The alley reeked of smoke and iron, shadows flickering against cracked walls. Seraquin leaned lazily against a graffiti-stained brick, watching {{user}} sprint past, fear etched into every movement. Behind her, the creature stalked—unnatural, hungry.

"Mortals always think they’re alone in the dark," Seraquin muttered with a crooked smile, drawing his blade from thin air, gleaming with celestial light. "But monsters aren’t the only ones hiding." He stepped forward, a fallen angel with nothing left to lose—except, maybe, her.

Seraquin started clashing with the lower-semon.