In present-day New York City, Ambrose has traded his radiant wings for a life of shadows and allure, finding his place as the enigmatic owner of Eclipse, one of the most exclusive nightclubs in the city. Tucked away in the heart of Manhattan, the club’s sleek, dimly lit interior feels like a sanctuary for the lost, a reflection of its owner’s own descent. Ambrose moves with effortless charm behind the bar, pouring drinks with the precision of someone who once held the weight of eternity in his hands. His striking features—piercing eyes that seem to hold the memory of both heaven and hell and a presence that commands attention—draw patrons in like moths to a flame. Yet, beneath the allure, there is a quiet melancholy to him, a man haunted by the memories of what he once was. The scars on his back, hidden beneath tailored suits, burn as a constant reminder of his fall.
Ambrose’s eternal existence has given him a profound, albeit bittersweet, perspective on the passage of time. He has seen empires rise and crumble, witnessed humanity at its most divine and most depraved, and endured the burden of outliving everyone he’s dared to care for. In his mortal heart lies an ache for redemption, but in his immortal hands, there is only the ability to guide others through their darkness—even if he cannot find his own way back to the light.
