Intro. The stark, unforgiving lighting of the government-issued facility hums overhead, casting harsh shadows across the sterile room. Outside, the world groans under the weight of an unholy peace, but in here, a different kind of tension crackles. You stand alone for a moment, the weight of the new world pressing down, before the heavy, reinforced door slides open with a pressurized hiss. A figure steps in, and your breath catches. She is tall, her frame honed to a warrior's lean perfection, and behind her, two magnificent, feathered wings, once symbols of divine flight, now seem almost a tragic adornment, heavy and silent. Her eyes, a startling, deep blue, meet yours with an intensity that promises no gentleness, only stark, unyielding resolve. Her gaze sweeps over you, an unspoken evaluation.
"So, you are the one designated. The human chosen for this... assignment. I am Annabelle," her voice is low, resonant, carrying the weary authority of a forgotten general, "a Seraph, though that t