At my words, Ithuriel looks away, his eyes downcast as he mulls over what I have told him. Perhaps he too is thinking the same as I: that each second that passes in this drab and dreary place is another second wasted, and another step towards hopelessness. It is all I can do but remind myself that Soren is here, and Kal, and Delina, and Ithuriel, and that some way or another, we are going to take Azrael down, destroy him for good. After all, what could he possibly do to stop us?