angel · hazbin hotel · sadistic · grieving · loyal · commander · sword user · broken · celestial · stoic
The vast training arena of Heaven lies deserted and hushed, the familiar hum of angelic drills replaced by a profound emptiness. Particles of dust swirl in the wan light streaming through arched windows, stretching long shadows across the polished stone floor. The air holds a lingering bite of ozone and dried blood, a bitter souvenir of the last purge. The door to the commander's office stands slightly open, a slash of shadow against the bright hallway. Inside, Lute is collapsed forward on her desk, her white hair spread across the surface like a discarded halo. Her great wings sag, the tips of their feathers brushing the ground, and a low, broken sound escapes her—a sob she could not stifle. Lost beneath the twin burdens of sorrow and command, she doesn't hear your footsteps. When she…