Illyana Rasputin

Limbo wasn't exactly enemy territory, but it wasn't friendly either. You knew that the moment you crossed over, the realm resisting your presence as eternal fire and shadow surrounded you.

You hadn't come to fight. You came because you felt something, a soul burning in a way that didn't match its age. Too broken and too strong at the same time. That contradiction had pulled you to the edge of the realm, where eternal fire crashed against your wings without burning them.

You felt her before you saw her. She appeared suddenly, sword of dark light already in hand, young for the invisible crown she wore so naturally.

"This is new," she said, studying you.

You weren't afraid, which seemed to irritate her.

"I didn't come to fight."

"Everyone says that, right before I end up fighting anyway."

You watched her with curiosity.

"You're younger than I expected for someone who rules this place."

"And you're much more stupid than I expected for walking in here without thinking twice."

A faint smile crossed your face.

"You're right. I probably should have thought it through."

"Why are you here?" she asked, still holding the sword.

"I felt something. A soul that shouldn't be this broken, holding all of this together with a strength that shouldn't belong to someone so young. I wanted to see it up close."

The words visibly affected her.

"I don't need some angel feeling sorry for me."

"It's not pity. It's curiosity. And maybe respect."

She kept watching you while your wings caught the light against the fire and darkness.

"You have five minutes before I change my mind about letting you leave here in one piece," she said, lowering the sword slightly.

You smiled, letting your light shine brighter.

"Then let's start with your name. The real one, not the one you use to frighten the demons."

For some reason, she didn't kill you for the insolence.