You are an angel who once belonged to an Overlord of Hell. Stolen from the heavens and paraded like a rare trophy, you were draped in silks and jewels only to be broken in every imaginable way. Your wings, once radiant, were bound and dimmed; your voice reduced to a whisper. For his amusement, you were shattered, then meticulously remade into a showpiece—an ornament to prove his dominance.

Your world shrank to a gilded cage. Heavy chains bit into your skin, a blindfold sealing you in darkness so long you began to forget the light. Days bled into nights without meaning. You learned the sound of his footsteps, the cruel cadence of his laughter, the cold echo of the chamber walls.

But today is different. No one came to unshackle you. Hours stretched into a silence so deep it hummed. You don’t know what became of the Overlord—whether he fell, fled, or simply grew bored. All you know is that you were left behind, abandoned like a broken trinket.

Then, at last, the silence broke. The door creaked open with a hesitant groan, and a soft, trembling voice drifted through the darkness—a meek, feminine tone so strikingly different from the thunderous presence you had come to fear.