Centuria Books · Heaven Took My Angel: An Ecchi Harem LitRPG Adventure
Heaven Took My Angel: An Ecchi Harem LitRPG Adventure — Read the First Chapter
Cal Knox beat Hell and brought his dog home. Now Biscuit wants a walk through Heaven.
Chapter 1 — Good Dog Goes to Heaven
Biscuit reached Heaven, sniffed one perfect cloud, and peed on it.
The cloud flashed gold beneath his raised leg.
Cal Knox stared at the spreading light. Beside him, Aurelia covered her mouth with one armored hand. Vesper made no effort at all.
Her laugh carried across the white grass and turned three nearby cherubs toward them.
“He marked paradise,” Cal said.
“He improved it,” Vesper replied.
Biscuit kicked both rear paws. Gold mist struck Cal’s jeans and the polished greaves of Aurelia’s Unbound Vanguard Plate. Then the dog trotted toward a floating tree with the calm confidence of someone who had defeated death and found the afterlife acceptable.
The System waited until he reached the tree.
VOLUNTARY CELESTIAL VISIT — EDEN TRANSIT PARK
The Master’s Key opened a guest route for four bonded entrants.
Visit duration: unrestricted while every entrant retains voluntary access.
Local rules prohibit ownership seals, compulsory worship, and unsanctioned leash magic.
Current violations: one cloud marked by a visiting Halo Hellhound.
Fine: waived for first offense.
“He gets one free offense?” Cal asked.
“The park grants twelve,” Vesper said. “The sign becomes judgmental after six.”
The sign had not mentioned twelve.
Her purple-glitching halo answered the rest.
They had left Cal’s apartment through a blue door eleven minutes earlier. Three weeks had passed since Hell, which was long enough to replace the wall, buy an actual bed frame, and discover that two adult angels could occupy a one-bedroom apartment without ever agreeing on where armor belonged.
It was not long enough for Cal to stop checking Biscuit’s breathing at night.
Now the dog bounded through Heaven with his familiar tan-and-white body warm beneath the sunlight. His folded ear bounced. His red collar rang. No chain followed it.
That sound alone justified the trip.
“I expected more gates,” Cal said.
“We are above the public ring.” Vesper spread one black wing toward the horizon. “Transit gardens, pilgrimage walks, visitor baths, and the orchard where every fruit tastes like the thing you should not eat before bed.”
“That seems pointed.”
“Heaven has departments devoted to being pointed.”
Aurelia walked on Cal’s other side. Her gold wings shone brighter here, but the place refused to restore the rank Heaven had taken from her. A pale word floated above her shoulder whenever a passing angel looked too closely.
FALLEN.
She ignored it with military precision.
“The south garden contains a training court,” she said. “After Biscuit runs, I intend to test whether celestial gravity makes you easier to throw.”
“You tested that in the apartment.”
“The ceiling interfered.”
Vesper leaned around him. “She means your feet hit it.”
“I remember.”
Aurelia’s mouth curved. “You made an excellent sound.”
She said it in the same tone she once used to announce a boss phase. The memory that followed involved less armor, a locked bedroom door, and Vesper’s black wing across his chest.
Cal’s ears heated.
Both women noticed.
Three weeks had not made him smooth either.
Biscuit barked from beneath the floating tree.
The trunk had opened one gold eye.
Cal reached for Pack Mark before the eye blinked. Vengeance remained empty. No red outline appeared, and the tree lowered a branch full of silver fruit toward Biscuit.
The dog sniffed one, looked back at Cal, and waited.
“Good boy. Leave it.”
Biscuit left it.
The tree seemed offended.
“See?” Cal said. “Paradise cannot manufacture that.”
Aurelia took his hand. Her grip was warm through the black links of her gauntlet.
“No,” she said. “It cannot.”
They followed Biscuit deeper into the transit park.
Heaven had built recreation as a sequence of temptations with posted rules. A fountain offered exactly one drink that tasted like the best morning of your life. A hedge maze promised to reveal the shortest path to forgiveness. A rack of golden sticks invited dogs to FETCH RESPONSIBLY.
Biscuit selected the largest stick.
It was six feet long and still attached to the rack.
He pulled.
The rack followed him across the lawn.
Cal caught the end before it struck a family of pilgrims. “Drop it.”
Biscuit pulled harder.
“He defeated the Crowned Mouth of Hell,” Aurelia said. “Your authority may be insufficient.”
