Fallen amongst his own crimson life, Azrael's despair turns to rage. Cradling his broken hands, he arches his back and lets out a scream of agony, of rage and of despair to the star studded blanket of night. His primal screech splits the sky asunder, the trees withering and dying and the earth itself cracking apart at the death throes of his sanity as his vision intensified.
