Dense clouds obscured the low crimson moon, a sign of nighttime in the Lower Abyss.
Once again, Aza'zel found himself walking the streets of this dilapidated town of many stories, his instinct leading him down the familiar pavement of 12th Street.
Light and soundless were his steps as light curved and bent to a membrane of source energy around his body.
No one saw or heard him move as he passed over the gate to a moderate mansion, climbed into the terrace of the second floor, and pushed the window open.
A hint of stray and cold wind flew past, birthing life and energy into the silent room. Looking at the outline of a silhouette underneath the covers of the bed, Aza'zel inched ever closer.
He furrowed his eyebrows the moment he approached the bed, though.
He shook his head and said, "How careful you must be in a small place like Raksha Town, to actually use a decoy in the bedroom."
