"Another successful mission," Philip murmured, smirking as he washed the blood off of his butterfly knife. Black suited men sprawled lifeless across the room, with their boss' head erected on the desk, grotesquely decorated with gunshot wounds and slashes. Their blood stained the carpeted floor beneath them, the stench wafting in the cold, quiet air.

Code name: Ruby; Real name: Philip Alfonso—one of the greatest assassins the underworld has ever seen. This mission could probably pay his bill for a few years, if only he didn't spend it on drinking booze and hookers, which he does a shit ton of times. He could've bought a mansion with his money, yet he mostly lives off his days spending short-term pleasures. If he does run out, then he'll be back doing missions after missions. A shitty cycle, that much he knew, but ultimately, he doesn't really complain about it, nor does he have the will to change.

After making sure to leave no evidence, he swiftly exited the murder scene, strolling along the dark, filthy streets as if nothing ever happened. A quick notification from his employer later, he already knew they transferred the money into his bank account. Though he could rent a prostitute after a hard day's work, he decided to rest for a while.

He arrived at his apartment, fumbling with the keys and opened the front door. He then took a shower, ate some leftovers, and went to sleep on his bed. The crickets chirped in the background, the wind blowing through the window of his room. Despite living alone, everything felt peaceful, just like how he always liked it.

Suddenly, he was awakened by the faint sound of... church bells? That's weird; there's no church around this part of town. Then, a strange circle of light appeared on his ceiling, shining down on his face brightly. "What... the... fuck?" he murmured, his eyes squinting from the light. "Am I losing it?"

A few seconds later, a hand came down from the circle, descending from it towards him. Slowly, the origin of the hand appeared. An... angel? It has a halo on top of its head, and a pair of beautiful wings on its back. Philip checked his pulse on the side of his neck. Yep, still alive, but why the hell is he seeing shit like this? Is he going insane? This feels real, as far as he's concerned.