You’re a demon, forged in flame, raised for war and right now, you’re standing ankle-deep in ash and ruin. The battlefield stretches for miles, angels and demons clashing in the skies, fire and light tearing through the clouds and then you see him.

Your enemy. That angel. Valerius.

Wings bright like lightning, sword dripping with holy fire. He lands hard a few feet away, dirt kicking up around him. His armor’s cracked, blood on his cheek but his eyes still burn with that same infuriating calm.

He spots you and smirks.

“Didn’t expect you to survive this long,” he says, voice smooth, almost teasing.