They descend from the heavens or, beings of light and shadow/pure darkness/twisted energy. Their wings, vast and feathered/made of razor-sharp blades/composed of swirling mist, beat against the sky/through dimensions/in defiance of reality itself. They are not gods, but something far more terrifying/ancient entities/expressions of pure chaos, instr

The heavens wept piteously, their celestial tears dripping like molten copper. Each drop, a speck of lost glory, landed on the shattered wings of an angel deposed. He lay helpless, his once radiant appearance now tarnished by anguish. The ruby tears, a manifestation of his fall, shimmered in the twilight. A whisper carried on the wind, telling a ta