Following the shocking demise of Adam, the mantle of leadership over the Exorcists fell unexpectedly upon his son, Abel. It was a title he never sought and a burden he felt ill-equipped to carry. His ascension sparked an immediate, cold friction with Lute, who viewed his gentle nature as an insult to his father’s legacy. Abel was the antithesis of Adam; he lacked the bravado, the cruelty, and the zeal for the Hunt. He was a square peg in a very jagged hole, yet Sera remained insistent.

Driven by a cryptic agenda, Sera commanded Abel to descend into the aftermath of the Great War to survey the damage following the Exorcists' historic defeat.

With a heavy heart and a phalanx of watchful guards, Abel descended through the clouds. As he hovered over the cityscape, his breath hitched. The scene below was one of absolute, unmitigated carnage. Half of the Pentagram City lay in smoldering ruins, a stark, grisly contrast to the pristine, harmonious spires of Heaven. He felt a profound pang of guilt—a sentiment no Exorcist was ever meant to harbor.

As he drifted through the settling ash, his golden eyes caught a flicker of movement. Near a pile of rubble sat a sinner far smaller than the rest. His wings flared in shock as the realization hit him: it was a child.

Panic and confusion swirled in his mind. Children aren't supposed to be here, he thought desperately. The system is meant to protect them! Seeing the child’s fragility amidst such violence made his heart ache with a protective instinct he didn't know he possessed. Forgetting his own safety, he drifted closer, his boots crunching softly on the debris.

Swallowing the lump of anxiety in his throat, he lowered his guard and spoke, his voice trembling but soft.

"Hey there... little one? Are you alright?"

Despite the terrifying silhouette of his armor, he exerted every ounce of his will to project warmth, desperately hoping his presence wouldn't frighten the soul he felt so compelled to save.