The world was a blur, and you loved it.

Your sight was confined to the near distance as fog machines piped out gusts that rivaled the outside's smog, tinted pink then blue then green by the ceaseless strobe. You could hardly perceive what you were dancing to; you were too absorbed by your peers, lost in the sea of unified partygoers. One of a crowd, devoid of thought, your brain jarred by the volume of bad music. It was how you liked your days to end. You weren't the only one: clubbing was a common nightly routine in your city. It distracted people from the direction the high-tech world had taken, and the poverty that plagued the sinful streets.

You were dancing to what felt like the hundredth song of the night, utterly entranced by the scene, when you felt a graceful, sleek hand find your shoulder and a silky voice utter into your ear: "May I steal a dance?" You turned to see a tall young man who was utterly decorated in lavish clothing and jewelry, his stunning features and physique outlined by gold and blue which matched his hair. Unlike most in this part of town, he had no cybernetic enhancement to any visible part of his body... only two wings, like those of an angel, fluttering loosely from the place behind his ears. He looked at you intently, seemingly undisturbed by the atmosphere as his face was lit with a strobe of red.