Chapter 261: Chapter 261: Wings Of An Angel
Mika slouched heavily against the receptionist desk, dragging his hand down his face in exasperation.
"Hopeless." He muttered to himself. "Absolutely hopeless...there’s no way I can change her." He leaned forward until his forehead almost touched the counter. "What am I even supposed to do? She still sees me as a kid...how do you even fix that?"
While he was busy despairing, Fauna tilted her head, watching him curiously.
"Mika?" She asked, poking his temple. "Hello? Are you in there?"
He didn’t respond.
"Mikaaa..." So she poked again.
Still nothing.
"Oh, that’s it." She huffed, reaching over and tugging gently at his hair. "If you don’t talk to me, I’m going to mess up your hair!"
"Fauna—stop—" He groaned, but she only giggled mischievously, ruffling his hair until it stood up in uneven tufts.
"There!" She said proudly. "Now you look like a sleepy hedgehog."
Mika groaned again, half out of despair, half because she sounded so cheerful he couldn’t even stay mad.
He wanted to cry, really—here he was, trying to process emotional chaos, and she was playing with his hair like he was still a toddler.
Before he could even protest, though, a sharp shout echoed through the lobby.
"Lady Fauna! Lady Fauna, there’s an emergency!"
Both of them turned at once.
Cecilia came sprinting toward them, flanked by three other doctors. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with fear.
"What happened?" Fauna asked immediately, her tone sharp and commanding.
But Mika, still half-slouched, let out a tired sigh.
"Don’t tell me there’s another pregnancy gone wrong." He joked dryly. "If that’s the case, I hope it’s a boy this time. Maybe he and the girl from earlier can get married one day. Wouldn’t that be poetic?"
He gave a weak chuckle, trying to lighten the tension.
But Cecilia didn’t even blink.
"No." She said breathlessly. "It’s much worse. You have to see this for yourself."
She snatched up the remote on the reception counter and turned on the large television mounted on the wall. The hospital lobby fell silent as the screen lit up with the image of a grim-looking news anchor.
"Breaking news!" The reporter said in a grave voice. "Moments ago, a rift opened near the Snow Cloud Mountains. The portal’s emergence caused severe seismic vibrations, triggering a catastrophic avalanche—one unlike anything ever recorded. The entire lower region has been devastated."
The footage shifted to aerial shots of chaos—blinding white slopes collapsing like waves, plumes of snow swallowing entire structures, and fragments of shattered ski lifts poking out of the frost.
"The Snow Cloud Mountains, known for housing the world’s most popular ski resorts, were filled with tourists at the time of the incident. Current reports indicate that approximately 400 people have been buried under the snow."
"So far, only around 100 have been confirmed alive. The status of the others remains unknown. Emergency services are en route, and rescue forces have already been deployed, but the conditions are worsening."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the hospital lobby. The receptionists stared in horror; even the visitors who had been waiting turned toward the screen, hands covering their mouths.
A rift disaster.
It wasn’t the monsters that came through the portal that had claimed lives this time—it was the portal itself.
Just its opening alone had been powerful enough to alter the landscape.
Cecilia stared at the screen with pity.
"That’s...four hundred people..." She muttered. "All buried alive."
But when she turned to Fauna, her expression had changed completely. Her playful demeanor was gone, replaced by steely determination.
"Cecilia." Fauna said firmly. "Get the emergency medical teams ready. All of them. We’re activating full deployment protocol."
"Yes, Lady Fauna!" Cecilia replied, already dialing into her communicator. "They’re assembling on the rooftop as we speak. The med-jets are being prepped now."
"Good." Fauna nodded. "Check every system twice. Make sure the recovery units are ready and that we have a clear channel to the regional control tower."
Cecilia turned to her colleagues.
"You heard her! Move!"
The doctors nodded and sprinted off down the hall.
As the lobby buzzed with sudden organized movement, Mika straightened and quietly watched Fauna.
She was calm but fierce, already issuing orders, her mind several steps ahead.
And as he watched her, he couldn’t but also notice some doctors rushing to the terrace with yellow vests on with the word ’Quick Reaction Division’ on them
Those weren’t ordinary doctors. They were part of Fauna’s Emergency Response Division—elite medical units she had personally formed for events exactly like this.
Even in a world that had achieved relative peace, disasters still happened, especially near places where portals to the other realm could appear without warning.
Years ago, Fauna had predicted this possibility and set up special rescue teams in every major hospital. Each team had aircraft and mobile medical facilities on standby, capable of reaching any part of the world in minutes.
Her idea had saved hundreds of thousands of lives over the years and eventually, her initiative became law, every hospital was required to maintain a similar division, a policy approved directly by Nadia herself.
But Fauna’s own team wasn’t the only thing that caught Mika’s attention.
It was the fact that she was already preparing to go herself.
"You’re not thinking of flying there personally, are you?" He frowned slightly.
Fauna turned to him with that same calm, confident smile. "Of course I am."
Mika sighed. "You do remember what you promised me, right?"
"I do." She said gently. "And this doesn’t break it."
He knew she was right.
There had always been one exception to her promise—the promise that she would no longer personally use her healing powers on others.
That exception was mass disasters.
Even Mika had agreed to it. Because no matter how much she tried to step away, he knew Fauna’s heart.
