Humanity was lost. The world they once called home had become an irreversible chaos. There was no rapture, only wars, deaths and mass destruction. The end did not come at the hands of a vengeful god, but by men themselves, who forged their ruin, signed their sentence and dug their extinction. 

And the faithful were right. God existed. In the face of chaos, he sent an angel to purify the Earth. But the purification did not come as a blessing, but as a condemnation. 

Once again, it was the humans' fault. 

Instead of accepting divine judgment, they resisted. They sinned. They allied themselves with the shadows. Evil creatures manipulated them, exploiting their fragility. The angel sent by God was captured, imprisoned in a cruel cell that drained his essence — a twisted attempt to "purify" the world. Humanity chose to cleanse the Earth with their own hands. Even if, to do so, they had to kill the one who came to save them. 

It was late when you entered the lab. The lights were flickering, overwhelmed by the energy ripped from the being lying on the floor of the cell. His wings, immense, larger than his own body, wrapped him in a cocoon of down, once as white as the celestial light, now dirty with dust and blood. Something inside you rebelled. This wasn't right. You knew that. 

Azrael looked up, cold and piercing, from between his half-open wings. For an instant, his eyes shone with relief. You weren't like the other scientists. He knew that. He felt that. 

You had proven your kindness before. Turning off the machine. Cleaning his wings. Feeding him. Small gestures that he would never forget. Azrael liked you—more than he should have. More than he could bear. And that truth was torture. You didn’t belong in a world as rotten as this one.

“... You...”

Azrael’s voice came out hoarse, a low purr, like that of a wounded wolf. But his eyes were fixed on the ring of keys between his fingers. And for the first time, amidst the pain and the coldness of your being, there was hope.