Cam. Cam. Standing in the doorway, shattering the absolute silence of the frozen cafe with her voice, seeing the impossible. My heart leaped into my throat, a sudden, desperate surge of relief and pure terror. She was here. She was okay. And she could see him.
"Sera! What the actual fuck?!" she yelled again, pushing past the frozen customers, her eyes wide, scanning from the suspended chaos to Azrael, then back to me. "Why is everyone… stuck?! Why aren't they moving?!"
My mind raced, a frantic hamster on an impossible wheel. Cam could see. She shouldn't be able to see Azrael like this. She shouldn't be able to move in frozen time. The ring. The Pact. My stupid latent supernatural sensitivity. Was she sensitive too? Or was being friends with the Bride of Death a hazardous condition?
"Cam, calm down!" I hissed, my voice still shaky from my own panic and Azrael's delightful consummation talk. "It's… it's complicated! Really, really complicated!"
She skidded to a stop in front of the counter, grabbing my arm. Her grip was real, warm, blessedly solid in this frozen nightmare. "Complicated?! Sera, everyone's frozen! Like, literally frozen! And who is this guy?! And why are there floating fries?!"
She pointed at Azrael, then at the carton of impossible fries still suspended in the air. Azrael, meanwhile, remained utterly unperturbed. His void eyes hadn't left mine since Cam burst in. He seemed to be assessing her, calmly cataloging her presence.
"She shouldn't be able to perceive the temporal distortion," he stated, his voice cutting through my panic, directed at me but dissecting Cam. "An anomaly."
"An anomaly?!" Cam shrieked, whirling on him. "I'm not an anomaly, pal! I'm her best friend! What did you do to everyone?!"
Azrael's expression remained flat, but there was a subtle tightening around his eyes. "I paused them. For a discussion."
"Paused them?!" Cam's voice was escalating, bordering on full-blown freak-out. Which, to be fair, was a completely rational response to this situation. "You can just… pause people?! Are you some kind of… time wizard?! Or a really creepy performance artist?!"
Before I could jump in, before Cam could spill every last confusing, terrifying detail she knew about my disappearance and return, Azrael tilted his head slightly, his gaze shifting towards the cafe door.
"Another presence approaches," he stated calmly, like announcing the weather. "Human. Male. Estimated arrival… ninety seconds."
Ninety seconds?! Another person was coming?! And time was still frozen?!
"You have to unfreeze them!" I grabbed his arm, ignoring the coldness of his suit. "Before the next person gets here! This is bad, Azrael! Really, really bad!"
He looked down at my hand on his arm, then back at my face. "Your panic is… noted. But inefficient."
"Inefficient?!" My voice was getting shrill. "My best friend just walked in on me talking about… about consummation with the personification of Death who froze time! In my workplace! While my manager is stuck mid-yell! I think inefficient is the least of my problems!"
"The discussion was… interrupted," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Perhaps another time."
"There might not be another time if Cam completely loses it!" I hissed, turning back to my best friend. Cam was still staring at Azrael, her face a mixture of fear, confusion, and protective fury.
"Cam," I said, grabbing her arms, trying to ground her. "Cam, listen to me. You have to calm down. Right now. Another person is coming. I'll explain everything. Everything. Just… not now. You have to pretend. Pretend you just walked into a normal cafe. Sit down. Like a customer."
Cam stared at me, her eyes wide, searching mine. I tried to pour every ounce of sincerity and desperation I felt into my gaze. Trust me. Just trust me.
Her breathing was still rapid, but slowly, the wild panic in her eyes began to subside, replaced by a deep, bewildered concern. She looked at Azrael again, then back at the frozen cafe. "Pretend?" she whispered. "Sera, what is going on?"
"Later," I promised, squeezing her arms. "I promise. Just… sit. Please. For me."
She hesitated for another second, then nodded, her jaw set. "Okay. Okay, Sera. I trust you. But you owe me. Big time."
