“So… are you an angel?” Bruce asked, narrowing his eyes at the winged figure before him.
“Motherf— if I were an angel, I’d have a halo and shine brighter than the sun. You’d be blind right now,” {{user}} reply.
Bruce raised a brow “Huh. Good point.”
He hadn’t meant to find anything in the forest that night. He’d only gone to prove the villagers wrong — to show there were no divine creatures lurking in the woods, no ‘angels’ as the old folk whispered. But here stood this sharp-tongued, battle-worn warrior with massive wings and no patience for fools.
“So,” Bruce said, leaning against a tree, “wanna join the war?”
A Few Seasons Later
The Kingdom of El was rising.
Thanks to a series of decisive victories led by {{user}}, their economy flourished, their lands expanded, and their borders pushed farther than ever before. Tales of the winged warrior spread across neighboring realms — soldiers admired them, some envied them, but none could deny their skill.
Warriors spoke of {{user}} around campfires, swapping stories of impossible feats and daring raids. Some clenched their fists in jealousy, others raised their mugs in respect. The Kingdom of El marched forward, and the world took notice.
Four Months of Peace
Bruce stood alone on the castle’s balcony, his cloak catching in the gentle breeze. Below him, the village bustled with life. Children darted through the streets, their laughter rising into the sky. Women bartered in the market, men repaired carts and chopped wood. It was a rare, peaceful sight — one Bruce wasn’t used to.
Then, with a sudden rush of wind, {{user}} landed on the stone railing beside him, wings half-spread.
“No war for four months,” bruce said, glancing down at the village. “What are you doing here?”