His otherworldly gaze fell upon Ken. “Finally,” He spoke.

Azrael smiled and opened his right fist. Ken followed his gestures in silence.

At first, nothing emerged but gathering shadows between his fingers. Then slowly, like oil seeping from a cracked bowl, a darkness spilled forth into his awaiting palm.

It stirred and writhed with a will of its own, a dark essence that seemed to drink in what dim light existed. Malice and malevolence poured off it in palpable waves.

Yet Azrael appeared unconcerned by the abomination he held. “This is yours,” He declared, offering his hand to Ken. “The way out.”

Finally, I can get out of limbo.

On to paradise.

Ken approached cautiously. Extending a trembling hand, Ken matched it to Azrael’s outstretched fist. The darkness pulsed eagerly against his skin, an alien force yearning to be claimed. With faint, indrawn breath, Ken closed his fingers firmly around the roiling mass.

At that moment, absolute darkness spread, engulfing everything in an instant.

Ken found himself alone, standing in endless, soundless blackness, staring into an abyss. Seconds passed, then minutes, hours, then days, yet the boy did not lose his mind.

This is not the paradise! It could not be. This is something else. His actions were highly illogical and unreasonable. Wait. Father always used to say that I always overthink things, but this time I will not. Well, who cares for now, whatever happens, happens. What matters is that I’ll soon leave to go to Paradise. Doesn’t matter when. Ken kept on telling himself.

He remained unmoving, unable to do anything but stare for what seemed an eternity. The darkness persisted until Ken felt the abyss stare back. And when it did, in the fathomless void he saw something.

In a flash, the endless darkness vanished.

Ken found himself back in the Underground’s clearing beneath the forest and Sawad. Agony lanced through his wounds once more, flesh parting as though blades had just kissed his flesh.

He gasped and shook his head once.

What just happened!

As his racing mind slowed, Ken realized he was no longer lost in the abyss. Gazing around in disbelief, he saw the forest clearing frozen just as he had left it.

He was back to that place which was frozen in a moment of time.

The trees remained calm in mid-sway, captured by some gloom enchantment. Not a whisper of wind stirred the canopy, and the nearby stream lay glassy and still.

Even the grass stood motionless, each blade clinging to the last moment before time’s pause. Throughout it all, an unnatural silence smothered the glade.

His would-be killer also stood trapped, features twisted in murderous intent. Strings of saliva hung suspended from bared fangs, a gruesome sculpture of violence.

Then Ken noticed Azrael leaning towards him, his resolute eyes fixed with cryptic meaning. It seemed only a heartbeat had passed for the angel, yet in that span, Ken had tasted eternity's endlessness.

“What did you see in the abyss?” Azrael instantly asked.

What’s going on! Wait! Let me think, the last thing I remember is Azrael saying, “Soon you will be, my little friend.” Then I was in that Darkness!

Ken shook his head once more.

Confused Ken responded, “I saw someone clad in white.”

“Who saw him? The you with the eyes, or the you inside your mind?”

Without hesitation, Ken answered, “Neither. It was I, the observer - the one beyond both.”

Azrael then grinned and cleared his throat as he stood straight. “Anyways, I have a proposition for you. I'll stop this stain over there from ripping you apart, and give you some gifts as a treat. But you have to do me a favor in return.”

Ken's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Azrael is acting strange! As the Angel of Death, he only appears before those about to die, collecting their souls. Yet he speaks of saving my life! Hell! Could he even do that! Would it not disrupt the natural order? Who cares about all that! I just want to pass on to the other life, I have had enough of this one. Still, I need more information, and I want this to be over quickly, and I don’t want to screw this up; so let’s not antagonize him for now.

“What kind of favor?” Ken asked, eagerly grinning.

“Straight to business, huh! I like that.” Azrael ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair. “For eons, angels didn't interfere in mortal affairs, unless ordered to. Yeah, well, that changed some time ago when a nasty bunch got curious and asked for free reign to meddle. I can’t believe their nerve, they did it just to have fun.” He said with passion. “Well, if they were just playing around I wouldn’t care much. But they chose to interfere with my work, which I don't like. Know what they did?” He asked playfully.

Ken just stared, blinking. “Huh?!”

Azrael slightly tilted his head right. “They designed games for mortals to play, getting a kick out of by watching. And as a reward for the winners, they gave what is mine to take. A life.”

“Wait - what games?! What Reward?!” Ken gasped eagerly.

“Simple,” Azrael said. “Each angel chooses a mortal champion to compete, then they pivot the champions against each other, and watch the outcome until one victor emerges and is granted immortality. They've done this nine times now - I can't ignore it anymore.”

Ken slightly tilted his head to the left. “So I'd be your champion next game?!”

“No,” Azrael replied. “I want to claim the souls of the nine immortal victors. I can't reap them, but a mortal could.”

After hearing that response, Ken was then stunned, confused, and angry.

I don’t want to tiptoe around him anymore. I don’t care about his problems.

“Sounds like you're just jealous they didn't invite you to play! Huh!” Ken mockingly said.

Azrael smiled. “Jealousy implies wanting what those morons have, and I don’t believe I do,” He said. “As for anger...sure, I've felt its sting. Perhaps it is what drives me right here and now. And perhaps not.”

“Then why?!” Ken wondered.

“If mortals seek immortality, that's their choice. The mortals will do what they will. As will the other angels and their games. As for I? I don’t have that luxury. I'll keep wandering my path till I take everything with me to the end of the line.”

That’s a roundabout way to say you always do what you desire.

“Answer me this then - why me?” Ken pressed.

Azrael flicked Ken's forehead with his long, pale right index finger adorned with a gleaming black ring. “Because I believe you can do this job right,” He smiled. “So, Ken Argorus, I need someone to hunt down and 'reap' those immortals for me. Interested?”