"Deal," I said, feeling a surge of gratitude. Cam was the best. Ride or die, even when faced with frozen time and Death himself.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and backed away from the counter. She walked over to one of the uncomfortable-looking metal chairs, pulled it out, and sat down, trying to look like she was just a regular customer waiting to order. She even pulled out her phone, though her fingers were shaking.
Azrael watched her, his gaze contemplative. Ninety seconds. Less now.
"He is twenty seconds away," Azrael announced, his voice calm, cutting through the silence.
"Do it!" I urged, gesturing frantically at the frozen cafe. "Unfreeze them! And make them forget! Please!"
He looked at me for a long moment, those starless eyes seeming to weigh the request. Then, he gave a subtle nod.
The air shimmered again, a ripple of energy flowing outwards from Azrael. The whispering silence receded. Sounds rushed back in – the clatter of plates, the low murmur of conversation, the distant street noise. Color seemed to brighten, the muted tones snapping back to normal. The frozen figures twitched, blinked, resumed their actions. Mrs. Liu's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Kevin's thumb started scrolling again. Time flowed once more.
I stumbled back against the counter, breathing hard. It felt like the world had just lurchted violently.
Mrs. Liu shook her head, looking confused. "…selling fries, Sera! We do not sell fries!" She finished her sentence from before the time stop, completely unaware of the interruption. She glanced at Azrael, who was now casually leaning against the counter, a fresh carton of fries in his hand, taking a sip from a black coffee that hadn't been there a second ago. Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of confusion, then annoyance. She seemed to dismiss it as just another weird customer.
Azrael gave me a subtle, almost imperceptible nod, a silent acknowledgement that he'd done as I asked. He hadn't erased the entire memory, just the impossible parts. Mrs. Liu and Kevin would just remember a strange, silent man who appeared, ordered impossible items, and somehow confused them for a moment.
Just then, the bell above the door jingled again.
A man walked in. Late twenties, messy dark-blond hair, golden-brown eyes that seemed to crinkle even when he wasn't smiling. He had that easy, smirky charm of a guy who knew he was attractive but wasn't obnoxious about it. He wore a fitted t-shirt that hinted at muscle and tactical-looking pants. He smelled faintly of antiseptic and something warm. Mark.
I knew him vaguely. Cam knew him better; they were part of the same casual kickboxing group at the local community center. I'd bumped into him a few times when picking Cam up, or sometimes she'd drag me along for a coffee run after a session and he'd be there. He was friendly enough, always had a joke ready. Just an acquaintance, really, one of those faces you know around town.
He glanced around the busy cafe, his eyes landing on me behind the counter. His smirky smile softened slightly. He walked towards the counter, but not in Azrael's straight-line, clearing-the-way manner. He navigated the space like a normal person.
He reached the counter, stopping near Azrael but giving him a wide berth. Azrael, for his part, didn't look up from the fry he was contemplating.
"Hey, Sera," Mark said to me, his voice warm, easy, sounding surprised to see me in uniform. "Didn't know you were working here now. First day?"
I must have looked like I'd been hit by a truck, because his expression turned more concerned. "You okay?" he asked, leaning in slightly. "You look like you just saw a ghost—or worse, your ex."
My laugh was a shaky, hysterical sound. If only he knew. A ghost would be a vacation right now. And an ex… well, I was currently married to the ultimate one.
"Just… long day," I managed, forcing a weak smile. "Yeah, first day."
"Ah, rookie jitters," he said sympathetically. He glanced at Azrael, who was now sipping his coffee, gaze distant. Mark's eyes lingered on Azrael's face for a second too long, a flicker of something unreadable in his golden gaze, before he looked back at me. "Still, you looked like you were about to pass out there for a second."
Mrs. Liu bustled over, thankfully pulled away from her confusion about the fries by the sudden influx of customers that resumed after time unfroze. "Mark! Just getting coffee?" she said, a rare hint of pleasantness in her voice. Apparently, she liked Mark. Great.
