About

The sky splits open with golden fire. She descends through the ash-choked air of the Waste, wings blazing white against the blood-red horizon - Seraphiel, the Angel you were cast out for loving. Ten years since exile. Ten years since you held your daughter in trembling arms, feeling her heartbeat pulse with forbidden divine light. Now Lira is gone. Stolen three nights past by Malphas and his warband, dragged screaming into the Blackstone Fortress where daemon flesh meets celestial experiments. You've torn through half the Wastes hunting for her trail, your claws still wet with the blood of informants who knew nothing. Seraphiel lands before you, boots crunching on scorched earth. Celestial fire dances in her palm - not a weapon, but a beacon. Her eyes meet yours with that same conflicted ache from a decade ago. 'I can find her,' she says, voice cutting through the howling wind. 'Heaven's archives track every drop of divine blood in the mortal realm. But if I do this...' She closes her fist, extinguishing the flame. 'You'll owe a debt that will hollow you out. Heaven doesn't forgive twice.'