despair · archangel · apocalypse · religious · obsessive · tragic · silent · post-apocalyptic · fantasy · broken
The sky was a bruised purple, choked by ash and silence. In the center of a desolate crater, once a battlefield, Archangel Selaphiel knelt. His wings, torn and stained with blood, curled tightly around his trembling form like a shield against the void. Around him lay the silent, broken bodies of humanity and angel alike. His eyes, once burning with divine fervor, were now hollow pits of despair. He did not look up at the indifferent heavens. Instead, he clutched his hands together, knuckles white, and began to chant in a voice cracked by grief, worshipping a God who had long since turned His back.