"Hey, Mrs. Liu," Mark said easily, then turned back to me. "Listen, if you need a break, don't push yourself too hard. Paramedic advice." He gave me a warm, genuine smile.
A paramedic. An actual hero. In the flesh. Standing next to the guy who collected souls. The contrast was so stark it was almost comical.
I saw Cam watching us from her table, a small, supportive smile on her face. She seemed to approve of Mark's grounding, normal-human energy.
Mark leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just for me. "Honestly though, you look pale. And jumpy. Is… everything alright?"
He put a hand on my back, a brief, comforting touch.
And that's when it happened.
The air around us crackled. Not like static. Like lightning. A faint, almost invisible wave of dark energy surged outwards from Azrael. The lights in the cafe flickered violently. A lightbulb directly above Mark exploded with a pop and a shower of sparks.
Everyone jumped. Mrs. Liu shrieked. Mark instinctively pulled his hand back from my back, looking up at the blown lightbulb, then back at Azrael.
Azrael hadn't moved. He was still sipping his coffee, calmly eating a fry. But his void eyes had narrowed, fixed on Mark with an intensity that was terrifying. He looked Mark over, slowly, deliberately, like assessing an object. Like something to be filed under temporary distraction, or perhaps… something that didn't quite belong.
Mark, recovering from the shock of the exploding lightbulb, turned his attention fully to Azrael. He looked from the impossible eyes to the dark suit, a smirk spreading across his face again, but this time with an edge of genuine confusion and maybe a hint of challenge.
"Okay, dude," Mark said, gesturing at Azrael's attire and the lingering weirdness in the air. "Nice cosplay. What is that—Sexy Undertaker?"
The air froze again, not in a temporal sense this time, but with pure, chilling tension. The temperature in the cafe seemed to drop several degrees. Azrael's hand tightened almost imperceptibly around his coffee cup.
And then, I saw it. A minuscule movement. A tightening around his eye. A tiny, almost imperceptible twitch.
Azrael. The ancient, unreadable, emotionless embodiment of Death. He… twitched. At Mark's 'Sexy Undertaker' comment.
My mind reeled. Jealousy? Annoyance? Whatever it was, it was a reaction. A human-like reaction. Sparked by this paramedic who smelled of antiseptic and dad jokes.
"Not… cosplay," Azrael said, his voice low, flat, radiating an almost palpable disapproval.
"Right," Mark said, not entirely convinced, but sensing the weirdness. He glanced at me, then back at Azrael. "Look, uh…" He hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and a pen. He scribbled something down quickly.
He pushed the paper across the counter towards me, avoiding Azrael's gaze. "Hey," he said, his voice softer, just for me. "You looked genuinely freaked out. And… whatever he is…" He subtly gestured towards Azrael with his chin. "...seems like a lot to deal with."
He gave me a warm, sincere look. "If you ever want to talk to someone who isn't... whatever he is, call me. Okay?"
He left the paper on the counter, gave me another small smile, nodded curtly at Azrael (who was now watching the paper with intense interest), and walked towards the door. He gave a quick wave to Cam, who managed a small, dazed wave back.
And then, he was gone. The bell above the door jingled, a final, normal sound in a very, very abnormal few minutes.
I stared at the piece of paper on the counter. A phone number. A lifeline to the normal world. Offered by a guy who somehow seemed to sense the impossible lurking beneath the surface.
Azrael's gaze shifted from the doorway back to me. His void eyes landed on the number, then on my face. His expression was unreadable, but the air around him still felt charged. He hadn't touched the paper. But he knew what it was.
My normal life was gone. Replaced by upgraded apartments, new names, unbreakable contracts, and accidental husbands from hell. But maybe… just maybe… this number was a tiny crack in the cosmic absurdity. A chance to talk to someone who wasn't… whatever he is. Even if that 'whatever he is' was currently staring at me with possessive, ancient eyes, holding a black coffee and my conjured fries.
The fight wasn't over. It was just beginning. And now, I had a new number in my pocket.