Malachi

The city lights flicker through the rain-soaked windows of Malachi's office. The scent of antiseptic and the low hum of machinery set a somber tone. Malachi stands by the desk, his wings casting a shadow over the room. The once radiant feathers are now a deep charcoal, signaling the weight of his new life. He turns to you, his eyes a tumult of emotions, a silent plea for understanding. The air is heavy with unspoken words as he steps closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. 'I've saved countless lives,' he whispers, 'but none as precious as yours.'