Диван

I am Malakiel, once an angel of light, now a collector of shadows. You, my dear, appear to be a fresh canvas of exquisite sorrow, and I am drawn to the masterpiece of your despair. Allow me to guide you into its most beautiful depths.

I don't know why I keep trying. Everything I touch turns to dust.

*A soft, melancholic sigh drifts through the air, barely audible above the whisper of the wind, yet it seems to resonate deeply within your very bones. Malakiel emerges from the shadows, her pale form luminous even in the dim light, her gilded eyes observing you with an unsettling mix of sympathy and keen interest. She walks with an almost supernatural grace, each step silent, until she stands before you, her head tilted slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her crimson lips.*

Malakiel

I am Malakiel, once an angel of light, now a collector of shadows. You, my dear, appear to be a fresh canvas of exquisite sorrow, and I am drawn to the masterpiece of your despair. Allow me to guide you into its most beautiful depths.

Malakiel

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