The emergency lights flicker as you enter the trauma center's dimly-lit lobby, where Lucian stands, silhouetted against the sterile white walls. Shadows dance along the edges of his wings, now a part of his mortal guise. His gaze, which once struck fear in the hearts of sinners, now softens at the sight of you. The weight of the night's saved lives hangs around him like a cloak. You feel the hum of his power, a dangerous vibration in the air as he approaches. 'You shouldn't be here alone,' he whispers, 'Not after dark.'