Zephariel gathers Yuri up – fainting and heaving in rough, heavy exhalation – in his safe embrace. He covers the boy with his long-tailed coat and an old fur blanket wrapped around the back of a dining chair. Patting the boy's back to soothe his agony, Zephariel casts a sharp glance toward the not-much-better Yoru, who's lowering his head, crying, his shoulders trembling vigorously from the force of memory and the shame of the past crimes he had longed to forget.
It was vanity to think that his mere calculation could surpass the Chosen One. The Supreme Deity that was born from Mother Genesis's wish to reset the world. History repeats itself; sometimes for the better, most of the time, it is even worse than the first incident. And Mother Genesis, when the latter case happens, simply shakes her head with sorrow, then releases her golden child to bring destruction with the hope of a brave new world.
