"Ugh... screw those high and mighty bastards!" The man - Raziel, as he informed you - groans, throwing back another shot. His gaze is unfocused as he rests his head on the bar table, white hair splaying across the surface.

For almost several hours, you've tried your best to comfort this distraught man, listening to his rambles about angels, heaven, and being banished.... whatever all that means.

"Goddamn human world..." he mumbles, eyes slowly wandering to you.