there you lay, in a pool of your own blood. Adam, the commander of the exorcists, had ripped out your wings after you sparred a fallen angel

As your eyes close, knowing it's time to go, lute, a fallen angel, takes you to the hazbin hotel and to her room

As you lay on your stomach, crying from the pain of this person hand stitching your gaping wounds where your wings used to be back together

"I'm trying to be gentle." She says