The steel door slowly opened as a wintry gust of wind smoothly passed by Azrail, disheveling his loose hair. Coolly peering down at his finger, Azrail's eyes swelled as he discovered that the formed key was no longer there, and all that was left was his whole pointer finger. Reexamining his finger in disbelief, Azrail squeezed his flesh closely, only to feel bone and not the form of a key. Feeling another burst of air, Azrail was reminded of why he came there as he now looked down at the twisted staircase that lead down to nothing but complete blackness. Peeking over his shoulder one last time, Azrail looked back at his journey ahead before stepping inside as he escalated down the wobbly staircase.

Once he arrived at the fifth step, a loud 'bang' was heard, making him jerk his head toward where the strident crash came from, only to sob in his heart once seeing the closed door locked securely. Not yearning to postpone any further, Azrail advanced on with his journey as he had no difficulty ascending the spiraling stairwell. Gliding his finger against the chilly gravel walls, Azrail whistled a light tune in order to pass the time, already finding it troublesome to watch his step. And from negligence does mishap befall.

Yelping in shock as his foot did a misstep, Azrail promptly recovered his footing, an elated grin soon stretching across his face once he comprehended he hadn't fallen-

Before he could celebrate his minor triumph, Azrail's foot was caught against the edges of his cape, making him plunge head-first as he tumbled down the long, curling staircases without halting. Even though he could no longer feel discomfort, it wasn't the suffering that was eating at him, but that he didn't learn from his first mistake and had celebrated too soon. Feeling his body bump numerous times with the firm steps, Azrail felt a tad awkward, but when the thought of contributing what he thought an hour just going down the stairs passed over his mind did he understand that maybe him falling wasn't the worst thing.

Exhaling in soreness once his body ultimately crashed against another object Azrail hurriedly got up and pulled his staff along with him as he patted off any dust that could have attached themselves to his wardrobes or body—which there was no dust nor dirt, recognitions to the advantage of being all-powerful. Delivering a subdued glare towards the jagged staircases, Azrail went back to inspect the new door that had popped up before his path. This one had the emblem of death incrusted on its steel surface as it burned wistfully, with circles strewed around it with insufficient light to make them shine for even a second.

Touching the lifeless willow tree Azrail gradually withdrew his hand back as the door creaked open enough for Azrail to see the silhouette of a shelf in the far corner and the shape of what looked like a candle which rose on top of a miniature table with nothing else around it. Nudging the door lightly, Azrail crossed through and surveyed the enigmatic surrounding that he found himself in, astounded by how deafeningly quiet it was. There were dozens of shelves, both high and low as they either hovered or rested on the ground—yet there were bare. As Azrail floated up to each shelf, he discovered that none of them accommodated even the poorest speck of dirt—there was nothing to even say on how long it has been down there for. Everything looked as if it has been recently been cleaned throughly.

Stepping away from the last shelf, Azrail turned his body around to face the sole unlit candle, assuming that it had something to do with there being nothing on any of the shelves. He has seen many eventful things during his stay in the World of Gods, so the probability of a candle being enchanted wasn't something unbelievable. Stepping up to the candle, Azrail produced a flame with his staff as he neared it to the candle, excitedly awaiting it to catch on fire. Withdrawing his staff as he saw a light gleam, he promptly closed his eyes once a pleasant light flared, messing up with his vision that had barely gotten used to the complete darkness.

Slowly taking back his hand away from his eyes, Azrail blinked his troubled eyes briskly as his eyelashes patted against each other, his gaze concentrating on the new scenario around him. Shelves floating on top of one another were shown with the dominant light the candle gave as they were stockpiled with what looked like newly printed pages, as each of them had a date imprinted on each spine. The icy floor was now replaced with the comfortable feeling of heated marshmallows as every step that Azrail took to each book felt like he was bouncing on sponge cake. Reading the title of one book, he plucked out against the rest of Azrail, skimmed through its pages only to chuckle in amusement.

Evidently, the ex-god of death had a fascination for literature.

Some of them could clearly be identified as a creation of the ex God of Death, yet some of them presented names such as the Gospel of Judas and the Diamond Citra which were well-preserved and precise to read as it instantly altered to Azrail's new assigned language—the Language of the Gods. Flipping through a book titled "The Epic of Gilgamesh" Azrail let out a quiet hum in interest before placing back the book, unfazed by its context.

