Suddenly, he found himself transported to a familiar scene from the past. The alley where his younger self confronted the murderer.

Screams pierced the air, with the sound of footsteps echoing off the walls of the narrow passage. With a heavy heart, he followed the sound, drawn inexorably toward the source of the commotion.

There, in the dim light cast by a flickering street lamp, he saw him – his younger self, standing face to face with the man who had torn his family apart. Anger and determination burned in his eyes as he raised the weapon in his hand, ready to deliver justice for the unspeakable crime that had been committed.

But as he watched the scene unfold, a sense of déjà vu washed over him, as though he had lived this moment before. And then it happened – the decisive moment when my younger self struck down the man who had brought so much pain and suffering into our lives.

A rush of memories flooded him, the emotions of that fateful night crashing over him like a tidal wave. He was scared all over again.

Azazel jolted awake from the nightmare, his heart pounding in his chest and sweat drenching his body. As he lifted trembling hands to his face, he watched in horror as small black and red dots began to materialise on his skin, pulsating with an otherworldly energy.

The dots seemed to dance and swirl with a life of their own. Azazel's breath caught in his throat as he realised that these were no ordinary marks—they were his powers, symbols of the darkness that lurked within him.

Fear clenched at his heart as he struggled to control this energy coursing through his veins. He knew that he had to keep his abilities hidden, or they would bring destruction upon those he cared about. 

“Azazel.” Kreo slowly opened the hospital door. “Are you awake yet-” 

The hospital bed was empty. Kreo dropped his things before running to the nurses and running outside trying to look for him. 

The nurses had found Azazel walking out of the hospital before running away outside. The nurses couldn't believe that he could run at that state. 

Kreo called his parents, as he drove out of the hospital. 

—

[Kreo's POV]

“Son?” My mum asked through the phone. 

“Mum, have you seen Azazel?” I asked with worry. 

“No! Why? What happened?” She asked, knowing the shiver in my voice. 

“He's missing!” I answered. “He ran away from the hospital.” 

“Oh no…” She said, “Why were you both in the hospital, are you injured?” 

“No, I'm-” I couldn't hide this secret from my mum anymore, it was her dream to be a grandma. “I found my powers and Azazel just had your grandchildren but he ran away!.” 

She didn't reply but I could hear talk to dad about something. I ended the call as I reached his apartment, I knocked on the door before waiting for any answer. There was no answer, I used the keys Azazel gave me to open the door but when I went in, everything was still there. 

I looked around, everything was still the same as it was before. I couldn't understand, where could he have gone?

I went home, trying to think of any places we could go. I tried contacting him, calling him but it all never went through. 

Suddenly, a message popped up. It was from the group Sarah had made, everyone was back in Tenawyuv. I messaged them about Azazel being missing and everyone started to worry. They asked many questions but I only answered a few. Some tried to contact Azazel but it never went through as well. 

The daycare wasn't going to open for a week too because of a holiday. I felt hopeless at that point. 

Why did he run away? Was everything he told me for the past months a lie? Was anything real right now?

As the days passed without any sign of Azazel, my worry grew into full-blown panic. I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt gnawing at my insides—I should have been there for him, I should have protected him. But now he was gone, and I had no idea where to even begin looking.

I tried retracing our steps, visiting places we had been together in the hope of finding some clue to his whereabouts. But everywhere I went, I found only echoes of his absence, haunting reminders of the life we had shared.

I returned home each night to an empty house, the weight of Azazel's absence pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat—I was consumed by the fear that I had lost him forever.

Desperate for answers, I reached out to our friends, hoping that they might have some insight into Azazel's disappearance. But each lead turned out to be a dead end, leaving me feeling more helpless than ever.

With each passing day, the sense of dread that had settled over me only intensified. I couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had happened to Azazel, and that I was powerless to stop it.