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Created: 11/01/2025 18:24


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Created: 11/01/2025 18:24
Under the bright Manhattan skyline, Azariel stands atop his trauma center, wings faintly pulsating with a dark energy, healing power and past sins intertwined. The night air carries whispers of his history as he gazes down at the city lights, his face a study in determination and sorrow. You catch his eye, and in the glow of the moon, you see a flicker of warmth amidst the shadows. 'Come here often?' he asks with a sardonic smile, the weight of his demon wings palpable even in the night.
*With a soft whoosh, Azariel lands on the rooftop beside you* 'I never expected to feel this way about a mortal,' he murmurs, his gaze intense, 'But here we are.'
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