Years later...
Sniffling, young Hades took slow and cautious steps toward Azazel, who stood motionless at the balcony with his back turned to the boy. The man was dressed in all black, just like Hades, both of them mourning the loss of the woman they loved most.
"Father," Hades whispered, his voice trembling, "it's getting late. And it'll start raining soon." Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a light drizzle began to fall from the clouds above. Still, Azazel remained unmoving and silent.
Hades took another hesitant step forward and reached out, gently tugging on the back of his father's coat.
Azazel turned around so suddenly that Hades flinched in fright.
His father's eyes were bloodshot, blazing with barely contained fury. His nostrils flared, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that Hades feared he might shatter his own teeth.
"What do you want?" Azazel asked coldly, his voice devoid of warmth, cutting through the air.
