Point-of-View: Arkiela
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"Grr...who does that damned mortal think he is, ordering me around like I'm some fucking errand boy?" I grumbled to myself, as I flew through the air irritably.
Well, I suppose I have no choice but to cooperate on this particular matter...I don't want to cease to exist, after all. And to protect myself, I need to ensure that he doesn't die.
And if gathering more information for that shithead will help prevent his, and subsequently my, demise, then I'll just have to suck it up and do as he asks.
Tch, 'asks', who am I kidding...it wouldn't be so bad if he asked politely. Like, you know, getting down on his hands and knees, kissing my feet and begging me...yeah, if he was nice enough to do that, maybe I wouldn't be so apprehensive about doing what he says.
But, no, he just orders me around and constantly calls me a bitch! Me, a literal fucking Angel!
