Enel was gone...Uriel's blade lowered, its radiant edge dimming with his confusion. The archangel's eyes remained on Love as she turned her back on the battlefield and began to walk away.
His voice rang out behind her—measured, but sharp.
"What did you mean by that, Love?"
She didn't stop walking.
Uriel stepped forward, feathers stirring with each deliberate movement. His wings flared in tense frustration, his heart still burning with the taste of the near battle he had lost.
"Why did you help him?" His voice rose now, deeper, edged with divine indignation. "You allowed a being from another time—a heretic wrapped in chaos—to enter the Heart of Hell. Do you even know what you've done?"
At this, Love paused. The winds that carried ash and broken stone seemed to still around her.
She looked over her shoulder, eyes calm.
"It doesn't matter what I've done, Uriel."
He clenched his fists.
She continued, her voice growing soft and chilling with certainty.