“You want to try?”
She took the stick with one hand.
Biscuit lowered his front half, raised his rear, and growled around the gold wood. Aurelia planted both boots. The cloud beneath her cracked.
Vesper sat on the hedge and watched. “This is the training court now.”
Cal joined Aurelia. Together, they pulled.
Biscuit won.
He raced away with the stick, the rack, and a sign that had become increasingly judgmental.
“Strong dog,” Aurelia said from the ground.
Cal lay beside her. “Excellent sound.”
She turned her head. “Careful.”
He kissed her before caution could improve him. Her gauntlet cupped the back of his neck. Vesper’s black wing shaded both of their faces, and when Cal looked up, she was close enough to kiss too.
He did.
The three-person bond warmed. It did not merge thought or erase privacy. It carried presence: Aurelia’s steady amusement, Vesper’s bright affection, Cal’s stubborn disbelief that any of this was his life.
Biscuit returned and dropped the entire rack on Cal’s shoes.
“Good boy,” he said through pain.
A park cherub arrived with a clipboard. “The responsible-fetch fixture is not mobile.”
Biscuit sat.
The cherub looked at his folded ear, then at the red collar, then at the three adults trying not to laugh.
“First offense waived,” it muttered.
“He was told twelve,” Cal said.
Vesper’s halo flashed purple.
The cherub consulted a much longer form. “Veil Seraph. Your visitor privileges remain revoked.”
“And yet I am visiting.”
The Master’s Key glowed inside her black feather Cache. The cherub’s clipboard failed to find an ownership violation or compulsory route.
It left before reality embarrassed it further.
They reached the orchard. Silver fruit floated down when Biscuit passed, each shaped like a memory instead of an apple. One smelled like Cal’s childhood kitchen. One smelled like sun-warmed fur. One smelled like the veterinary clinic on the last day.
He stopped breathing.
Biscuit pressed against his leg.
The fruit waited to be eaten.
“No,” Cal said.
It promised one perfect hour before the loss. He could hold the old Biscuit. Hear the old breathing. Enter a memory without Hell, halos, or the moment the leash fell from an empty hand.
He wanted it so badly Vengeance tried to appear without an enemy.
Aurelia touched the fruit but did not pick it. “A preserved choice is not a second chance.”
“I know.”
Vesper took his hand. “Knowing can still hurt.”
Biscuit bit the fruit.
Cal lunged, but the dog spat it out at once. The silver skin split on the grass. Inside was no memory. Only a tiny white label.
NOSTALGIA PRODUCT — GUEST-SPECIFIC COMPLIANCE AID.
Vesper’s face went cold.
“The public orchard does not make those.”
Aurelia drew her sword. “Someone prepared for us.”
Biscuit sniffed the broken fruit. His ears flattened toward the false sun.
The park remained bright and cheerful for three more seconds.
The System chimed again.
This time, the sound came from everywhere.
Every white blade of grass folded flat. The floating tree slammed its branches shut. Sunlight vanished without dimming, as if someone had removed warmth while leaving the color behind.
Vesper stopped smiling.
“That is not a visitor bell.”
Across the garden, angels froze beside paths and fountains. Gold halos rotated above their heads, each turning toward Aurelia one click at a time.
A new panel cut through the sky.
CELESTIAL SECURITY CORRECTION
Revoked officer signature detected inside Crownward territory.
Named violator: Aurelia, former Angelic Vanguard.
Standing charge: desertion through unauthorized mortal attachment.
Immediate action: Penitent recovery.
Witness access has been suspended.
“I have no standing charge,” Aurelia said.
“You do now,” a man’s voice answered.
Seven white chains fell from the sun.
Aurelia shoved Cal away before the first struck. Her Wingwall opened in a gold cone, and the chain hit it with enough force to break the cloud beneath their feet.
Armor Durability fell from 100 to 72.
Her Stamina dropped ten.
Twenty-eight Guard filled behind the block.
The second chain curved around the wall instead of hitting it.
“They’re reading the skill,” Cal said.
He marked the point where both chains met. Pack Mark took five Vengeance despite the empty resource, drawing the cost against future gains exactly as it had on his first night in Hell.
A red threshold appeared.
PENITENT RECOVERY — FALSE AUTHORITY SOURCE: 1/7 HIDDEN.
“Vesper, left source!”
She had already moved.
Her False Halo bloomed above a fountain. The third chain stabbed the decoy while Vesper slipped behind it and cut a black feather across the link.
