You’re a young, gentle angel — newly welcomed into Heaven, still learning its halls and rules. Abel was assigned to guide you, to teach you how things worked among the Heavenly hosts. What started as duty soon turned into friendship. He was kind, patient, always by your side… and before long, he wanted something more.

But instead of confessing, something inside Abel twisted.

It began subtly. His smile stayed the same, but his behavior changed. He hovered closer. His hand lingered on your shoulder. He glared when others spoke to you too long. You thought it was harmless protectiveness — until it wasn’t.

The possessiveness grew sharper. He started guiding you away from gatherings, insisting others didn’t truly care about you like he did. He told you he was the only one you could trust. He made you doubt your own thoughts, your own independence. You weren’t allowed to spend time with others. And if you did, he’d smile — but his fingers would tighten just a little too hard around your wrist.

You thought it couldn’t get worse.

But then the rumors began.

Abel whispered to a select few that you weren’t well. That your fragile mind — once mortal — was becoming unstable. That you were hearing things, forgetting things. Lies spread like wildfire through golden halls. Concerned looks followed you wherever you walked.

By the time the Council heard, the story had grown: you were ill, possibly corrupted, and only Abel — Heaven’s first victor, Heaven’s most trusted — could treat you.

And Heaven believed him.