Time flew by as a bustled week passed in a blur. No sight of any intruders was reported to Azrail as he remained cooped up in his office, checking off names diligently with intermittent visits to the dead—in either the Avalon realm or the Aikat realm—to examine how efficiently either realm was operating. Of course, during these occasional visits, nothing of concern arose with only the uncommon instances of a soul struggling to escape in the Aikat realm, but that would be promptly handled without the need of an afterthought by the Goemon, who would help with the incarceration for the judged souls who were classified 'unworthy'.

Since no undesirable visitors were apprehended or discovered during the seven-day period, all the arisen guards were directly sent back to their graves as promised, leaving the once unsettled castle to once again be a place of solitude and silence. To say that Azrail enjoyed their presence would be a lie, for he very much scorned it whenever he would look outside, craving to take in the tranquil view of the forest only to observe as hundreds of guards marched around with gleaming armor and thumping weapons on their sides. In his opinion, their prominent presence spoiled the hushed forest that he so cherished and adored.

Given the seven days had passed, not only did the withdrawal of all the guards mark that day as a special occasion, but also the fact that he had to once again go back in contact with the God of Life himself.

Wrapping the report in half (Y/n) ranked it on top of the lofty golden pin that held all the other statements and signatures that he had to work with for the previous few hours; which, in the beginning, he would have never thought he could finish in such a short amount of time. Shoving away the inkwell (Y/n) lounged his head on the tip of the chair, his eyes meeting the ceiling as he examined the shifting galaxies with trivial awe. Never as a human would he have considered such a sight to become attainable; yet here he was as the God of Death, gawking at the universe itself as if it was nothing but a long-ago composed portrait. If he had to admit, he found this curious, being a god. All he wished was for the ultimate release of death—and so he became death. What a silly tale.

Gentle knocking disrupted his thoughts with who being behind the door was the recognizable spirit of Kallias which could be discerned from the other side, presumably carrying some more critical papers that needed to be confirmed, Azrail thought. "Come in." Hearing one door open silently, faint footsteps of Kallias moved closer to his desk, pausing soon after. "Urgent letter from the God of Life, my god." Grumbling in frustration, Azrail raised his head and stared down at the glorious envelope with apathetic eyes. Grabbing the envelope from Kallias' hand, Azrail snapped the seal and plucked out the white-colored paper, reading its writing thoroughly without his expression changing even for a second.

Just as he thought, all that this 'urgent message' was about was just about him following their weekly session to review the livings life and death situations. And frankly, this would be the worst part of his Earth week. Calmly rising from where he sat (Y/n) shuffled around Kallas as he pursued far behind, maintaining their distance as it was improper to remain too close to someone of his god's caliper. Sauntering out of the Passing Room, Azrail entered his room, ambling back towards his bed as he dropped back-first, unwinding his strained muscles.

Catching his god's euphoric image Kallias said—whilst still bowing: "Would you like for me to arrange for you a bath, my god?" Putting some consideration to his question Azrail hummed in thought before nodding his head, a minor grin on his face that spoke, "take your time" to an unusual significance. Bowing his head one last time, Azrail waved his hand, authorizing for Kallias to withdraw as he did so soon after, closing the double doors behind him.

Now in complete seclusion, Azrail caressed his hand through his hair, the feeling of its velvety texture softening him as he let out a deep, long sigh. He despised his palace more than anything in the world. It was so imposing, so enormous—room after room, all of them; desolate. What good was having an entire world to yourself if you had no one to share it with? Well, Kallias was there, but he was so stubborn to still respect him accordingly that Azrail predicted it would take an eon before Kallias could ultimately crackdown and comply. So for now, it was just him and that boundless world crammed with endless halls, with vast windows and spacious rooms. It was like this place was explicitly made, for then it could mentally impoverish the residents that were living inside instantly. Azrail wasn't certain why this world thought that such a construction would be appropriate for him, but as of right now, changing it would mean that he yielded to his former self, who detested loneliness and spacious places.

If he wished to grow, Azrail thought that the better route would be to trudge on, disregarding every deficiency that he saw in his castle without so much as an afterthought. Yet as the days go by gradually, Azrail discovered it was troublesome to do so. Whenever he would dine alone in the dining room to savor the world he left behind the noise of food being trampled would resound throughout the spacious hall, which calmly pushed him to hysteria. Day in and day out, nothing but himself and Kallias—but that wasn't enough. For the insufficient appropriate human contact he had got in his human life, it made him fancy someone to be by his side who he could speak to, and to assume that he would spend another day alone would be-

Wait. Wasn't he to meet the God of Life today?

Bolting up from his bed a startling outpouring of motivation affected his thoughts as he speedily scrambled to the door and thrust open the wooden doors, startling Kallias who was about to open them as a burst of wind propelled him back with the strange image that he saw of his god before he took off now.

"My god...?"

Now out of the washroom, Azrail stood outside of the deserted castle, his staff on one hand with Kallias staying closer to him, both of them ready to disappear from his domain and onto the Earth. Glancing down at the marginally smaller male, Azrail asked: "You ready?" Watching Kallias nod his head in response, Azrail turned his head back to the front as he thumbed the end of his staff on the ground; soon the exquisite scenery was out of view and was instead replaced with distinct streaks of light before it was again replaced with the view of the glowing orb that humans preferred to call—Earth.

