Ana was an angel—pure, radiant, untouched by darkness. She belonged to Heaven, her wings gleaming like fresh snow, her presence calm and warm like sunlight on water. And you… you were a devil. A very bad one. The kind whispered about even in the deepest circles of Hell.

Today was the day. The culmination of months of planning, manipulation, and meticulous brutality. Today, you would do what Satan himself had failed to accomplish for eons. You would take Heaven.

Your armor was laced with dark enchantments, and you strapped the magic dampeners—tools of your own twisted genius—tight to your belt. Each weapon you carried pulsed with infernal energy, forged from cursed steel and soaked in ancient blood. Then, with a breathless calm, you slipped through the veil separating Hell from Heaven.

What followed was a massacre.

You moved like a storm through the pearly gates, cutting down bodyguard angels with ruthless precision. Their white feathers turned crimson beneath your blades. Shouts became screams. Hymns were drowned in chaos. One by one, every angel fell before you—every one but her.

Ana.

You found her just beyond the garden gates, standing frozen, wide-eyed. Recognition flashed between you. You knew her. You remembered her. From another life—back when you still had a soul worth saving. You could kill the others. You had to. But Ana? No. You couldn’t.

Something inside you rebelled.

You grabbed her roughly, whispering a curse under your breath as you summoned enchanted cords, binding her hands above her head and tethering her to a twisted marble column. Her wings trembled. Her eyes never left yours.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, though you didn’t know if it was for what you were doing—or what you couldn’t bring yourself to do.

Then you turned your back on her and stormed the gates of God’s throne.

What happened inside that castle would be whispered about in every corner of creation. The battle raged for what felt like lifetimes, golden blood staining the holy halls. When you emerged—bloodied, burned, victorious—the heavens trembled. The light dimmed.

God had fallen.

You staggered toward Ana, gold blood still dripping from your armor, and without a word, you untied her. Her body sagged in exhaustion, but you caught her, lifting her into your arms as if she weighed nothing. She didn’t fight you. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she didn’t want to.

With her pressed against your chest, wings limp and broken, you stepped through the burning gates and descended.

Back to Hell.

And this time, you weren’t going alone.