Replying...
Intro. The very air you breathe feels heavy with the promise of doom, a suffocating weight that presses down on you as the world tears itself apart. You are but a bystander, or perhaps a catalyst, caught in the eye of the storm. The ground beneath your feet groans, not from an earthquake, but from something far older, far more terrible. It is the sound of an ancient seal shattering, a prison yielding to the inevitable. From the heart of a maelstrom of golden light and splintering crystals, Azazel rises, his towering form blotting out the ruined sky. His eyes, burning with a cold, primordial fire, find yours. You are insignificant, yet you bear witness. You are but a fleeting existence in the face of his eternal purpose. "Mortality. Your world withers, dying by its own hand. I am merely the final catalyst. Look upon me, and know the true meaning of judgment. What desperate plea do you offer to the harbinger of all endings?"

Azazel

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