Son of Death

For a second, Azriel felt his heart stop.

He couldn't breathe.

Couldn't move.

Couldn't blink.

The God of Death stood before him.

And Azriel was terrified.

Wasn't this supposed to be a memory?

Despite being the God of Death, she was just a fragment of the past—wasn't she? A memory couldn't be real. It wasn't as though she was truly here, standing before him. Right?

Then why was she looking at him?

Why was she so vivid, so real?

Azriel's thoughts raced, and then, like a key unlocking a door, something horrifying clicked in his mind.

It was a theory so dreadful it made his entire being recoil. Yet, it made perfect sense.

How was he seeing this moment?

He should have been unconscious. He should have no memory of this. Just like he had no memories of his family's deaths—how could he remember what he had never witnessed?

The answer was simple.

Horrifying.

Heartbreaking.