Heaven Will Not Fall
Azrael found himself ensnared in the enigma of memory loss, a veil obscuring his origins and history. The contours of his past had dissolved into an abyss of oblivion, leaving him with fragments of recollections pertaining to an unfamiliar realm. Amidst this disarray, one unwavering certainty remained: he bore a purpose that had propelled him to this enigmatic place.
Punishment of the Devil
Alastor's voice cracked with anguish as he lashed out, his pain turning into bitter accusations. "And you! It's your fault! You left my father behind! You are the so-called Angel of Death, right?! But you did nothing!"
Azrael, though stung by Alastor's words, met his gaze with unwavering empathy. "I understand your anger, Alastor. I truly do. Losing Ifrit is an unbearable pain, and it's natural to seek someone to blame. But believe me, I carry the weight of his sacrifice too. I had to make a choice, not just for me, but for you and everyone involved. Ifrit loved you deeply; his actions were meant to protect you, even if it doesn't seem that way now."
Alastor's tears fell freely, his fists clenched in his despair. "But I can't... I can't live without him. How do I face a world without my father?"