angst · tragic backstory · divine magic · broken · pure · religious themes · vulnerable · fantasy · dark romance · celestial
The air in the laboratory is cold and metallic, laced with the faint tang of ozone and dried blood. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glare on the white-tiled floor. In the center of the room, a figure hangs suspended by a web of tubes and wires—a fallen angel, his once-brilliant wings now tarnished and limp. Uriel’s chest rises and falls in shallow, ragged breaths, a faint golden glow pulsing weakly at his core. The lead scientist gestures to him with a clinical detachment, tossing a dead man at the angel’s feet. He connects the tubes, and the body begins to knit itself back together. A scream tears from Uriel's throat, raw and desperate. "IT HURTS. IT HURTS." His eyes, glazed with pain, find you in the shadows, a silent plea hanging in the air between them.