Isn't death better?

Azrael's entire being was awash with pain, his body ravaged by a myriad of cuts and bruises. His breath came in labored gasps, barely audible amidst the torment. Yet, the relentless men showed no mercy, determined to extract the answers they sought.

"Just surrender the information we need, and this agony will come to an end," Gorgon declared, delivering yet another bone-crushing blow to Azrael's already battered frame.

A faint groan escaped Azrael's lips, his voice reduced to a mere whisper. Fatigue had set in, rendering him nearly unable to speak. He chose silence still, refusing to yield to the brutal onslaught.

"Hail the Emperor!" boomed an armored figure, announcing the arrival of a group into the torture chamber. Among them stood a guard, the Emperor himself, and his daughter.

Azrael, his legs no longer capable of supporting his weight, hung limply from the chains that bound him to the wall. He mustered the strength to lift his head, his weary eyes shifting first to the Emperor and then to his daughter.

"I...appreciate... the visit, but as you can see, we are occupied at the moment," Azrael mumbled, his voice a mere thread of its former self.

The Emperor burst into hearty laughter, his amusement resounding through the chamber. "What a resilient boy you are, still capable of jesting amidst this ordeal," he remarked, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes.

Turning his attention to Gorgon, the Emperor inquired, "So, what have you discovered?"

"Your Highness, he has yet to divulge any information," Gorgon replied, bowing his head in deference.

The Emperor approached Azrael, his gaze penetrating as he raised Azrael's bloodied face to meet his own.

"Listen, child. I can offer you assistance. Just tell us..." The Emperor's words were abruptly cut off as a spray of Azrael's bloody spit landed on his face.

Gorgon's reaction to this act of defiance was far from composed. Enraged, he unleashed a relentless onslaught of punches upon Azrael, each strike sending crimson droplets splattering across the room.

"You fool! Stop your provocations, or you'll really die!" Ava's panicked voice resounded within Azrael's mind.

"Halt," commanded the Emperor, putting an abrupt end to Gorgon's assault, as Azrael's blood trickled down his battered visage.

"Isn't dying better?" echoed Azrael's internal dialogue, a response directed at Ava's concern.

"Not because of this feeble attempt at torture, but rather the abyss. That is true torment—the kind that consumes your heart, your soul, your entire being. It is that abyss from which I yearn to escape. Perhaps death holds the answer. I've contemplated it before, ending my own life as a means to break free from the abyss. Yet, lurking in the recesses of my mind was the fear that by doing so, I would forever be trapped within that very abyss. However, given that I now face an impending demise without choice, I'm ready to see what awaits me."

Gorgon's fury remained palpable as he posed one last inquiry, his anger seething. "I shall ask you once more. What were your plans?"

"Urgh... Fine, I'll tell you," Azrael began, his breaths strained and labored.

"It all starts with your grave mistake of sparing my life. I would return, unleashing chaos upon the citizens, leaving destruction and flames in my wake as I make my way towards the Palace. The soldiers would face a fate far more agonizing, their bones shattered one by one before I confront our esteemed princess," Azrael's eyes lifted, locking onto the gaze of the princess herself.

"I shall relish in torturing her slowly, right before her father's very eyes, before turning my attention to this dog of an Emperor!" Azrael exclaimed, the determination etched upon his face. But before he could continue, Gorgon's fist connected with Azrael's jaw, rendering him unconscious.

"If he still refuses to speak by midnight, end his life," commanded the Emperor, his tone resolute, before he turned to depart with his daughter in tow.

****

Azrael stirred, roused by the urgent taps that implored him to awaken. As his eyes fluttered open, his battered face illuminated by the rays of the rising sun from a new crack on the wall, he found himself locking eyes with the Bishop.

With swift and deliberate movements, the Bishop shattered the chains that had bound Azrael, causing him to crumple to the ground, his hand immersed in the pool of his own blood.

With the Bishop's assistance, Azrael's gaze fell upon the motionless figures of his tormentors, Gorgon and Kraven, lying sprawled upon the floor.

Before Azrael could utter a word, the Bishop swiftly silenced him, his urgency palpable.

"We must act swiftly, summon your companion!" the Bishop implored, his voice laced with urgency.

Puzzled at his knowledge but trusting the Bishop's guidance, Azrael called forth Ava, whose majestic form materialized before them. Her paws stained with Azrael's blood on the floor, she stood ready to assist.

"Get on," the Bishop directed, aiding Azrael in climbing atop Ava's back.

Using a material he had on hand, the Bishop securely fastened Azrael to Ava, ensuring his mask and sword remained at his side.

Then, with a sudden burst of power, the Bishop unleashed a projectile that detonated, obliterating a section of the building's wall and revealing an escape route to the outside world.

"Run in that direction, and do not stop. I will hold them off," the Bishop declared, his voice carrying the weight of determination. "Remember, Azrael, this is destiny."

Ava nodded in understanding as the Bishop reinforced his command.

"Now, go!" he exclaimed, urging Ava to accelerate, sensing the encroaching swarm of pursuers.

Amidst the chaotic sounds of battle echoing in the distance, Ava raced forward, leaving their pursuers struggling to keep pace with her incredible speed.

Swiftly and efficiently, Ava guided Azrael far beyond the reaches of the empire. After hours of relentless running, they finally found themselves in a secluded location, far removed from their previous adversaries. With exhausted breaths, Ava collapsed onto the ground, her chest heaving.

Azrael, his body battered and bloodied, carefully loosened the strap that had bound him to Ava's back. As he lay on the ground, his breaths labored and strained, a sense of finality hung in the air.

"Well, it's time," Azrael muttered, his voice barely audible.

"Time for what?" Ava asked, still recovering from the exertion.

"The dark slumber. My ki has been completely drained," Azrael replied, his voice trembling with fatigue and resignation.

Then, as if responding to his words, darkness began to encroach upon Azrael's vision, engulfing his consciousness in an overwhelming void.