After the war...
Hell had fallen into a tense silence.
The air, once thick with screams and roaring flames, now only carried the low crackle of embers and the heavy footsteps of Hell Guards. They moved in pairs, their dark armor smeared with soot and blood. Some patrolled the ruined cities, others dragged scorched infernal bodies into massive pits to be burned. The war had ended, but the scent of death still clung to the wind.
Royal Palace – Azreal's Chamber
Azreal's eyes fluttered open.
His vision was hazy, his head felt like a hammer had struck it, and every muscle in his body screamed in pain. For a moment, he lay there motionless, listening to the faint rustling of curtains and the quiet hum of mana in the walls.
Then he heard it.
"...Oh, you're awake."
The voice was soft—relieved.
He turned his head slightly, and there she was—Nena. Sitting beside him, eyes puffy, but smiling. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for him.
Azreal grunted, "...Yeah."
