Pain throbbed behind his coverts, a large arrow of impurity piercing the muscle of his wing, keeping Albedo on his knees grasping at the base of the arrow where it pierced his wing and contemplated whether or not he should tear it out. He hissed in pain after giving it an experimental tug, immediately giving up on that plan. The archangel needed to get out off here. Hell was not the place for a being of purity, if not for the demons and sinners, then for the corruption that ravaged the land.