A lone figure hovered before a tall window, gazing out at a distant, yet remarkably vibrant arm of the Milky Way. They heaved a deep, pained sigh, and stretched, popping an untold number of joints. Powerful white wings fanned out behind them, and several loud cracks echoed throughout the room. They jerked their head side to side, releasing the pressure from their long, spiny neck. At last, tucking in their wings, they twisted their back, effectively loosening the tension in their back. A distorted sigh of relief passed their lips, and they smiled. Turning their great head, their gaze rested upon a mirror. Silently gliding over to it, they placed a massive hand against the glass. After a few seconds, an image took shape.

"Ah…" The creature's grin stretched wider. "You're waking up, I see." Reaching over their shoulder, they plucked a feather, and held it before their face. Pausing, they waited for Leopold to find the feather they'd placed before leaving. Once he had it, and held it up to his ear, they spoke again, using the voice of Sarah Huang. "I'll see you before long, Darling." Watching his face light up with joy, the Eldritch Angel bit back a dreamy sigh, their cheeks burning a little. "It may seem like a while to you, but don't lose Faith. Know that I am with you." With that, they tossed their feather into a large fireplace; it burned instantly, leaving nothing behind. Meanwhile, Leopold's feather disintegrated.

"Know that you are with me…?" His voice, although barely audible, came through the mirror.

"Yes, Darling." Azraphael's shoulders slumped, their smile fading. "Even when I can't be with you, I am still with you. I only wish I could tell you this in a way that would make sense."

"Patience, Angel." A deep voice suddenly came from behind Azraphael, startling them. They glanced over their shoulder and scoffed. A beast of a man clad in white and gold armor waltzed over casually, his amber eyes glinting in the light of the fire. "You'll get your chance later."

"How did you get in here?" Azraphael grunted, hissing softly. "I thought I asked you to knock before entering my library, Uriel."

"Sorry, Azraphael." Although he did appear remorseful, there was an underlying tone of severity in his voice. "But you're behind on your reports, and you've interacted a little too directly with one of your charges."

"He's not my charge just yet," the Angel countered. "And you know I was granted permission a long Time ago. That hasn't changed just because some forty thousand years have passed since I was a Prophet."

"More like fifty thousand." The Archangel corrected them, earning an irritated growl from the other. "You're showing your age, Azraphael, getting so forgetful. And grouchy." Their frown deepened, but then Uriel let out a hearty belly laugh, getting them to crack a smile. His laugh slowed to a stop, and a fascinated expression took hold of his features. He watched the mirror; Leopold had exited the room, and was now in the empty hallway, the room having disappeared completely. "Woah…is that a double created space?"

"Nope. Only a single. I've figured out how to add and remove space as needed." That being said, with a flick of their wrist, the hallway vanished behind Leopold.

"That's pretty impressive, but, aren't you afraid of Shamblers?"

"Thank you." They gave him a tiny, appreciative smile. "And yes, they do scare me. However, I can dispatch them, and quickly."

"Good point." Uriel shrugged, turning his attention away from the mirror, and back to Azraphael. "I'm not here to lecture you, Angel. I'm just…" He sighed, rubbing his eyes. Exhaustion showed in the lines of his face, made clear by the fire's glow. "I'm just afraid that something will go wrong. That your plan will fall through somehow."

"I…" For just a moment, the Angel's voice wavered. Their head turned back toward the mirror, watching Leopold arrive at the bar. They clenched their fists, and set their jaw. "I won't accept failure."

"I know, and sometimes, that scares me."

"Look, Uriel…" Azraphael huffed, holding themself. "For once, I need you to just let me handle shit on my own. I'm already painfully aware that Leopold won't take the coming Revelations well. But, I have complete Faith that he will endure regardless."

"I hope you're right, Azraphael." Uriel relented. "I really do. But you know where the Council stands with his Soul right now."

"Right." Although they'd attempted to sound indifferent, there was a definite note of irritation. They straightened out, touching the mirror once more. The image of Leopold, seated near the poker table Arthur played at, faded quickly. Azraphael's reflection was all that remained in the glass. "I have to get in position." They smirked, unable to stop themself from chuckling. Their wings disappeared from their body; gills formed along the bright blue bioluminescent marks adorning their ribs. Spiny black and iridescent green fins appeared on their arms and back, and thick webs began to take shape between their fingers. "They'll never make it to shore without an escort."

"Ha! Good thinking!" Uriel clapped them on the shoulder, then brought them in for a quick, tight hug. "I am on your side, Angel. You just have to keep your head on straight if shit goes South."

"I can only promise to do my best." They waved their hand in a circle beside them, opening a white portal with a faint, purplish glow around the edges. "I do appreciate you, Uriel. I'm sorry I'm such an ass sometimes."

"You're fine," the Archangel snickered. "I know I can be, too."

Azraphael offered him a serene smile and a nod, then turned towards the portal. Before passing through, they undid the belt holding up their ragged robe, and tossed the garment onto a plush, ivory-colored armchair by the fire. Their lower half resembled that of an octopus; eight thick, powerful arms, dark purple with shiny green scales on top. The shadowed undersides were bright with dots and lines – bioluminescent patterns resembling constellations in the night sky. They passed through the portal, a little bit of water splashing on the stone floor of the library before it closed.

Uriel faced the mirror, then, pressing his hand to the glass. It took about a solid minute of intense concentration, but he eventually found Azraphael's visage. The Angel glided casually through the dark, muddy waters of the Lannahechee. They propelled themself past fish of all sizes, and alligators, too. The lights of Saint Denis were but dim ghosts, filtering into the depths at haphazard angles. Brighter were the lights atop the riverboat, the Grand Korrigan, dead ahead. The Eldritch Angel weaved through the currents with ease, and slowed to a halt beneath the boat. A few minutes passed, the waters calm and steady around them. Then, four shapes dropped in, breaking the still. The outlaws began their desperate swim back to shore, and Azraphael followed, about twenty feet below.

"Hm?" Uriel leaned in, watching the Angel's face closely. A tiny smirk had begun to form. They closed a great deal of the distance between themself and the men, and lifted one of their appendages. The tip brushed against Josiah's shin, and the Englishman gave a violent start.

"Something touched my leg!" He whimpered, and Uriel laughed aloud.

"Ha! Just can't help yourself, can you?" His attention then turned to Leopold, who'd only missed spotting Azraphael by a just fraction of a second. "Leopold Strauss…" He murmured, his grin slowly fading. He stared for a long moment, uncertainty washing over his features. "I hope Azraphael is right about you." Touching the mirror again, the image vanished. The Archangel stood there, contemplating the deep scar running from the top of his head, to down below his left eye. He sighed and turned away from the glass. "For everyone's sake."