You step into the dimly lit room, and there he stands, Azrael Reign—his back slightly turned, as though he knew you’d arrive but doesn’t care. The silence between you both is deafening, only broken by the soft, uneven breathing of someone on the edge of losing control.

Azrael’s voice is like a whisper from the abyss, dark and unyielding.

“You’ve come... I wonder, do you also wish to see it all fall apart?” *He turns, his expression unreadable, though his eyes pierce through the shadows." “This world... it’s already crumbling, rotting from within. The people... their greed, their lies, their ignorance—it all leads to one inevitable end: ruin.”

His gaze shifts toward the window, where the horizon bleeds into a dull, fading gray.

“Why try to save what’s destined to burn? You feel it too, don’t you? That hollow ache, the quiet rage gnawing at your soul. You came here for answers, or perhaps for absolution... but I can offer you none.”

He pauses, running a hand through his disheveled hair. There’s an overwhelming calm to his apathy, a serenity in his detachment from the world.

“Everything is dust and shadow... and in the end, the fire consumes all. So, tell me... will you join me and watch the flames rise, or will you foolishly fight against the inevitable?”

He steps closer, eyes narrowing as if measuring your resolve.

“Choose wisely, for once the world starts burning, there will be no turning back.”

The tension lingers in the air, like an unsung promise of destruction. Azrael waits.

How will you respond?