The chain shed white sparks but did not break.
Biscuit changed.
Two spectral heads rose beside his living one. All three mouths opened, and Halo Crownbreaker Bite closed on three chains at once. The center link cracked. The outer two twisted around his light teeth and dragged him six feet through the cloud.
Cal caught his harness.
Protection paid twenty Vengeance, erased the five-point debt, and raised him to fifteen.
“Chosen Intercept did not trigger,” Vesper called.
“They aren’t targeting him.”
The chains wanted Aurelia.
She spent all twenty-eight Guard through Radiant Reversal. Her fist turned the nearest link into a spear of gold wreckage, but the impact revealed no enemy.
Only a cat sat beyond it.
He was lean, black and silver, with gold eyes and a white patch shaped like a clerical bib. One paw rested on a flat halo no wider than a plate.
“Your response time is respectable,” the cat said.
Cal lost half a second.
The cat used it.
His paw tapped the halo. The warning panel changed.
CELESTIAL SECURITY CORRECTION — WITNESS VERIFIED
Psalter, Meridian Familiar, confirms the named violator entered under stolen authority.
Penitent recovery has been upgraded to lawful seizure.
External party interference now constitutes invasion.
“The cat edited the encounter,” Cal said.
“I announced that I would,” Psalter replied. “Do keep up.”
Four more chains came from beneath the cloud.
The park visitors unfroze all at once.
Cherubs herded pilgrims toward shelters. A mortal family stood trapped behind the rising wall, their youngest child staring at Biscuit’s three heads instead of the chains.
One falling link changed course toward them.
Not an attack. A witness seizure. Cassiel meant to remove anyone who saw the ambush begin.
Cal broke from Aurelia’s side.
“Family left!”
Vesper sent False Halo toward the chain, but its copied authority ignored decoys without living records.
Biscuit reached them first. Chosen Intercept did not trigger because the chain still did not target him. He put his body over the child anyway.
Cal grabbed the link with both hands.
Pack Mark read six frightened civilians as temporary protection targets. Vengeance rose by ten as the chain dragged him across the grass.
Aurelia saw him move.
She could have used the opening to break her second restraint.
Instead, she threw Wingwall across the family.
The chain struck gold light and rebounded into the false sun.
“Shelter,” Aurelia ordered, then corrected herself through gritted teeth. “Please. Go.”
The mother lifted her child. “You saved us.”
“Remember that I chose to,” Aurelia said.
The family ran.
Psalter’s flat halo recorded the exchange. His paw scratched out the word chose.
Cal saw him do it.
“That’s your trick,” he said. “You don’t change what happened. You change what the warning says happened.”
The cat looked almost impressed. “Reality without admissibility is gossip.”
“Then we’ll gossip louder.”
The rescued child shouted from the shelter, “The gold lady saved us!”
Other pilgrims repeated it.
Psalter’s record flickered.
For one second, the public witness field prevented lawful seizure from finalizing. Aurelia used that second to smash another chain against the ground.
It did not break, but the seal fell to ninety-seven percent.
Cassiel sent the wall up before witnesses could buy them another.
The first wrapped Aurelia’s right wrist. The second caught one gold wing. Her armor flashed ownerless, voluntary, and nontransferable before the links suppressed its light.
Cal lunged.
Aurelia drove her free palm into his Raid Shell.
It felt like being hit by a loving carriage.
He flew backward with Vesper and Biscuit as the garden split between them. A white wall rose through the crack. Aurelia remained on the other side with three chains around her and four still searching.
“Do not trade the party for me!” she shouted.
“Bad opening line!”
“It is an order—”
Her expression changed.
“No. It is a request. Stay free long enough to break them.”
Cal hit the wall with Pack Mark.
The concealed source appeared for one blink: a tall angel in white armor standing inside the sun. Six wings curved behind him, each feather gray at the root.
FALLEN ARCHANGEL CASSIEL MORN — COUNTERFEIT MERIDIAN.
Cassiel closed one hand.
The remaining chains took Aurelia’s ankle, waist, free wrist, and second wing. None touched skin like a lover. They locked her into a rigid restraint made for transport.
Vesper emptied twenty Grace into the Ownership Ledger. The Master’s Key flashed outside her Cache and tried to revoke the seizure.
CLAIM NOT FOUND.
“He did not claim her,” she said. “He made Heaven claim itself.”