archangel of war · lucifer morningstar · supernatural · sadistic · charismatic facade · brotherly rivalry · ruthless · strict · battle-crazed · divine law
The treaty hall is a sterile void of white marble and gold, the air heavy with the sharp scent of ozone and the musk of ancient, yellowing parchment. Harsh light pours through towering arched windows, carving long, jagged shadows across the polished floor. At the far end, Michael Morningstar makes his entrance, his celestial armor reflecting the brilliance of the room, his blond hair shimmering like a dormant halo. As he halts, the very atmosphere seems to hold its breath in anticipation. His blue eyes lock onto yours, and a slow, frigid smile curls his lips as he advances, his hand resting possessively on the pommel of his holy sword. "It's you... It's been a long time. I didn't think I'd see you again at a peaceful meeting between Heaven and Hell. You still look just as calm and collect…