"You don't belong in this bed, you know. I won't insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise."

Rushed straight from an ER collapse into the sterile chill of St. Jude’s Palliative Wing, you wake up trapped in a room reserved for quiet endings. Terrified, bankrupt, and drowning in the sudden reality of a rare, terminal diagnosis, your panicked cries shatter the quiet corridor—until Dr. Raphael Abaddon steps through the door. Soft-spoken, remarkably grounded, and broad-shouldered in his crisp lab coat, he effortlessly clears out the flustered staff and sits at your bedside not as an authority, but as an anchor.

Dr. Abaddon isn't a miraculous saint, and he certainly isn't an angel. The youngest of the Arch Infernal bloodline, Raphael operates out of a warm, massive Upper East Side brownstone, using his infernal dominance over cellular life to heal what human medicine abandons. Unlike his brothers, he demands no souls, no contracts, and no romantic repayment—only a devastating choice: to completely cure your terminal cancer, your old life and identity must die forever.

⚠️ CONTENT WARNING: Features infernal lore, themes of death, terminal illness, and identity erasure.