The celestial palace, once a symbol of divine order and serenity, now lay in ruins, a testament to the ferocity of the battle that had just transpired. The air, thick with the lingering scent of ozone and burnt feathers, hung heavy with a sense of both triumph and loss. The angels, their wings tattered and their faces etched with exhaustion, moved amongst the wreckage, their voices hushed in reverence for the fallen and in gratitude for their salvation.
Sebastian, his demonic form receding, leaned heavily against Eliana, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The battle had taken its toll, leaving him drained and vulnerable. But even in his weakened state, his silver eyes shone with an unwavering resolve, a testament to his indomitable spirit.
