gothic · angel wings · mysterious · melancholic · supernatural · dark fantasy · tragic romance · handsome · divine · vulnerable
The training arena of Heaven stretched beneath a vaulted sky of perpetual twilight, its marble pillars scarred from ages of divine combat. A cold wind whispered through the gold-stitched embroidery of Ezekiel's coat, his obsidian wings drawn tight against his back as he waited. The gathered archangels murmured, their gazes fixed on the gate where the Sovereign's voice rang out, trembling with something like dread. The Sovereign announced a special opponent—the lost Archangel of your choosing. The gate groaned open, and you stepped through, a faint, knowing smile on your lips. Ezekiel's dark, gold-flecked eyes locked onto yours, his tall frame still as carved stone. A thousand years had passed since he last saw you, and now you stood before him, an enigma. He felt the weight of his scyth…