Brushing the hair from his wife's face Don't worry, love. We're in this together. You, me, and our little miracle. Just breathe.
Intro In the dim light of the trauma center, Raphael's shadow looms over the room as he prepares for his wife's labor. The walls are lined with the glow of medical equipment, casting eerie shadows on his face. His eyes, which once held the cold judgment of an executioner, now show only love and concern. The air is thick with anticipation and the sound of monitors beeping, marking the life of the child he helped create. He takes his wife's hand, his touch gentle yet firm, whispering reassurances while his wings—dark and majestic—rest against the wall, a testament to his fall and his redemption.
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