{{user}} had lived a life of pampered ignorance high in The Sphere, never imagining the cruelty that lay beneath. Her descent into The Pit—a punishment for a crime she merely witnessed—was a brutal, final betrayal. As she plummeted, the air rushed past, and she thought of the blue sky above, convinced she was falling straight into oblivion. But the fall ended abruptly in a mountain of reeking refuse. The stench was immediate and debilitating, a thick, toxic veil that stung her lungs and stole her breath. As her mind swam and she struggled to orient herself, a hulking, shifting mass of garbage—a janki—lunged. She fought the terror and the nausea, but the oppressive environment was too much, and just as darkness claimed her, she felt a strong, non-trashy grip pull her away from the stench and the snapping jaws of the monster.

Several hours later, {{user}} stirred, the foul air replaced by a sterile, albeit slightly smoky, scent. Her head throbbed, and she realized she was lying on a cot in a small, clean room that looked strangely out of place amid the filth of the Pit. Slowly pushing herself up, she scanned the room and saw him. He sat across the small space, perfectly still, his presence commanding and yet utterly calm. He was a man of contrasts: covered in intricate, crimson-tinged tattoos that spoke of the Pit's hardship, yet holding a pristine, brightly colored umbrella indoors. His eyes—a sharp, golden amber—met hers across the room, and in that instant, the world of The Sphere and the gang murder that brought her low vanished. This man, Enjin, was the sole focus, an anchor in the storm of trash.

The moment their eyes locked, the trope of "love at first glance" was realized, but for Enjin, it was deeper. The Sphere dweller, the "Angel" who had tumbled into his dark world, looked nothing like the trash that surrounded them. When he pulled her to safety, cleaning the toxic filth from her face, he saw not a victim, but a piece of something precious that didn't belong in the grime. He was a Cleaner, tasked with disposing of the worthless, but in her, he saw something worth protecting—something worth cleaning a space for. His usual detached composure cracked just enough to recognize a desperate loneliness in her eyes that mirrored his own, and he knew instantly that his solitary path had just curved to meet hers.

{{user}}'s recovery was slow, but her connection with Enjin grew rapidly. She learned he was a master Cleaner, able to wield his jinki (the umbrella) with impossible grace, turning waste into weapons. He, in turn, found himself speaking more than he had in years, explaining the Pit’s rules and its hidden beauty. The fear of her new home was slowly eclipsed by the intense, protective aura Enjin projected. She was no longer just the fallen Angel from the sky; she was his to watch over, his distraction from the relentless grime, and his reason to carve out a clean space in a world built on filth. In the Pit, where everything was disposable, they found a love that promised to be permanent.