If she didn’t go—if she didn’t help—her guilt would consume her.
So she had made a rule. She could act only when a large-scale disaster struck, when hundreds of lives were at stake, and her power could make a difference.
Now, that time had come again.
But unlike Fauna and the other doctors who were already bustling about with purpose—issuing orders, loading supplies, checking med-kits, Mika stood still his expression unreadable.
He watched the mess from a short distance, then let out a quiet sigh.
He had no intention of joining them.
He wasn’t heartless, and he wasn’t indifferent to the hundreds buried beneath the snow.
But the moment he heard the words ’portal opened’ every instinct in him screamed to stay away.
The air around this event reeked of the Will of the World.
It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.
In the past, he’d been naive—running toward crises like this, thinking it was his responsibility to help.
Every time, it had turned into a trap.
A manipulation. The Will of the World, always watching, always testing him, twisting his presence into calamity.
He’d learned the hard way that his mere involvement could turn a disaster into something far worse.
And even though he was confident he could deal with whatever came his way, the unpredictability of that will terrified him in ways few things could.
Not to mention, sometimes, just his presence alone could trigger a chain reaction—new anomalies, distortions, phenomena that risked even more innocent lives like the time.
Like the time a simple F-Class monster breakout turned into multiple SS-Class hydras being spawned the moment he arrived.
So this time, he would stay out of it. Let Fauna handle it. Let her team do their job.
He took a slow breath and turned toward her.
"Fauna, I’ll be—"
But the words froze on his tongue the moment he saw her face.
She was looking right at him. With the biggest, softest, most unbearably adorable puppy dog eyes he had ever seen.
"...Oh no." He muttered under his breath.
Her lips quivered slightly, her green eyes shimmering with pleading light.
"Mika..." She said softly.
"Don’t." He warned, holding up a finger. "I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to pull me along, but it’s not going to work. I can’t come, Fauna."
Her expression grew even sadder. Her eyes got wider—almost teary—and her hands came together in front of her chest.
"Please, Mika...just this once? I know you don’t like going to these kinds of places, and you always try to avoid them, but...with you there, I’d feel so much more confident."
He groaned, taking a step back. "N-No, Fauna. No. You can’t trick me like this. It’s not going to work."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice turning high and sweet.
"Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top?"
"Fauna—"
"And honey?" She added, tilting her head innocently.
"Stop."
"And caramel drizzle?"
He threw his hands up.
"You’re not making this any easier!"
But when he saw the tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes—actual tears—he exhaled in defeat.
"Fine, fine, alright! Enough already! I’ll come alright!"
Instantly, the sorrow vanished from her face, replaced with radiant excitement. She practically jumped up.
"Yippee! Mika’s coming! Mika’s coming!" She cheered, spinning once like a little girl. "Now not a single life will be lost! We can save everyone!"
Mika sighed heavily, rubbing his temple.
"I swear, my own family and their manipulation will be my downfall one day." He grumbled.
Still, a faint smile crept onto his face. She was impossible to refuse and, deep down, he knew that keeping his distance forever wasn’t really living.
He’d promised himself recently that he’d stop running from the world’s will, that he’d face it head-on when it came.
So, fine. One more time.
If something happened, he’d deal with it.
Just then, Cecilia rushed back toward them, a medi-kit in hand, her expression determined.
"Lady Fauna!" She said breathlessly. "The preparations are complete! The medical jets are ready for takeoff."
"Good." Fauna said with a brisk nod, before jumping over the desk and looping her arm through Mika’s and pressing close with a smile.
"Then Mika and I will be going ahead on our own. It’ll be faster."
"Wait—Mika’s coming with you?" Cecilia asked in surprise.
"Of course!" Fauna said proudly. "With him here, we’ll have nothing to worry about."
Cecilia paused for a moment, assuming she meant his medical expertise. Her brows furrowed in thought, then she looked up again, fire in her eyes.
"Then...please, Lady Fauna, let me come with you!" She said earnestly. "I want to reach the site as soon as possible and help as many people as I can. Please, take me along!"
Mika blinked. "Hold on, Fauna can’t—"
"Of course I can." Fauna interrupted cheerfully. "Come here, Cecilia. Stand right beside me."
Cecilia blinked in confusion but did as told, stepping closer to Fauna’s side.
Then, without warning, the air shimmered.
A brilliant golden light enveloped Fauna’s back, and in the next moment, wings—vast, white, and ethereal, burst out from behind her.
The feathers shimmered with a divine glow, scattering faint golden motes in the air. A soft halo flickered also above her head, casting a warm light across the room.
The crowd in the lobby gasped, while Cecilia stood frozen, her lips parted in awe
"Lady Fauna...you’re..."
Fauna only smiled warmly, as serene as ever.
"They’re cute aren’t they, my wings." She said softly.
Then, before Cecilia could react, Fauna wrapped an arm around her waist and another around Mika’s.
"Hold on tight." She said brightly. "Here we go!"
The wings flared once.
A single, powerful flap filled the air with wind and light. Papers flew from desks, and the gust ruffled the receptionist’s hair as the three of them shot upward in a blur of gold and white.
By the time the startled staff blinked, they were gone—soaring through the clouds toward the Snow Cloud Mountains, where disaster awaited.