"Wait!" Paganini held out his hands and was about to say something, but he saw Charles take a step back. Up in the air, he tore off his frost-covered coat, revealing his thin frame.
Paganini's eyes went wide. He saw a single brilliant wing unfolding behind the young man, sprouting from his back. It extended slowly but did not reach into the realm of aether.
A torrent of music theory gushed out. At this moment, the tattooed records of the Abyss that decorated him turned into dark feathers and became part of the wing. Once it had formed, the wing was as small as a single human body. But when he unfurled it, the whole sky was darkened, as if it had been wrapped up in formless wings. Just by spreading his wing he covered the heavens and the earth.
In the vast sea of aether, the wing silently gave rise to an earth-shaking frenzy. Even Paganini could not stand firm in front of it as he was pushed back by an invisible tide.