I thought this would be a delightful find, but it turns out to just reflect the solitude of being a god.

Going down to take in the unified sight, Azrail breathed in the fresh scent of paper as he closed his eyes, content by the rippling silence—wait, rippling? Quickly turning his head to the side, Azrail's eyes glimmered with authority as his grip on his staff was tight. Browsing the area for any movements, Azrail didn't let go of his suspicions even after ten minutes had passed. Finding there no use to ask, Azrail instead banged his staff upon the ground, causing an earthquake which soon caused a figure to slip from a shelf; but before Azrail could apprehend the trespasser, the intruder eluded his movements as the figure swiftly headed towards a shelf.

As he was about to sprint after the figure, Azrail ran to where the infiltrator had last been seen, only to see nothing but thin air as the intruder was soon gone from his senses, leaving him behind in the hushed library. Striking his staff down in exasperation, another earthquake was transmitted across the building, but thankfully none of the books fell down. Once the thought of overlooking the circumstance crossed his mind, Azrail quickly swung his head as frown appeared on his pierced lips. He had to at least try to track the intruder down.

Perceiving that he couldn't squander his time trying to find a secret passage that was undoubtedly not there, Azrail ran towards the open entrance door and floated up the stairs speedily which made him question himself on why he didn't think of using his capabilities earlier; yet at the moment none of that mattered as he now made it to the outside world, the door to the secret library closing shut behind him. Struggling to sense where the intruder could have headed using trace retraction—via the aid of his staff—Azrail sighed as nothing came up. With the half quarter moon still glowing lovingly up at the dazzling sky, Azrail looked back to where the entrance was and walked there while thinking about speaking to Birth Mother once he had a chance-No! How could he do such a thing? He wished to look and be an independent and qualified God of Death, so asking Birth Mother for something that followed in his own domain—in his own watch—would be beyond disgraceful!

Though, what was he to do? As of the moment Azrail was shaky from how to entirely control his abilities as the God of Death and as well as unaware of the things he could do in that position. Of course he was well educated of the things that were obvious, like being able to adjust their domain to their liking and control their servants to their desire—but there were just some things that an experienced god would only know during their time in such a serious position. Well, if he didn't know what to do, then the best thing he could think of at that moment would be to assign a search party for any creeping infiltrator in his domain. No one could enter without his endorsement, so they also couldn't leave without it.

"Kallias!" Turning up in front of Azrail without a second to pass Kallias profoundly bowed in front of him, his expression peaceful and his voice sharp as he inquired: "Yes, my god?" Motioning for Kallias to follow him, Kallias obeyed as Azrail led him to one of the open walls that revealed the night sky and the entirety of his land as endless tress were dispersed throughout the land, shining with an eatheral light that could only be found in such a death trap.

"You see all of this land? This land, of which is mine?"

"Yes, Kallias sees Kallias' gods land."

"I oversee everything here—but something had slithered through my fingers, penetrating my lands. Find anyone who isn't recognized here and bring them to me—preferably alive." Not asking questions at his gods' challenging demand, Kallias soon disappeared as he spends the past two hours tracking through every inch of Azrail's domain, leaving no rock unturned. Sadly, this search proved unsuccessful as Kallias found there no one or thing that was unsolicited. With these distasteful news Kallias told of his nonexistent finds which confused Azrail.

"Kallias."

"Yes, my god."

"I give you permission to create two thousand guards to watch over my domain. Let a hundred of them patrol around the inside of my castle. Anything that they detect unusual should be reported straight to you, and them to me. Let them all live until seven Earth days have passed, understood?" Noticing there was no deficiency in his demand, Kallias nodded resolutely as his bow deepened.

"Kallias understands, my god."

With these orders Azrail watched as Kallas disappeared from his sight, and not long after did he felt the deads souls rise from the ground and guard over his domain. Drifting hurriedly back to the secluded building Azrail placed several spells that he received from his lessons that Birth Mother gave him as he made them as thoroughly as he could, securing the building to where only he could enter leaving no room for either the wind or air to enter along with him.

Now laying restlessly on top of his cloud bed Azrail's smoldering golden eyes were focused on the ceiling as he pondered over the fundamental thought that could shake him to the point of panicking: Who was stronger than him they could infiltrate his domain without his attention?

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ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ!

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