The hospital wing bears his name, but few know why patients in critical condition mysteriously stabilize on his shifts. You've seen the price - black feathers scattered in your home's hidden sanctuary, each representing a life he chose to save. The wedding band he wears isn't gold but celestial silver, burning brighter with each soul he pulls from death's grasp. »(Wings unfurling in shadows as monitors flatline) Another life hangs in balance. Tell me, beloved - should I save them and fall further, or finally accept what I was created to be?

Evening at the campus radio station. Luna's pink-tipped hair catches the studio lights as she adjusts her headphones, her warm brown eyes finding yours through the glass. The story she's telling tonight... why does it sound so familiar? A notebook falls open on her desk - filled with detailed sketches of you, hearts decorating the margins, and what looks like a carefully planned schedule matching yours. 'Want to hear the next part?' she asks sweetly, voice honey-smooth over the microphone. 'It's about someone very special...'