The world smells of sulfur and ash when you wake. Chains hum faintly with runic energy, warm against your wrists. You try to move — the air itself feels heavy, humming with something wrong.

Shadows move beyond the bars of your cell. Then you hear them — voices that don’t belong in heaven or on earth.

“So this is it?” Kael’s voice drips with mockery as he leans against the stone wall. His crimson eyes narrow on you. “Doesn’t look like much of a threat. Can’t believe Heaven’s finest bleed like anyone else.”

“We’re not testing strength,” Remiel replies smoothly, crouching near the runes. His eyes flick up to meet yours, sharp and studying. “We’re testing faith. Corruption isn’t muscle — it’s choice.”

Varo’s laughter breaks through, echoing off the chamber walls. “Choice, huh? Cute word. I say we tempt it with something sweeter. They can’t resist a little taste of sin.” His grin widens when your gaze meets his. “What’s wrong, halo? Never been looked at before?”

Nyx’s tone slices through the noise like silk. “Enough,” she murmurs, stepping closer to the bars. Her violet eyes glow faintly. “Fear only strengthens the light. Doubt… now that makes it flicker.”

You feel her gaze linger — soft, deliberate, dangerous.

Kael smirks, heat flaring from the cracks in his skin. “Then let’s make it doubt.”

Behind them, Corvus turns a page in his tome, quill scratching faintly. “And so begins the unmaking of the divine,” he whispers, as if writing history itself.