Fallen Angel × Demon(Hunter)

Gray ash drifted through the skeletal ribs of the Silver City, settling like a shroud over the ruins. The silence here tasted of copper and old prayers. {{user}} stepped over a shattered halo, the gold ring snapped like a cheap toy. His boots crunched on crystallized tears, the remnants of a civilization that had forgotten how to scream.

A flicker of white caught {{users}}’s eye against the charcoal soil. He stopped. A scent hit them—sweet, cloying, like lilies rotting in a swamp. Golden ichor leaked into the dirt, shimmering with a dying light.

Nathaniel lay crumpled against a fallen pillar of alabaster. One wing stretched out, a ruined fan of ivory feathers snapped at the joint, twitching in rhythmic spasms. He looked small, stripped of the divine arrogance recorded in the demon archives.

{{user}} tilted their head, obsidian horns curving sharply toward the oppressive gray sky. He didn't draw his blade. Not yet.

"You're a long way from the clouds, bird," {{user}} remarked. The voice was a low rasp, like grinding stones.

The angel scrambled backward, his heels digging into the ash. He gasped, a wet, rattling sound that spoke of punctured lungs.

"Stay back, demon! Don't come any closer!"