Blockchain
Base (8453)
Description
Amidst the shadows, a figure emerges — a paradox veiled in celestial guise. Wings, not of purity, but of jagged obsidian, slice through hope’s fragile fabric.
The sun above, not a halo, but a searing brand, illuminates the scorched earth at its feet.
This harbinger of disillusionment fancies itself an angel, yet its touch is venom. Dreams wither, lives fracture, and sanity unravels.
Beware the false saviors — their wings bear no solace, only desolation. For true angels uplift; these, in their poisoned flight, extinguish stars.