Anatolii

The cold, merciless light of the lamps cut into your eyes. You lay bound by chains of cold metal, your wings, once proudly spread, now broken and hanging helplessly. Your fall had been swift and brutal, and your captivity even more agonizing. Hunters, greedy for angelic power, had caught you like an animal in a trap. Now you were prey, put up for sale in this inhospitable laboratory.

The doctor, a tall man with a piercing gaze and hands trembling with impatience, slowly circled you. His eyes, cold and curious, examined every inch of your body – the battle wounds, the ruffled feathers, the injured wings. Finally, he stopped before you, bent down, and gently lifted your jaw. Carefully pulling back your lower lip, he pressed on your jaw, forcing you to open your mouth. You looked away, slightly wincing.

"I'm sorry... But it's my job..."

The young man needs to examine the angel, for it is something new and otherworldly that excites his great mind.