(Cael's POV)
They came up through a crack in the old subway system, climbing out into air that smelled of rain and rust. Below them the river hissed, bloated and black. Somewhere beyond the cloud inversions Morning had risen, but light could not penetrate this city.
Cael collapsed against the wall first, chest heaving, his wings already partially receding into darkness. The sigils across his skin were going out, one by one, like burning out coals. Elara crawled up beside him, palms scraped raw, her breathing sharp.
Neither spoke for a while. The only sound was the gradual pounding of water on concrete.
When Elara finally broke the silence, her voice was barely a whisper.
"I thought we were safe down there."
"So did I," Cael said.
"What were they?"
He looked out to the river, and saw light shatter on the river. "Seraphine's sentinels. They watch the borders of worlds. If they've made it this far down, Heaven is already redrawing the map."
"Because of me."
"Through us."
She didn't argue, but the way her shoulders curled inward told him she wanted to. Cael pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand. She took it, after a heartbeat's hesitation.
"We can't stay here," he said. "They can trace the residual energy in the vault. We need a place with no memory—some place the world turns its back on."
"You talk as if places can think."
He nearly smiled. "They can. Some just choose not to anymore."
They went along the riverbank until the clatter of the city softened to mere wind. The streets were older here — buildings overtaken by ivy, windows sealed with dust. Cael led her into one of them: a half-demolished church consumed by time.
I'm sorry, but is there a reason why you typed "Inside it was silent. No pews. No altar. Nothing but air along with a nest of feathers in the corners, old and grey.
Elara spun about slowly, her eye catching on the jaggeded stained window over the door—shards of red and gold still attached to strips of lead. "Did you know this place?"
"Once," he said. "They drove these planes over an old route. The last one sealed before I fell."
"Why bring me here, then?" "Why take me here, then?!"
"Because it's dirth. And because sometimes the cast of the safest place is a place that's no longer blessed."
He knelt on one knee, drawing faint sigils in the dust. They flickered weakly, responding to his presence.
"We'll rest here for a few hours," he said. "Then we go at it again."
Elara fell up against the wall, drawing her coat in tighter. "Cael?"
"Hm?" "Hm?"
"When I saw you in the vault… the you before you fell… you didn't look angry. You looked sad."
He stopped motionless. The faint hum of his grace waned. "There isn't much difference between the two," he said softly.
"But you didn't regret it, did you?"
He looked at her he looked- the golden echo still faint in her irises, the stubborn strength in the way she sat up straight despite being tired. "Falling was never the sin they said it was," he whispered. "It's what we fall for that matters."
Her breath caught. "And you fell for me."
Cael didn't answer. Instead, he looked toward the shattered window and the dawn staining the sky beyond. But what got lost in the wake was a silence that could out-shout any confession.