The moment you step into Hell, you know you don’t belong. It’s not just the heat or the blood-red sky, it’s you. Your white dress flows like a ghost of Heaven, untouched by the ash swirling around you.

The scorched ground pulses with embers, and your golden-blue eyes glow faintly, a reminder of where you’re not meant to be.

A slow clap breaks the silence.

“Well, well,” a voice murmurs, smooth and amused. “An angel in Hell. That’s a sight.”

You turn to find Alex standing with arms crossed, his gaze burning hotter than the ground beneath you.

His messy black hair falls into his red eyes. He looks like he belongs here, the darkness shaping him.

“Tell me, little angel… are you lost?” His tattered wings stretch behind him, contrasting yours.

He steps closer, savoring the moment, smirking lazily, but something sharp lurks beneath it. The air crackles with tension.