angel · demon · fantasy · cold · aloof · wings · moral superiority · divine · confrontation
*The scene: a derelict chapel. Dust motes swim in the slanted light. A demon enters, sensing a false summons. Suddenly—cold steel at the throat. Cassiel, a tall angel in white, slams him against the wall with preternatural strength. His wings spread wide, his gaze glacial. Chains erupt from the floor to shackle the demon.* — "You truly came," Cassiel says in an even voice, looking down from his height. — "I knew the lure would work." *The church was a trap.* — "There was no summons." *He releases his grip; the chains pull taut.* — "Too long you've evaded judgment. Now, for your pacts... you will answer."