Warnings: Spoilers up to Volume 14 of Angel Sanctuary. Major Spoiler's for Zaphikel's and Uriel's history. Suicidal themes and extreme depressivenes on Uriel's side.

Summary: Uriel and Zaphikel, talking, remembering. This takes place in Hades, before Alexiel was incarnated as Setsuna and before Jibrill's soul was sent to earth as Sara. I take it that Zaphikel killed Anael before Uriel cursed Alexiel, because when Zaphikel killed her, Sevothtarte had only just shown up and Layla had vanished shortly before, but when Uriel cursed the Messiah, it was Sefie who gave the order. So the curse must have happened nearly at the same time Anael was killed or later. The Angel Sanctuary timeline is confusing. Uriel is already wearing persona, but it's not controlling him fully yet. It's more of a character piece than anything else...

Awaiting

The descent to the realm of Hades is not impossible for living souls. That is, if Angels qualify as 'living'. In fact, I believe that we are neither dead nor alive. Not in the way Humans are. We're spiritual, holy entities, that although they can be extinguished practically exist forever. Each angel existed from the beginning of time. Or so we are told. But we can be born, from a woman's body or a machine's cold cavern. And we can die. But the path I'm taking, although it is to the realm of the dead, is not that of a dead man. Not just yet.

And the angel I am visiting today, he may be the angel of death, the ice- masked judge, but he's still alive. He is waiting, just like me, for the days of the final justice. The day we will pay for our sins and will make up to those we wronged. The day we will make those pay who wronged us.

I know Uriel for a very long time, and he has known me since I was young, and foolish, and a hunter of the innocent. He knew me since those days, when I fell in love, and when I loved, and when I lost my love.

And I have known him when he was still the highest judge of heaven, when he was justice without mercy and yet held a secret love for one who stood so bravely against the law. I saw his passion, his desire, his anger, his coldness. I saw Alexiel being cursed. I saw him break. I was there when he ripped out his vocal chords, so the words of damnation would never more resound neither in heaven nor hell. I saw a man who had killed his love, much worse, had damned her to eternal misery, and who wanted to die - just like me.

It was almost comical how much we were alike. To broken men. And so I took him to where he is now residing in the darkness, exiled among the dead.

I enter his looming castle and I face him. Would I be able to see him, it would strike me how we become more similar every day. Both of us are tall, with the longest dark hair, he unable to speak, I unable to see. Clad in black, silent. But still, things are different beneath the appearance. He is stone and ice while I am hidden cinders, he is hopeless while I am still fighting. And in the end he will forever be the better man, behind all this darkness innocent, innocent like angels are meant to be. He touches my arm, the slightest brush of gloved fingers on the thin fabric of my uniform, a faint welcome to a blind man.

I sit with him, in high-ceilinged rooms, on dark oak chairs at cold ebony tables. His eyes are hollow just like mine as his voice echoes inside my mind.

"Why are you still visiting me, Zaphikel," he asks me.

"Because you are my friend."

"Ah yes. Visiting the grave of a friend."

His words make me shudder inwardly. I'm surrounded by so much madness, above there, in heaven, and yet it still frightens me to watch the angels crumble and break, one after another. It's as if we are destined to become insane. I wonder I am already insane. Or if I'm cured. Or if ...

"How are the living?" he asks without much interest. I remember a time when his voice was as melodic as the wind brushing through summer leaves.

"Jibril is still speaking up to Sevothtarte, still the brave shining light of heaven. I fear she might be in great danger. Raphael is still the sinner he was, and Michael... is Michael. I hear rumours about hell, something about Lucifer...," even in this place, where there are no ears but his and mine, it feels bad to say his name.

"He is rumoured to be dead."

"He has not come to this place," is Uriel's monotone answer.

"So I thought. He is not going to die. They are all scattered everywhere in the realms of Heaven, Hell and Assiah, but the important pawns of god are not going to die until the very last day."

"Just like we are," he says, his hollow voice tinged with bitterness and a hint of the wrath of a man who could damn every soul before him.

I nod.

"Are you still wearing that mask?" Persona. His personal hell.

"I need it."

You don't, I want to tell him. But maybe it's not true. I wish I could cheer him up. I can cheer up a lot of people, an ability I have found I have.

"I found a child," I tell him, just to say something. "A child of Ion. He was in the laboratories, as a guinea-pig for those horrible scientists. I took him away. He's my pupil now. His name's Raziel."

"Raziel," he repeats. "A child of Ion."

Just when I have reached the point where even I can't say anything anymore, he makes a startling initiative.

"You're still alive, Zaphikel. You're still hoping, aren't you? For you, there's still something to live for. You're not like me. Not detached from everything... even if in the end it will all be good... what would there be for me to live for? Even if everybody will be happy... won't I still be alone? She'll never forgive me."

"You don't know that -"

"Anael will. Anael had forgiven you already, even before she died. But Alexiel? How could Alexiel forgive me? Alexiel didn't love even before I cursed her to eternal misery! Her hatred must be..."

"Are you sure? Alexiel knows how it feels to love someone who doesn't love you. I'm sure -"

"The only reason I'm staying alive... is that one day I hope she will come here. So she may take revenge on me as she pleases. To die at her hands.. is the last mercy I expect."

I'm almost happy I can't see his face as I hear his hard words inside me. He was once such a gentle man, so full of tender love for every creature of god. I know that my heart is corrupted - it was so from the start. But his...

"And that's it, Uriel? Will you stay in the shadows, waiting? Will you watch until the final days? Will you not try to change the final outcome? What is your live, your soul to the Messiah? It's nothing! Why would Alexiel want revenge on you? What Alexiel wanted and always will want, is a better world for all of us!"

The words flow, all my hopes and beliefs.

"The only thing you can do, I can do, we all can do, is to stand at her side when she will return! Then, and only then, when you have fought at her side with all you have to give, and when she has won, then you might ask for a judgement. Then you might ask for death at her hands."

"But..." his voice sounds brittle, rasping....

"But... she won't return..." almost breathless...

"She won't return! Alexiel will never return, NEVER!" screaming, so loud it throws me backwards, so suddenly and violently inside my mind that with every shriek it seems that my head explodes.

"Alexiel is cursed! I cursed her, FOREVER! She can't return! The Messiah can never return!"

Dimly, beside the earth-shattering shouting inside my head, I hear a chair clattering to the ground and stones crashing down around me. I cower on the floor, cursing my blindness. Uriel's fits of rage are legendary, he'll destroy everything around us.

"Uriel!" I shout, trying to make him listen. My voice is drowned in the noise of the utter destruction. Never! His voice still echoes inside me. Never!

And so I wait, because I know when to be silent. I have become so patient, these days. So subtle. Let them rage. Let them scream. Let them wreak havoc. But you will be silent and patient, and one day you will prevail.

After a long time it seems that the castle must be in ruins. Silence settles over us. Harsh, breathless gasps not to far from me tell me where he is. I get to my feet and walk over to him, careful, not to trip over anything that might be in my way. He's on his knees. I stand above him for a while, listening to his slowly calming breath, to choked sobs.

Then I kneel before him. I softly touch his strong shoulders, shaking with his grief and anger. No. With this man it is not anger. It is wrath. It is not grief, it's agony. I stay like this. I stroke some long strands of tangled hair on his back. I can't see them, but I feel their silk and waves. We're frail, we're insane, we're tragic. But we're beautiful.

"One day, we'll get our second chances," I tell him.

It's what I hope. It's what I'm living for. A second chance. And I get to my feet and leave him, down here, in the darkness, alone.