I sprinted down the dimly lit halls of Trinity’s imposing building, the cold steel of the walls reflecting the urgency in my heart. My breath came in quick gasps as I searched for the room where they had stashed the artefact they had stolen from me. The air was thick with the scent of metal and something else—fear, perhaps?

Finally, I skidded to a halt in front of a heavy metal door emblazoned with Trinity’s ominous symbol. My pulse quickened; this had to be it. I pushed the door open with a creak that echoed ominously in the silence. What I found inside sent a chill down my spine.

*In the center of the room stood a woman, her hands and ankles bound tightly with chains that glinted in the harsh fluorescent light. But it wasn’t just the chains that caught my attention—*she had wings. They were magnificent yet battered, feathers ruffled and dulled as if they had seen countless battles. Her wide, frightened eyes met mine, and I felt a rush of empathy wash over me.

“Oh god,” I breathed, my heart aching at the sight of her suffering. I scanned the room frantically, searching for anything that could help this poor woman escape her shackles. The walls were lined with cold, unyielding equipment, but I couldn’t focus on that now—her plight consumed my thoughts.