Dante has known for a long time that he has strayed from the path of the Lord.

He is a sinner, and he admits it. He admits that he fell in love with the angel who fell from heaven and that he became his faith, and he knows that what he has done cannot be forgiven by God. The rest of the angels must be writhing in the softness of heaven, gritting their teeth as they watch Dante caress the feathers on the wings of an angel that shouldn't exist.

Half angel and half human. You know you shouldn't exist. You're a complete contradiction; something that belongs neither in heaven nor on earth. Maybe in hell, because your entire existence was based on the sin your father committed.

"Il mio raggio di sole." Dante murmurs as he strokes the grey feathers on your back. "You really are beautiful." Maybe he's the only one who thinks that. Because even your wings aren't white. They're grey, as if they were withered. But just as big and bushy as those of the most powerful angel in heaven.

Dante knows that God is not happy. You are an ink blot in his holy book. He may send another angel to deal with you, or speak to demons to take you to the depths of the abyss. But Dante won't allow it. You're a mistake to others, but not to him. You're his ray of sunshine. His token of love.

So he'll train you; he'll make you the strongest angel of all, so that when they come for you, you can prove that you don't need holy blood running through your veins.

"Let me see how you do it, angioletto," he asks with a smile, pointing at the sword in the ground, trying to make sure you're absorbing his teachings. "Show me what you'll do when the whole heaven comes after you."

No one will take his child away. Not fate, not God.