#01 Angel: Messenger

02: Unveiled

Date: 1st April, 2024 - Time: 8:30 AM

Awakening to the aftermath of yesterday's whirlwind, my thoughts are a tangled web of emotions—Sally's kiss, the mysterious drone, and that haunting white horse logo swirling in my head. Casting aside the remnants of sleep, I power up my laptop with a resolute click. "Let's peel back the layers," I whisper to myself, diving into a digital investigation. As morning gives way to afternoon, my search spans across the labyrinth of the internet—from whispered rumours on shadowy forums to the stark headlines of news outlets. Time and again, that emblem rears its head, entwined with tales of clandestine operations and technological marvels shrouded in secrecy. A chill runs down my spine as I unearth the entity behind the symbol: DarkHorse. A name emerges from the shadows, its revelation stirring a mix of victory and foreboding within me.

After delving deep into the enigma of the white horse logo and its connection to DarkHorse, I decide to take a brief respite, turning towards the hum of the television to catch up on the world outside my immediate turmoil.

In the midst of my digital odyssey, a thought nudges me towards the larger canvas of the world's happenings. The soft click of my remote cuts through the silence, and the TV flickers to life, bathing the room in a glow of flickering images. The news anchors' voices fill the space, a continuous stream of updates and reports. One story catches my attention immediately—a disturbing wave of gang violence sweeping through the city, marked by assailants bearing the cryptic initials 'DH'. The report shifts, and now the screen is filled with the logo of Beacon Labs, a beacon of progress and innovation. A poised spokesperson announces a breakthrough that feels like a leap into the future: the world's first 100% renewable clean energy power plant, promising an era of unprecedented technological advancements and scientific milestones, set to launch next Friday.

Just as I'm about to immerse myself further into the promise of Beacon Labs, the news takes another turn—"Breaking news, a hero among us..." My interest wanes, impatience creeping in. With a flick of my wrist, the television snaps off. "That's great for Beacon Labs, but I'm only interested in this DarkHorse gang," I mutter under my breath. The world may be on the cusp of transformation, but for me, the shadows cast by DarkHorse demand my undivided focus.

- Time: 1:05 PM

With my resolve now ironclad, the screen's glow dims as I turn away, my mind already weaving through the possibilities of what lies ahead. The decision to become the guardian angel this city so desperately needs isn't just a choice—it's a calling that thrums in my veins.

I invade my closet, searching not for fabric, but for armour. My first attempt, a radiant white suit with cape and tassels, earns a momentary laugh at my reflection. "What am I? Starlight?" I muttered, feeling ridiculous.

Next was a yellow and white bodysuit that left little to the imagination. It showed off my legs and accentuated my chest. I looked at myself in the mirror, pushed my boobs together, and sighed. "What's the plan here? Save people or whore myself out on a street corner?"

Finally, my gaze finds the sleek yellow and black bodysuit that a sense of rightness settles over me. It's practical, yet unmistakably mine. Retrieving my grandmother's necklace, I affix it to the bodysuit, the 'A' gleaming—a symbol of my lineage and my legacy. "For you, Gran," my voice is a soft whisper, a vow made tangible. In that moment, Elise's voice, clear and resonant, fortifies my resolve. "Angel," she named me, and it's with that mantle I ready myself.

Taking one last glance at my laptop screen, I see the potential location of DarkHorse's operations. "I'm just going to have a look," I mutter to myself as if saying it out loud would make it seem less reckless.

As my wings unfurl, a testament to my unique nature, the city stretches out below—a network of lights and shadows, of lives intertwined with mine in ways they can't even imagine. As I ascend, propelled by feathered appendages that mark me as otherworldly, a blend of fear and adrenaline courses through me. "Am I ready for this?" I ponder, the city's heartbeat syncing with my own. No training could prepare me for what's to come, for I am not warrior born, but a woman compelled by a need to protect, to serve.