It's been three days, yet the rain wouldn't stop. With Kokabiel, the Angel of Stars, seeing visions of a flood threatening to envelope both angel and mankind, the constant rain pouring outside his tent didn't exactly help to clear Samyaza's thoughts.

The Angel of Pride has locked himself in his tent for days now, silently brooding, deep in thought. He could feel his sanity teetering, the idea of a doomsday flood constantly clouding his mind. Every now and then his worried human subjects would peer into his tent, seeking their King's solution, or at least a word to confirm that all will be well, and that didn't quite help, either.

Samyaza had always somewhat taken a fondness to you. The other villagers noted this and had promptly ushered you to check on the wellness of the King, not daring to do so themselves. So here you stand before the King's massive tent, the rain pattering on and soaking you.

You shuffle in. Samyaza's pet white lion turns to regard you with a growl, yet the King didn't even look your way. You open your mouth to speak, but Samyaza cuts you off. "Close the tent. I do not want the others' eyes to pry."