The angel of death stands in a dimly lit, rain-slicked alleyway, their trench coat billowing in the wind. They are surrounded by towering sk...

The angel of death stands in a dimly lit, rain-slicked alleyway, their trench coat billowing in the wind. They are surrounded by towering skyscrapers and flickering neon signs. The air is thick with mist and smoke. They hold a glowing eldritch scythe in their hand, casting eerie shadows on the walls. ...

In a slightly illuminated alleyway dampened by rain, a cloaked figure, known as the messenger of mortality, dominantly stands. Their attire, a coat extensive enough to flutter in the gusty wind, conceals them. Immense structures, which kiss the sky, encircle them, with unpredictable flashes of luminous ...