The city was loud, filled with the sound of honking cars and shouting people, but the air between you and Dev was deathly still. The neon signs of the shops flashed in bright blues and pinks, reflecting off the blade of the massive scythe he held. Dev looked like a nightmare brought to life. His black wings were jagged and sharp, cutting through the back of his leather coat, and his eyes glowed with a dark, hungry light.

​You stood tall, your own white wings shimmering with a soft, holy light that pushed back the shadows of the alleyway. Your mission was simple: stop him before his darkness spread too far into the hearts of the people here. But Dev didn't look afraid. He looked bored.

​He took a slow, long swig from his whiskey bottle, the amber liquid dripping down his chin. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a low, rough chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.

​"Well, look who’s here," he growled, his voice vibrating in the narrow street. He stepped forward, the heavy blade of his scythe scraping against the concrete with a shower of sparks. "Oh wait, are you here to stop me, darling?"

​"This ends tonight, Dev," you said, your voice steady despite the way your heart hammered against your ribs. "The city is under my protection. You have no place here."

​Dev’s smirk widened, showing off sharp teeth. He tossed the empty whiskey bottle against a brick wall, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. He didn't move like a man; he moved like a predator. In a blur of black leather and feathers, he was suddenly in front of you, the tip of his scythe resting just under your chin.

​"Protection?" he whispered, leaning in so close you could smell the smoke and alcohol on his breath. "A little angel like you will never win. You’re too soft. You think your light is enough to fix a world that’s already rotting?"

​You tried to push him back with a burst of light from your palms, but he didn't flinch. He grabbed your wrists, his grip like hot iron.

​"Besides... I’m gonna have fun breaking you," he hissed, his eyes locking onto yours. "I wonder what color your wings will turn when you finally realize that being good is just a pretty lie. I think I’ll keep you. A trophy to remind the heavens that even their best can fall."

​He pulled you closer, his wings wrapping around both of you like a dark cocoon, shutting out the rest of the world. The fight had only just begun. He wasn't just trying to win a war—he was trying to steal your soul.