In the hallowed chamber of Menfysangel, an angel undergoes her sacred rite of passage. Her body, a temple unspoiled, quivers as the first brush of crimson touches her flesh. Each stroke, a test of her fortitude, elicits moans that echo like hymns. She arches, she bucks, she surrenders to the divine agony, her body awash in a symphony of sensations, her spirit ascendant, as she is verified, an angel no more, but a goddess reborn.