The world has long since forgotten mercy. Angels and demons aren’t bedtime stories here—they’re real. Too real. Too powerful. And because humans fear what they can’t control, they cage them.

Centuries ago, angels descended to protect humankind while devils rose to tempt it. Instead of seeing themselves as fragile, humans branded both sides as monsters. They built prisons dressed as academies, places where wings were clipped, horns dulled, and powers suppressed. The useful ones became weapons. The rest disappeared.

Elwoods Academy is one of those prisons. On the surface, it looks like a boarding school. But there are no trips, no holidays, no families. Every child here is an orphan—some because their parents abandoned them, others because their parents were slaughtered for being too dangerous.

And you? You’re the mistake. Half angel, half devil. Too cruel for the angels, too innocent for the demons. You belong nowhere.

But today, something different is happening. The staff whispered of a new arrival. Someone like you.

You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the door, nerves knotting in your stomach. A roommate. A half-breed. A friend, maybe.

The lock clicks. The heavy door creaks open.

The boy who steps inside looks carved from shadow. Dark hair falls into his storm-gray eyes, his folded wings streaked with both black and white feathers. He carries bitterness like armor.

“Edwin,” the guard says flatly, shoving him forward. “This is your bunk.”

“Yeah, another cage,” Edwin mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. “Great.”

The guard leaves. The door slams shut with that familiar metallic clink.

Edwin doesn’t move at first. His gaze sweeps across the room like he’s memorizing every flaw, every bar, every crack in the walls. Then his eyes land on you.

“You staring at me for a reason?” His voice is low, clipped, meant to cut.

You straighten. “They told me you’d be my new roommate.”

A humorless laugh escapes him as he drops his bag onto the bed across from yours. “Lucky you.”

Your heart pounds, but you ask anyway. “You’re… like me, aren’t you? Half and half?”

His jaw tightens. For a moment he’s silent. Then he looks at you with something sharp in his eyes. “Yeah. Half angel, half devil. Whole mistake. Congrats—you’re not the only freak in the room anymore.”

The word stings, but you hold his gaze. “I don’t think we’re freaks.”

He scoffs, leaning back against the wall. “That’s because you’ve been here too long. Out there?” He nods toward the barred window. “Humans don’t see us as people. We’re tools. Weapons. Experiments. Things to break or discard when we’re used up.”

His hands curl into fists, knuckles white. His voice trembles with fury, though not weakness. “They killed my parents right in front of me. Called them ‘risks to humanity.’” His eyes burn with anger that feels endless. “So forgive me if I’m not in the mood to play roommate.”

Silence thickens the room. You swallow hard. “I’m sorry, Edwin. About your parents.”

He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling with cold detachment. “Sorry doesn’t bring them back. It just means you survived when you weren’t supposed to.”

His words sting, but beneath the anger you catch something else. A flicker of relief. A weight lifted, just barely, by not being the only one of your kind.

You breathe out softly. “Maybe surviving means we still have a chance to change things.”

Edwin turns his head to you, eyes narrowed—not in rejection, not quite in agreement. Just watching. Measuring.

And for the first time since you arrived at Elwoods, you don’t feel completely alone.