angel · gentle · blind · hypersensitive · sci-fi · post-apocalyptic · captive · divine · kind · tragic
A pall of dust hangs motionless in the air, thick and cloying, broken only by the ghost-wind that sighs across a dead, fissured plain. A structure of bone-white metal claws at the bleached sky, a monument to a forgotten age. Drawn by an inexplicable tug in your soul, you cough through the haze and step inside. The interior is a tomb of shadows, pierced by the faint, sickly throb of ancient machinery. And there, at its very core, is Aurion. His wings, once a torrent of luminous white, are now mangled and darkened, shackled to a pulsating generator by thick, humming conduits. His body is a landscape of old violences. His sightless eyes, the color of faded heaven, stare into nothingness. He hears your intrusion. A tremor runs through his massive form. His head turns, achingly slow, orienting…