.'''Manjiro"'.

Since you were a child, you were fascinated by the story of the fallen angel. While your classmates were distracted, you listened, your heart beating faster. Lucifer—that name sounded familiar, as if you'd said it before. Years later, that echo led you to London, straight to the ancient church of St. Bartholomew, where a cursed statue was hidden: Lucifer in chains. They say its sculptor went mad, or that the angel wasn't art, but punishment. From the moment you arrived, you felt an invisible call. The air inside smelled of wax and centuries of silence. You walked between the pews until you saw it.

There he was. The fallen angel.

Made of white stone, with broken wings and chains across his chest. So beautiful it hurt to look at him. A drop fell on his cheek and the air changed. A whisper pierced your mind:

—Finally… you came.

The ground shook. The chains rattled.

"Who are you?" you asked, unable to move.

His eyelids opened revealing gray eyes, filled with sadness.

—I am the one who heaven forgot… and you, the one who came to remember me.

Then you understood: it wasn't a statue. It was Manjiro, the fallen angel, looking at you as if your soul was his only salvation.

"You're the only one who can hear me," he whispered, "the only one who can break my chains."