Although it was twilight, the heavens and earth radiated an unparalleled brightness, with countless stars flowing along the contours of the sky, sacred light tracing the horizon as luminescence poured down like a celestial blanket.
At the end of those infinite stairs, behind the youth with grey hair and aquamarine eyes, the vast gates of Heaven slowly opened.
The choir's crystal-clear singing echoed between heaven and earth, the harmony blooming in every corner of creation, sacred hymns reverberating, celebrating the arrival of the angels with dance and song.
"Shariputra, all phenomena bear the mark of Emptiness; they are neither produced nor destroyed, neither defiled nor immaculate, neither increasing nor decreasing."
Wings were born from the place where the light was strongest, precisely at the moment twilight gave way to night, twelve wings spread out, half bathed in twilight and the other half cloaked in darkness.
