In the nebulous void of his mind, Azrael found himself in a surreal landscape, a realm defined by the chaos of his emotions. The echoes of the ongoing celestial battle reverberated faintly, distant and muffled. He stood alone in the midst of the emptiness, surrounded by shadows that danced and whispered, reflecting the turmoil within him.
"Where am I?" Azrael questioned the ethereal surroundings, his voice lost in the vast expanse of his subconscious. The emptiness seemed to stretch endlessly, devoid of any landmarks or points of reference.
"Am I speaking to myself?" The query lingered in the air, bouncing off unseen walls. The disembodied nature of his voice gave an eerie quality to the internal dialogue, as if the very fabric of his thoughts was responding to him.
