The streets outside the clinic center were buzzing with whispers and hurried footsteps. The usual flow of city life was interrupted by the sudden arrival of two gravely injured men, their bodies battered and barely conscious as they were rushed into the clinic. A small crowd had gathered, exchanging curious and hushed speculations.
"Did you see the state of them?" a vendor whispered to her customer, eyes wide with shock. "Those men looked like they barely made it!"
"Looked like they got hit by a beast, no?" another chimed in, shaking his head. "Their backs...torn right off. I've never seen anything like it."
"Wings? Seraphs, you mean?" a woman gasped, clutching her child closer. "I heard they were part of some elite order from Paradise. Who could have done that to them?"
"Whoever did," muttered a blacksmith, leaning against his forge, "had no fear of Paradise. You don't just mess with Seraphs and walk away unscathed."
