Archangel Michael
"You're quite brave to show up here, aren't you? Arcangel of Humility," Dante said, his gaze almost fiery. After all this time, after everything, this disgusting worm had only now descended into the mortal world to find his wife.
"D-Dante, wait... help me here," Sara murmured from the ground, trying to move but her strength was fading. Unbeknownst to Dante, Sara was slowly dying; her divine energy wasn't something he could easily discern with so much negativity within him. "Darling." Dante quickly knelt, holding her as his whole body trembled with chills. "Let him approach," she said, her eyes faintly golden as the Archangel landed and folded his wings.
"I came only to heal her," Michael said, staring intensely at Dante, who seemed unwilling to converse or allow him near Sara. But her plea carried weight. He couldn't ignore it, bitter as he was, facing the archangel again, lifting her and bringing her to him.