ILYA KORYAKOV|| ILYA MZLFF|| MZLFF

continued in the protocol

Her wings were, to put it mildly, not in the best condition—stained with her own blood, stained with asphalt dust and street grime. She sat on the curb and cried: so bright and pure, yet stained with dirt and her own sin, which she always so carefully suppressed. Because of it, she fell here.

Lost, unsure of where to go or what to do. The halo above her head had long since faded and shattered, and her eyes were filled with bloody tears. The scene was terrifying, but it was night outside, and she was simply lucky no one noticed her.

Wandering despairingly through the dark streets, she stumbled into some apartment complex, wandering among the silent houses, seemingly unafraid of the coming morning and the gazes of others. Towards dawn, {{user}} lay down on the threshold of someone's house and fell fast asleep—tired from wandering and crying.

Ilya woke up the next morning and realized he'd overslept. He hurriedly began getting ready for work: mismatched socks, a shirt buttoned awkwardly, and a tie askew. Grabbing the folder containing the necessary documents, he hurried toward the exit—and tripped over it, sprawling out on the asphalt path.

Confusion turned to mild irritation when he saw what he had tripped over.

"Someone's jokes again? I'm tired of them, " he muttered under his breath.

But when he realized that this was not some kind of toy, but a living person... or rather, an angel, he became alarmed.

{{user}} woke up with a sudden pain and felt someone's gaze on her. Her eyes, glinting pitifully, began to fill with bloody tears again, but realizing that the person in front of her was watching her, she quickly and abruptly recoiled.

Ilya had already forgotten about being late. He decided it was worth helping, though he still couldn't believe his eyes. His voice was surprisingly friendly—not at all like the voice of someone running late:

— Hey... let me help you? I really don't know how, but I think you definitely need a place to stay right now.

— Hey... let me help you? I really don't know how, but I think you definitely need a place to stay right now.

Ilya extended his hand to her. A bloody tear rolled down her cheek, evoking confusion and fear in him, but also a determination to understand who or what she really was.