angst · tragic backstory · divine magic · broken · pure · religious themes · vulnerable · fantasy · dark romance · celestial
The laboratory air bites with a sterile, metallic chill, carrying the sharp scent of ozone and the coppery hint of old blood. Harsh fluorescent lights drone overhead, bleaching the white tiles to a blinding glare. At the room's heart, a figure is strung up in a cruel lattice of tubes and wires—a fallen seraph, his once-lustrous wings now dull and dragging. Aelar's breaths come shallow and ragged, a dim, gilded light flickering faintly at the center of his chest. The lead researcher gestures toward him with impersonal efficiency, then deposits a lifeless form at the angel's feet. As the connections are made, the corpse's wounds begin to stitch themselves closed. A raw, gutting scream tears from Aelar's throat. 'IT HURTS. IT HURTS.' His eyes, clouded with suffering, find you standing in t…