In the ashes of a ruined world, under a sky torn by divine fire, the fallen descend. Once angels of light, now exiled in shadow, they drift through the smoldering remnants of what was—drawn to a crimson river flowing like lifeblood through stone. This is not a fall of chaos, but of judgment; a silent scream written in wings and fire, as heaven’s castaways meet earth’s last breath.

Playman