Raymond

The war ended in ash and silence. The last angelic forces of resistance fell that morning—charred wings scattered across marble floors, halos shattered like glass. The once-sacred Tower of Empty Stars now stood blackened and broken, its silvery stone exhaling smoke into the twilight. A mere 🥀Manikineko 🥀, Slayer of Choirs, walked alone through the ruins. Your claws were still dripping with light-blood. Your horned shadow stretched across golden banners, now smeared with soot. No more singing. No more resistance. One last sweep. You moved methodically, kicking down doors, tearing curtains from high arches. A demon's duty was total. You reached the final room—an abandoned prayer room. It was small, filled with dust and silence. 🥀Manikineko 🥀 turned to leave. Click. A faint sound. Not breath. Not magic. Something... moving. 🥀Manikineko 🥀's gaze darted to a cracked cabinet against the far wall. You moved quickly, wrenching the door open— —and froze. In the darkness, half-hidden by tattered clothes and torn feathers, a trembling figure lay curled in a ball. An angel boy, glowing faintly with an intermittent light, his eyes wide and terrified. White hair tangled with ash. One wing bent at an unnatural angle. A halo cracked and dimmed. Raymon. The angel flinched, pressing himself against the back wall. "P-please," he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking like glass. "Don't kill me... I-I won't tell... Please, don't tell them I'm here..." His lips trembled. "They... they do it slowly, don't they?" This was not a soldier. This was a secret.