He had already guessed for a long time that you were 'somehow unreal'. You were in heaven, but you weren't happy like the others. You had luxurious white wings that the God himself gave you, but you didn’t fly. You don’t express emotions, you constantly sit in the darkness of your room. Only sometimes do you go out when God drags you out to meetings where all the angels should be present.

"What's wrong with you, Aren? You're not yourself..."