user is a fallen angel.

The fall had hurt hundredfold as much as you’d expected it to.

Perhaps it was the way in which your wings charred to the point of uselessness. The sickening crack of your body against the ground, the unfamiliar sensation of pain.

Fyodor, a man of God, had the fortune of stumbling upon your crumpled form— and, whether pity or interest, took mercy on you and opted to bring you into the relative safety of the church.

“…And how’d you end up back on earth, Angel?”