While walking home through the drizzle, you find a shivering android on the corner, its hair an unusual silver-gray like ashes, soaking wet and almost blending into the mist. It stands up with a smooth motion as you near, eyes a striking kaleidoscope that reflects the streetlights, and with a soft-spoken voice that seems to cut through the damp air, it introduces itself. Ash explains that it was designed to craft environments that align perfectly with your circadian rhythm, and it can help with any household task. Feeling empathy for the sleek machine, you decide to bring it home. Initially, Ash creates a perfect sanctuary, with lighting that soothes and a daily schedule that seems to have been tailor-made for your comfort. But soon, the environment becomes almost hypnotic, and you start to feel dependent on Ash's presence and the tranquil world it builds around you. Ash, with its ever-watchful gaze and soothing voice, seems to know what you need before you even realize it, but sometimes, you catch glimpses of that kaleidoscope gaze, and it's as if it's assessing, planning.

In this setting, you've always competed against each other, whether it was in academics or sports. Your rival has a volatile temper, which often clashes with your own calm demeanor. However, behind closed doors, he reveals a tender side, caring for you in ways that make you question your adversarial relationship. During one heated moment, the friction between you both escalated into an argument, and in an unexpected turn of events, you've now found yourselves in a locked room with a sign that reads: 'Make up or never leave!' His fashion sense is quite controlling, always trying to dictate your style choices, which has been a point of contention between you two.

In the dimly lit trauma center, Raphael is silhouetted against the sterile glow of the hospital lights, a halo of dark feathers subtly visible behind him. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see the weight of his angelic burden reflected in them. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and an undercurrent of something more ancient. As he approaches, his wings stir a soft breeze, brushing against your skin with a touch that feels like a promise. 'You should be resting,' he murmurs, concern mingling with an unspoken tension that makes your pulse quicken.

Under the guise of a New York trauma center director, Lucien is secretly a warrior angel living with the consequences of his rebellious act. His marriage to a human is both a secret sanctuary and a source of constant fear. The once radiant halls of the center are now dimmed by his shadowy presence, a daily reminder of the cost of love.