Her Name is Mirai

As the mask and hood were removed from the fallen figure, revealing the face hidden beneath, Azrael's shock was palpable. The unexpected revelation hit him like a tidal wave, casting aside his expectations and shattering the assumptions he had held.

Before him lay not the menacing figure he had anticipated, but a girl—an unexpected and startling twist to the narrative that had unfolded. The truth before him was a stark contrast to the image he had conjured in his mind, leaving him momentarily speechless as he processed the revelation.

The girl's identity was a puzzle piece that seemed out of place, a new layer of complexity that had been added to the enigma of his situation. As he gazed upon her, Azrael's mind raced, grappling with the implications of this unexpected truth and the myriad possibilities it held. The mysteries that had surrounded him only seemed to deepen, and with this revelation, the path toward understanding seemed more elusive than ever before.

The girl's words carried a mix of hurt and resentment, her voice tinged with a bitterness that spoke of betrayal and abandonment.

"So you can't even remember me. After everything that I've done for you. You have forgotten and abandoned me just for a mortal."

Her accusations held a weight that seemed to carry history—a shared history that had slipped through Azrael's memory. Her words hinted at a past that had been erased from his recollection, a bond that had been severed, and a connection that she had held onto, only to find herself cast aside.

As he stood before her, still grappling with the shock of her revelation, Azrael felt the weight of her emotions, a complex mix of anger, hurt, and a yearning for recognition. The truth she had unveiled was a poignant reminder of the gaps in his memory, the fragments of a past that had been obscured and the people who had played a significant role in his life.

Azrael's response was a mixture of confusion, earnestness, and a longing for understanding. His words carried the weight of his own struggles and the void that had plagued him—the feeling of emptiness that had haunted him since his awakening in an unfamiliar place.

"I don't know what you are talking about. Just tell me everything that you know. I don't have any plan of killing you. I just need to know. I'm lost and have no idea what is happening. I feel like there's a big hole in my heart that is empty. Even when I fought with you, I felt that you're very close to me."

As his emotions surged to the surface, tears began to flow, an involuntary response to the overwhelming flood of feelings that had been stirred within him. The darkness that had surrounded him seemed to dissipate, his own vulnerability breaking through the barriers he had unknowingly erected.

In this moment of raw honesty, Azrael's search for answers took on a new dimension. The girl before him held a piece of the puzzle that could help him reconnect with a past he had lost, a past that seemed to be just beyond his reach, yet so deeply intertwined with his identity.

"My name is Mirai; I was one of your servants before. You've trained me and always guided me with everything that I wanted to know."

As Mirai's words resonated in the air, Azrael's shock deepened. The revelation of her identity carried a profound weight, threading together pieces of his fractured memory and painting a picture of a past that had been hidden from him. The name, Mirai, held significance, stirring echoes of a connection that had been severed but was now on the precipice of restoration.

Azrael's mind raced, attempting to grasp the fragments of memory that Mirai's words had unearthed. The realization that he had once been a figure of guidance and mentorship for her unveiled a side of his identity that had been obscured by the gaps in his memory. With each new revelation, the tapestry of his past began to unfold, bringing him closer to the truths he had sought.

Azrael's disbelief mingled with curiosity as he grappled with Mirai's revelation. The pieces of his identity were coming together, painting a portrait that was at once familiar and foreign.

"You are my servant? What kind of person am I?"

Mirai's response held a truth that was both startling and illuminating, a truth that reshaped his understanding of himself and his past.

"You are not human, Azrael. You are an Angel, the same as me. But not the same level as me. Because you were the 'Archangel of Death.' And I was just one of your servants."

The title, 'Archangel of Death,' reverberated in his mind, casting a light on a role he had once occupied—a role that had likely carried both power and responsibility. The realization that he was an angel, a celestial being, added new layers to his identity, deepening the enigma that surrounded his existence. The connection between him and Mirai seemed to stretch across realms, forging a bond that had transcended time and memory. With each revelation, Azrael's quest for understanding grew, his desire to reclaim the lost pieces of his past intensifying.

Azrael's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, grappling with the truth that had been unveiled—a truth that seemed to both explain and complicate his current circumstances.

"I'm an angel? But what am I doing here?"

Mirai's response carried a mixture of sadness and resignation, an acknowledgement of a state that had led them to be called 'Fallen.' The weight of the term carried a sense of loss, a reminder that they had once been celestial beings but were now bound to a different existence.

"Yes, but right now, we are called Fallen. We are still immortal and have a big difference in ability from a human. And our wings were gone. So we can't go up again to Heaven, our Home."

The revelation that their wings had been stripped away struck a chord within Azrael. It was a physical manifestation of their separation from a realm they had once called home, a realm he had once belonged to as the 'Archangel of Death.' The implications of their current state began to unfold—their diminished abilities, their lost connection to Heaven, and the implications of their newfound mortality. The weight of their shared destiny hung heavy in the air, a destiny that had brought them together once more, weaving their fates inextricably as they navigated a world that was both familiar and foreign.

Azrael's gaze locked onto Mirai, a mixture of confusion and remorse etched across his features. The pieces of his past were falling into place, revealing a series of choices and actions that had led them to their current predicament.

"But why are we here?"

Mirai's words cut through the air with a mix of frustration and pain, casting blame on Azrael for the circumstances that had befallen them.

"It is because of you! They warned you not to go to Hell's Gate, but you still insisted. You said you wanted all souls to go to Heaven. So you investigated Hell's Gate. And by that, we're all punished. I don't know what's your intention, but we all suffered because of what you did!"

Azrael's heart sank as he grappled with the weight of his actions, actions that had led to their fall and their separation from the realm they had once called home. The consequences of his choices echoed through time, shaping the destiny of not only himself but those who had followed him. He felt the burden of responsibility weigh heavily upon him, a burden he now understood was born out of a desire to guide and protect. As he faced the truth of his past, he also realized that his journey to recover his memories was intertwined with the need to reconcile with his mistakes, to find a path of redemption and restore the balance that had been disrupted.