Gaping down at the majestic view, Azrail looked closer as he saw a family stationed inside of a hut, preparing food as one child barged inside with clay all over his body and a dopey smile on his youthful face. The father—who was cooking at the time—turned around and grimaced at the sight only to sigh as he stepped over to his son and pulled him up, carrying him to the tube as he simply chided his son by informing him what he did was clumsy whilst giving him a bucket of water to bathe himself.

"Pathetic, isn't it?" Startled, Azrail turned his head to the side only to see the arrived God of Life in all his grandeur—but with no doves or trumpeters to indicate his arrival. Glancing away from him, Azrail attempted to go back to examining the scenery, only to frown as a cough was heard behind him. "I said, "pathetic, isn't it"?" Leaning away from the world Azrail turned his body halfway through as he blankly stared at him. "I'm afraid I am not exactly positive about what you are referring to." Hearing this reply, the God of Life tsked mockingly as he addressed the still Azrail with long strides, his expression overbearing as the glowing orb continued to follow behind him.

"I mean, look—" Pointing back to the sight that Azrail was inspecting, the God of Life chuckled in enjoyment. "—a disgraceful son who doesn't even know how to properly take care of himself still holds on to that childlike conviction that they will forever stay lovingly negligent of life for the rest of his days. What more of a satisfactory characterization of a mistake can he be? I think the child was never even accordingly educated in the arts before. How unfortunate." Now watching as the son was already attired in freshly cleaned clothes, the father and son duo escorted out of the washroom and back into the kitchen as the both of them assembled dinner.

"Now, the term "peasant" isn't something frequently used anymore, but in such situations like this one, such term would be applicable, wouldn't you agree?" The God of Life whispered this over his shoulder with a boastful tone, further provoking the agitated god. "I don't think I agree with anything that you are spewing at me. Yet we haven't come here to judge other's financial outcomes, but to resolve the situation that the humans are facing life and death wise." Stepping away from the towering male Azrail stared at him dead in the eyes, holding it. "So tell me; how many infants have been brought into this world beast and human alike?" Looking away from the father and son scene, the God of Life returned his stare as he claimed: "Fifty thousand were born the other day as we presently have two-hundred fifty-two and counting who are currently existing this past month." Nodding his head in understanding, Azrail formed a chair as he sat on it, leaving the God of Life to stand instead.

"Those are typical numbers. But for me, I currently have had eight hundred thousand, ninety-eight who had perished in this week alone. The most common cause: the Thermes Virus. In recent years, suicide has reached an all-time high. The third is substance abuse gone terrible. I am certain to say that the annihilation of humanity is closer than we had formerly thought; and since you, the God of Life, prefer to do nothing to forbid it, then that is all I have to disclose with you today. Now, goodbye." Promptly turning away from the God of Life, Azrail hastened towards the other end from where he came from as he braced himself to strike the end of his staff on the ground only for the abrupt shout of his name to interrupt him in his tracks.

"Wait, God of Death. I have a proposition for you, and I expect you might be pleased when you hear it." Peering over at the serious god Azrail casually put down his staff, but made no thoughts as to go towards him. "What proposition?" Asking him this with a deadpanned gaze, the God of Life picked out a piece of paper as he glided it over to him. Seizing the paper tenderly, Azrail looked down only for his golden eyes to expand at the words that he saw in the very first sentence.

"You..." Glancing up at the serious God of Life with an astonished face, Azrail continued. "... you wish to bestow the humans a Golden Child?" Nodding his head decisively the God of Life stated: "After what you have said a few months ago turned back to my thoughts whilst I was tending to the unborn souls, I thought it over and concluded that as the God of Life I have a particular obligation for maintaining the humans and beasts alive. And since I don't wish to tarnish my name with more deaths that aren't of my own with the insufficient time that I have been in charge of the living, I decided I would assign a Golden Child to be born upon the Earth—in one condition." Slightly deflating upon receiving his last statement, Azrail could only shrug his shoulders mentally, already have thought that he wouldn't condone a Golden Child to the humans so simply without some conditions assigned to them.

"Go on."

"One: You will stop delivering me reports on the dead and instead deliver them to me directly at every meeting until our positions as gods are exhausted. Two: You will provide for me an entire day prior to our meetings, of which I shall lecture you about the ways of governing the Avalon and Aikat realms. Three: You will lift my prohibition on ever treading foot on your domain ever again, affective immediately." Lifting three fingers in the air, the God of Life gave Azrail a quill of which he took it gratefully. "Consider all of your demands met. However, I have one request."

"And what is that?"

"For me to know your name." After Azrail proclaimed his wish, the God of Life became hushed only for an exasperated sigh to come out of his sumptuous lips soon after. "It's Artemio Ercan. Is that all?" Pleased, Azrail nodded his head and swiftly signed the contract as the paper and quill disappeared soon after.

Raising his staff high, Azrail gave Artemio one last look in gratitude. "Thank you, Artemio." With a thundering strike, he was gone. 

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ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ!

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