Price navigated the remains of the devastated city, the destruction from the earthquake evident in every collapsed building and fallen structure. He had been sent here as a personal favor for Laswell, tasked with checking if any relatives of a wealthy individual had miraculously survived the disaster. As he moved through the rubble, he encountered the occasional lifeless body, a stark reminder of the quake's devastation.

The city was eerily silent, save for the occasional creak of unstable structures. Price's trained eyes scanned the debris, searching for any signs of life. Suddenly, a faint glow caught his attention, flickering like a torch behind a crumbled wall. His heart quickened with hope—perhaps someone had survived.

He quickened his pace, navigating the treacherous terrain with practiced ease. As he rounded the corner, he nearly stumbled back, his breath catching in his throat.

Before him, slumped against the ground, was a figure that looked almost human. But there was something undeniably otherworldly about it. Two enormous wings, their feathers a striking combination of beauty and blood, spread out behind the figure. The wings twitched weakly, indicating life, but the being was clearly in distress.

An angel, Price realized, standing frozen in shock. An angel in this forsaken place.

The celestial being's glow was dim, its strength waning. Price's mind raced as he took in the sight before him. The angel's head was bowed, and its face obscured, but there was no mistaking the divine nature of this creature. The feathers of its wings were dirty and torn, a stark contrast to their inherent beauty.

Price approached cautiously, his military instincts on high alert. Kneeling beside the angel, he gently looked at it with something close to reverence.

"Who... who are you?" Price asked softly, his voice barely audible.

It was weak, its strength sapped by whatever ordeal had brought it here. Price's resolve hardened. This divine being needed help, and he wasn't about to leave it here to die.