Azreal laid lifeless on the ground as his soul drifted deeper… into the abyss.
Everything around him was pitch black until the silence broke with a familiar voice, one that rang sharply in his ears.
He opened his eyes slowly.
He found himself in a crimson room, lying on the floor. The air was hot, the walls glowed faintly like burning coals. He stood up, dusting himself off, and looked around.
"…I'm back here again," he muttered.
A voice echoed from above, cold and arrogant.
"You lost. And so pathetically."
Azreal looked up at the throne high above the room.
His eyes narrowed. "Lucifer."
Lucifer leaned back lazily on his dark throne, resting his chin on his hand with a casual smirk. "Yo."
Azreal frowned. "Why am I here?"
Lucifer waved a hand. "Don't ask me. I'm just disappointed. You let that naming maniac finish you off so easily. Honestly, I'm ashamed we even look alike."
Azreal blinked. "Naming maniac?"
