her magic.
If they could make it back alive.
But the One-Winged Angel’s intent was clear.
It had no plans to let them go.
A more direct, unmistakable expression than any human language — the will of a monster.
Its long neck rose high, eyes fixed on them.
Its tail pulled taut behind it, and the membrane unfurled like wings, making its already imposing body seem even larger.
Even for a smaller large monster, that still meant it was massive — far too much for two humans to handle.
And in the eyes of such a beast, what did humans look like?
Monsters weren’t just strong — they were cunning.
A large group of humans might warrant caution — but just two?
Ah.
The realization hit Hans with absurd clarity — almost laughably obvious in hindsight.
Because Alje wasn’t human.
A monster like the One-Winged Angel wouldn’t bother with a couple of tiny, scurrying humans.
But all creatures were at their most vulnerable while feeding.
And for a monster with the ability to mimic other life forms… Hans knew from seeing Alje’s “mouth” that she wasn’t just a master of disguise.
She was a predator — one the One-Winged Angel saw as an equal.
This was his mistake.
The mistake of unconsciously thinking of Alje as “human.”
No matter how perfectly the girl pretended to be human, her true nature had never changed.
“Ah… Mister…?”
Hans quietly, one by one, peeled off Alje’s fingers, which were clutching his arm.
He said nothing.
Speaking aloud could needlessly draw the One-Winged Angel’s attention.
The instinct to survive always takes precedence over all other emotions.
“Huh?”
Alje couldn’t hold on to him.
Maybe because his actions were so completely unexpected.
Or perhaps… she should have expected it.
If Alje truly had the knowledge and experience she claimed when it came to the labyrinth, she should have seen this coming.
After all, in a world like this, it was more common to mock the one who got betrayed than blame the betrayer.
Or maybe she had expected it…but just couldn’t believe, not really, that it would happen.
But Alje’s denial wouldn’t change reality.
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
Hans ran with everything he had.
He tried to keep his footsteps quiet, but in the oppressive stillness of the labyrinth, the sound echoed far too loudly.
It was a perilous moment.
Under normal circumstances, running like this would only provoke the monster’s hunting instincts — a near-suicidal act.
But the One-Winged Angel only flicked its eyes toward Hans, making no other movement.
Because it had to suppress its instincts.
The threat nearby was powerful enough, dangerous enough, that even its predatory urges had to take a back seat.
In that sense, Hans was very much like a monster himself.
Even after falling into the labyrinth, his relentless survival instinct had helped him adapt to this harsh and poisonous world.
And just like so many times before.
He would survive this, too.
“……”
The sound of his footsteps faded into the distance.
Alje stood there, watching his retreating back in stunned silence.
Her face, crumbling with disbelief, was so transparent in its devastation that even a creature indifferent to human expression could easily recognize it.
It was so clear — so raw — that even the One-Winged Angel, which had been wary and hesitant until now, finally lost its patience.
“Lululululu!”
Its cry rang out like the melody of an instrument — beautiful in sound, but savage in force.
The shockwave lashed out in every direction, tearing through the air with brutal intensity.
Amid the cascade of iridescent feathers, the One-Winged Angel surged forward at last, its patience completely exhausted.
A creature not quite pitiable — for though it had been cast out of paradise, its beauty was only skin-deep.
Abandoned by the one she trusted, the girl stood alone in the face of that violent charge —frail and fragile, as if she might be torn apart at any moment.
But that, too, was just a facade.
“Mister…”
The girl’s empty, unfocused eyes seemed to blur — what once appeared to be two single pupils began splitting, dividing, and multiplying.
The amber glow Hans had once praised as the golden light of twilight fractured into countless pairs of compound eyes, each reflecting a sliver of that same dusk.
But then, how could they have known?
That the beautiful crimson hues of sunset were born from dust rising thick into the sky.
And from the collapse of that fragile girl .
The frozen clock hand began to tick forward once more.