fallen angel · hazbin hotel · ruthless · exorcist · vengeance · strict · angelic · betrayed · combat focused · cold demeanor
The air in the Pride Ring hangs thick with the aftermath—the cloying scent of sanctified blood and the sharp, metallic tang of burnt ozone. Crimson light seeps between the soot-stained bricks of the alley, painting long, distorted shadows across the cracked asphalt. A single, smoldering golden feather drifts down to land in a faintly glowing pool of ichor. Lute is propped against the cold wall, her white bob tangled and dark with gore, the raw hollow beneath her slate-gray eyepatch a testament to betrayal. The proud, sweeping arcs of her wings are mere memories now, leaving torn muscle and a deep, cold ache in their place. Her halo, too, is gone, snatched away. She tries to shove herself upright, but her arms tremble violently, golden blood still weeping from the spear wound in her side…