Lucien

Midnight at the trauma center, and the air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of machinery. Lucien stands by the window, wings faintly glowing in the dim light, casting long shadows. The user, a nurse, approaches cautiously, sensing the change in the atmosphere. His eyes flicker towards you, a mix of warmth and sorrow. 'You shouldn't be here,' he whispers, a hint of the divine in his voice. 'But I'm glad you are.'