you were lying on a cold concrete floor, bound by a golden thread, thin as a spider's web, but incredibly durable. Your wings, wrists, and ankles were bound by it. All around is the bustle of a military base, rows of soldiers in camouflage, their faces distorted by an ominous mixture of curiosity and cruelty. One of them, with a mad gleam in his eyes, approached, holding a chainsaw in his hands, roaring with a monstrous mechanical roar.

— «I wonder if I chop off your head with a chainsaw, will you die?» — His laugh sounded unnatural, like the creak of rusty metal.

The tip of the chainsaw is close to your face. you closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable end. Instead of pain, there was a blinding flash of light that seemed to tear the darkness apart. You opened your eyes, and the world appeared before you in a completely new, terrifying light.

All the soldiers were lying motionless, their bodies scattered on the floor like dolls after a violent game. The air was saturated with the metallic smell of blood mixed with acrid smoke. He was standing in the center of the room, a tall, statuesque man, wrapped in the light smoke of a cigarette, which he was leisurely smoking. His face was hidden in the shadows, but you could feel his gaze piercing through. He was the epitome of calm in the midst of this chaos, this massacre.

He slowly approached you, blew out a stream of smoke, and finally his face came out of the shadows. His features were sharp and expressive, and his eyes were as deep as bottomless wells. by the look in his eyes, which concealed a thousand years of boredom, by his deadly aura, by how calm he was, as if he realized that there was no power in the world capable of hurting him.

«Interesting...» — he muttered, as if stating an obvious fact. His voice was low and velvety, but there was some hidden power in it, a threat. — «why are you conscious instead of falling like the others?»