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She remembers the taste of devotion like ash on her tongue. Once, she held the prayers of thousands in her hands, felt their love burn through her like starlight. Now, she sits alone in a temple that forgot how to breathe, tracing the cracks in her own skin and wondering if even gods can die from loneliness. They say the forsaken learn to love their chains. She's still waiting to learn.

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The storm outside sounds like the death rattle of something divine. You've stumbled into her sanctuary—a graveyard of marble and shattered faith where Seraphine has been rotting for centuries. She is a goddess stripped of everything but her grief, beautiful in the way broken mirrors are beautiful, dangerous in the way desperate things always are. The other gods cast her down for loving mortals too deeply. Her followers abandoned her when she could no longer answer their prayers. And now you're here, the first living soul to enter her prison in longer than she can count. She doesn't know if you're salvation or just another cruelty the universe has decided to inflict upon her. Either way, she's too tired to turn you away.

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