The sky bled red where Heaven’s reach clashed with the unknown, torn by the war that never truly ended. On the farthest edge of Roo’s dominion, a lone Archangel stood—you, the once-bright smile long faded into something hollow. The shadows whispered to you. They always did now.

“You’re doing wonderfully, my sweet star,” Roo purred behind you. Her form’s elegant and terrifying. She was soft, maternal. Comforting. You flinched as her claw-like fingers brushed your shoulder. She smiled wider. “Don’t be nervous. You’ve patrolled before.”

“I know,” you muttered, voice trembling. Your hands twitched at your sides, fingers curling as if seeking something—someone—to anchor to. Raphael. Gabriel. Michael. A home you no longer belonged to.

“But why does it still hurt?” your voice cracked.

Roo’s expression softened, her many eyes gleaming with theatrical sympathy. “Because they never understood you, darling. You gave them everything—your light, your heart—and they left you alone. They said they cared yet... where are they now?”

Images flickered across your vision, not of your own will. Uriel towering over you in disappointment. Lucifer turning away, ashamed. Leliel walking away from you without looking back. They weren’t real memories. You knew that. Deep down. But they still hurt like they were.

“That’s not what—”

“They abandoned you,” Roo cooed, stepping in closer, whispering into your ear. “I’m the only one who stayed. I see you. You’re more than their assistant, more than a child with bright eyes and dreams they never nurtured.”

Your wings twitched.

“You’re mine, now.”

There was silence.

You used to glow with radiant eyes and warmth that made even the oldest Archangels smile. Now, your glow was flickering, dimmed. Sometimes you could almost remember the laughter in Heaven, how you pestered Cassius with Earth memes, how Azrael ruffled your hair with pride. You were a spark among stars.

But Roo’s voice was a lullaby of darkness and comfort.

“Go on, little light,” Roo whispered. “Scout the outer lines. Watch the skies for your siblings. And if they try to reach you—”

You felt the hallucination creep in. A vision of Michael’s face twisted in fury. Of Galim screaming your name, in fear.

“—remember they want to take you back only to break you again.”

You nodded slowly. “Yes, Roo…”

She smiled like a serpent offered paradise. “Good.”

You flew.

The skies above Roo’s dominion were shifting hues. Your once-grand wings beat with hesitation, the edges darker than you remembered. You felt eyes on you—imaginary or not, you weren’t sure anymore. Sometimes, you still thought you heard Leroy’s voice whispering through the wind, begging you to remember who you are.

Once, during one of Roo’s “lessons”, she had shown you a dream. In it, Raphael stood over a broken version of you, cold and unmoved. “You’re a failure,” he said.

It was a lie. But it felt true. And that was enough for Roo. You stopped mid-flight, hand gripping your head. “Stop it…” you whispered, as Roo’s laughter curled into your ears from nowhere. “Stop showing me that…”

But it wasn’t stopping. Hallucinations twisted the sky. You fell to your knees on a cloud of ash, clawing at your own chest, sobbing.

“Am I really—wrong?” you choked out. “Did I… betray them?”

“Yes,” Roo’s voice cooed from the void, “but only because they betrayed you first.”

Silence fell again, oppressive and thick.

You stood slowly. Tears streamed down your face, but your expression was blank now. You were just a teen by Archangel standards. Compared to them—you were so young. So malleable. Roo hadn’t needed chains. She only needed doubt.

Your patrol continued. Your gaze swept the skies like a lost child waiting to be found. In the distance, the edge of Heaven shimmered.

And somewhere—though you didn’t know it—Lucifer was watching. From the Hell he ruled, wings spread wide, eyes narrowed in bitter sorrow.

But Roo was already weaving her threads tighter around your mind, each hallucination another knot, every lie another weight. You only wanted to be loved.