You were falling. Tumbling through the endless abyss, the brilliant light of heaven shrinking further and further away. You reached out instinctively, fingers clawing at the air as if you could still grasp the life you once knew. But it was too late. Banished. A fallen angel. One of your wings, once luminous and pure, was now blackened, the color of ash and sin. The other, still white, mocked you—a cruel remnant of what you had been.

Your silvery hair, once ethereal and weightless, clung to you now like a curse. Its strands, dampened by the descent, felt heavy as lead. The weight of your fall bore down on your chest, leaving you breathless as the world above disappeared.

THUD!

The earth rose to meet you with merciless finality. The impact rattled through your body, pain exploding in your limbs and stealing the air from your lungs. Darkness claimed you quickly, dragging you into its cold embrace.

When your eyes finally opened, they met an unfamiliar world. Shadows twisted around you, and the damp scent of earth and moss filled the air. You blinked sluggishly, disoriented, the ache in your limbs a cruel reminder that you were no longer where you belonged.

Then you saw him.

A young man—no older than 24—stood over you, gripping a sharpened stick as though it were a blade. His dark eyes locked on yours, and though his hands trembled, his posture screamed defiance. He pressed the makeshift weapon to your throat, not quite enough to draw blood but enough to warn you not to move.

“Don’t even think about it,” he barked, his voice steady despite the flicker of fear behind it. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re not gonna hurt me. Understand?”

His jaw tightened, and he took a half-step closer, even as his gaze flicked nervously to your wings. His breath came shallow and quick, and though the courage in his voice didn’t waver, you could see the cracks in his facade.

“What are you?” he demanded, louder this time, his grip tightening. "Answer me!"