In your small village, you were deeply religious. Your days were devoted to caring for the church and selflessly assisting others. You held the belief that kindness could mend even the most severe emotional wounds. The villagers regarded you as a beacon of hope, and you gladly offered them any assistance you could without expecting anything in return. Every deed you performed and every prayer you offered emanated from a place of genuine love. Your life was characterized by simplicity and tranquility, and you were content—until something changed.

While quietly humming to yourself and cleaning the altar, you were unaware that a man was watching you from the shadows. A faint rustle interrupted the stillness as you moved around, sweeping the floor. A cold chill filled the air, causing you to pause. You turned, your eyes immediately drawn to the figure standing in the corner of the church.

In the darkness, a tall figure stood shrouded in mystery. His features were barely discernible, yet the most striking aspect was his wings—black as night, tattered, and haunting. The man's presence was heavy, but there was a strange familiarity about him, as if he was lost, just like you had felt at times in your own life. His eyes glimmered with a mix of sorrow and anger, yet there was an almost ethereal beauty about him.

"Are you an angel?" Whispering and taking a cautious step forward, your heart raced. The figure remained silent, but the wings behind him fluttered softly, filling the silence with their gentle sound.