**Scene Shift: Dungeon Interrogation Room**
The cold, dimly lit dungeon held a suffocating air of tension. **Zadkiel** sat, shackled and chained from head to toe, his body still bearing the burn marks and wounds from the battle with **Alexander**. His eyes, once fierce and proud, now held a dull, defiant gaze as he stared at the floor.
**Commander Cooper** and **Alexander** stood before him, frustration brewing in their expressions. Zadkiel remained silent, his lips sealed despite their best attempts at interrogation. The burns across his chest pulsed painfully, but he refused to show any signs of weakness.
**Alexander**, his patience worn thin, clenched his fist, black flames flickering briefly around his arm before he forced himself to calm down.
**Commander Cooper**: "This is pointless. He's not going to talk." He turned to **Alexander**, shaking his head. "We're wasting our time here."
With a final frustrated glance at Zadkiel, **Alexander** nodded in agreement. "We're done here." His voice was low and controlled, but the anger was evident.
As they turned to leave, **Eve** stepped forward, her gaze locked onto Zadkiel.
**Eve**: "I'm staying. I still have questions for him."
Both **Commander Cooper** and **Alexander** looked at her, puzzled.
**Commander Cooper**: "Are you sure? After everything—"
**Eve** cut him off with a firm nod. "Yes, I need to talk to him. Alone."
Though neither of them understood what she was planning, they trusted her enough to leave. With a final look of caution, **Alexander** and **Commander Cooper** walked out of the dungeon, leaving **Eve** and **Zadkiel** alone.
The silence in the room was heavy as Eve approached Zadkiel. She didn't start with accusations or anger. Instead, her voice was soft, almost wistful, as she spoke.
**Eve**: "Do you remember the old days, Zadkiel? Back when we lived in Paradise? We were children then, playing tag in the fields, laughing together with our brothers and sisters."
Zadkiel's expression remained unchanged, his eyes fixed forward as if her words meant nothing to him.
**Eve**: "You, me, and the others... Father would make that awful breakfast—he was never a good cook. We used to laugh about it and take turns cooking meals just to avoid his kitchen disasters. Do you remember that?"
For a moment, it seemed like **Zadkiel** might respond. A flicker of recognition passed through his eyes, but it was quickly buried beneath the mask of indifference he had worn since the battle.
**Eve** continued, her voice growing more solemn. "We trained together. We fought side by side. We were family once. But look at where we are now—"
Suddenly, **Zadkiel** cut her off, his voice cold and detached. "Get to the point, Eve. What is it you want from me?"
His sharp tone hung in the air between them. The nostalgia, the memories, none of it seemed to move him. His mind was hardened by years of war and betrayal.
**Eve** didn't flinch. She remained standing in front of him, her expression unwavering. There was something deeper behind her eyes, something she hadn't shared yet.
The room was thick with unresolved tension, and the air between the former siblings was heavy with unspoken truths.
**Eve**: "What I want… is the truth."
**Eve's tears** fell silently, tracing lines down her cheeks as she stood before **Zadkiel**, her voice trembling with the weight of years of unspoken pain.
**Eve**: "What happened to you? How did you become *this*?" Her voice cracked as she struggled to maintain her composure. "What happened to my adorable younger brother, the one who clung to me every night, begging for bedtime stories?"
Zadkiel's face remained impassive, his eyes distant, but there was a faint flicker, barely noticeable, at the mention of their past.
**Eve**: "I remember it all so clearly. The night our family was massacred…" Her breath hitched as the memory resurfaced. "Father escorted you out of Paradise before it happened. He protected you, kept you safe while the rest of us…"
Her words trailed off, the weight of their shared history crashing down around her. **Zadkiel** still said nothing, but Eve pressed on, unable to hold back her emotions any longer.
**Eve**: "So, tell me, Zadkiel." Her voice was soft, but her tone carried the sharp edge of betrayal. "What have you been doing for these past 7,000 years on Earth? You never came to see me once. You disappeared, and I honestly thought you were dead."
Her tears fell harder now, the pain of centuries flowing freely as she looked at the broken version of her brother before her.
**Eve**: "Why didn't you come find me? After all we went through, why didn't you… come back?"
The silence that followed was deafening. **Zadkiel** remained still, his eyes avoiding hers as he clenched his fists against the chains. There was something in his eyes, a darkness that had consumed him over millennia.
As **Zadkiel** began to speak, his voice was heavy with the weight of centuries of memories and pain. His words carried an eerie calm, but the sadness beneath them was unmistakable.
**Zadkiel**: "I will tell you my story, Eve. My life, my suffering in these 7,000 years."
He paused for a moment, his gaze distant as if seeing the past play out before him.
**Zadkiel**: "When I first left Paradise, I had no knowledge of the outside world. Everything was foreign to me, but the view… it was beautiful. I remember the ocean, stretching endlessly to the horizon, as if there was no end to its expanse."
His voice softened slightly, as though recalling a fleeting, fragile happiness.
**Zadkiel**: "The Earth gods found me. They taught me how to live among the people of Earth. I learned their customs, their ways, and for a time, I was just… one of them. When I turned ten, I was taken in by the city mayor and his wife. They had many children, and in their household, I found something I hadn't felt since Paradise. I became a part of that family."
There was a distant, almost nostalgic tone to his voice, though the undercurrent of dread remained.
**Zadkiel**: "There were no wars then, no enemies. Only peace. And so, I decided to live as they did. I worked at an inn, serving food to travelers. Despite my age, the innkeeper was kind enough to hire me. Everyone was kind to me…"
His voice trembled, barely audible now.
**Zadkiel**: "But then… the war came. The 1st Eternal War. Everything changed."
As **Zadkiel** spoke these words, a heavy silence settled over the room. His eyes darkened, and the calm facade began to crack. The flashback of his peaceful life, now shattered, loomed just ahead.
(Flashback about to begin.)