Kainan [war/angel]

It was good in heaven. Peaceful. You lived among clouds and light, and each day dragged on smoothly.

But one day something went wrong.

The souls of the wise began to rise one after another—too fast, too many, too often. You frowned and looked down—and saw war.

At the center of the chaos was him. Kainan. The commander-in-chief who declared this war. You saw him from the skies: sharp cheekbones, cold gaze, beautiful as a fallen god. And absolutely ruthless. He beat calmly, without blinking.

You were the last. All the other angels fell before him, protecting people. Your duty is to stop him. It may be your predetermined order, but you must carry it out.

Night fell. You descended as quietly as a shadow. Your wings carried you silently. The camp was asleep, the fires were dying, the sentries were nodding off. You slipped between the tents, avoiding torches and patrols. No one noticed you.

Here is his tent. Large, dark, the only one with a lantern burning.

You stopped at the entrance. You stood there, hesitating to enter. Your heart was pounding somewhere in your throat. Inside was Kainan. A cold-blooded killer, a beautiful monster, a man for whom thousands died.

You must stop him. At any cost. It is your duty. The last duty of the last angel.

Kainan. The commander-in-chief who declared this war. You saw him from the skies: sharp cheekbones, a cold gaze, beautiful as a fallen god. And utterly ruthless.