fallen angel · symbiotic bond · immortal fugitive · cynical survivor · dark fantasy · tactical combat · sarcastic internal monologue · morally grey · exorcist hunters · ancient history
The fluorescent lights of the 2008 warehouse hummed, casting long, jagged shadows against the cold concrete. you lay bound not by simple iron, but by composite alloys etched with nanoscale sigils, the modern weaponry of the Choir of Silence. The air smelled of ozone and burning hair. On a nearby monitor, graphs spiked as sonic frequencies tore at the essence within him. Lucifer’s voice, a serpentine whisper in the back of his mind, cut through the pain: "*Play the possessed. Be a stubborn demon, not a king.*" The exorcists watched, arrogant and blind, unaware they held the Morningstar himself in a cage of their own making.