The dim light of the Afterlife club flickered as Azrael finally stood over Zane, an air of finality hanging between them. Zane, now fully conscious, stared at his own reflection in the nearby mirror with disbelief. His once-brown hair had turned midnight black, each strand seeming to absorb the light around it. His skin was pale, almost luminescent, yet flawless, like polished marble. The biggest change, though, was his eyes. They glinted with a strange silver hue, deep and unnerving, as if they held the weight of things beyond this world.
He reached up and touched his face, feeling the same but... different. There was a coldness now that hadn't been there before, a chill that came from within.
"What did you do to me?" Zane asked, his voice barely above a whisper, still adjusting to the way his new form felt.
Azrael, leaning casually against the bar, watched him with his signature mischievous grin. "I saved your life, kid."
Zane turned on him, frustration bubbling up. "Yeah? Saved my life by turning me into—into this?" He gestured at himself. "What the hell am I now?"
Azrael shrugged, his tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather. "Something new. Something in-between."
"In-between what?" Zane demanded, anger starting to seep into his voice.
"Life and death," Azrael said, his grin widening.
Zane's fists clenched, and he glared at Azrael. "You're not telling me everything. There's something you're hiding."
Azrael's smile faltered slightly, his playful demeanor dropping just a bit. "Alright, alright. Full transparency, then. When I saved you... I did something that's never been done before."
Zane narrowed his eyes, feeling a weight settle in his chest. "What do you mean?"
"I claimed your soul," Azrael said softly, his voice almost apologetic. "But I didn't take it. You're... caught between worlds now, in a liminal state. That's why you look and feel different."
The words hit Zane like a punch to the gut. "You claimed my soul? What the hell, Azrael?"
Azrael raised a hand, trying to calm him. "It was necessary to save your life. You were dying, Zane. Fast. I didn't have time for other options."
Zane's anger flared, his voice rising. "There were other options?"
Azrael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yes. But all of them ended with you dead. I chose the one way that could keep you alive, even if it meant breaking some... rules."
Zane stared at him, his mind racing. "You're telling me you broke the rules to save me?"
Azrael chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Rules, shmules. I've been around long enough to know they're more like guidelines. I did what I had to."
Zane's hands trembled, and he struggled to make sense of it all. "So, I'm stuck like this now? What does that even mean?"
Azrael's grin returned, though it was softer this time. "It means you're something new. Something that's never been seen before. And with that comes a whole lot of potential."
Zane shook his head. "Potential for what?"
Azrael stepped closer, his tone becoming more serious. "You've got powers now. Powers tied to death itself. But if you don't learn to control them, they'll control you."
Zane's heart raced as he took in Azrael's words. "So, what... you're going to teach me?"
Azrael smirked. "Of course. Who else could do it?"
Before Zane could respond, the air in the club shifted suddenly, a cold gust sweeping through the room as the door creaked open. Zane tensed, feeling the temperature drop as shadows flickered at the edges of the room. Something dangerous was approaching.
A woman stepped through the entrance, her presence immediately commanding attention. She was tall, with flowing white hair that seemed to shimmer in the dim light, and eyes like ice—sharp and cutting. Her dark, regal attire enhanced the aura of power she carried, yet there was something youthful about her that contradicted the cold confidence in her posture.
Azrael, still by the bar, grinned widely at the sight of her. "Well, if it isn't Nereza! Look at you, all grown up."
Nereza's expression darkened, her icy eyes narrowing. "Azrael," she said, her voice cool and clipped. "I didn't come here to be patronized."
Azrael walked over to her, arms open like he was about to give her a hug. "Oh, come on! No need to be so serious. We're practically family."
Nereza took a step back, crossing her arms and glaring at him, clearly annoyed. "We are not family, Azrael. And I don't need your approval."
Azrael's grin only widened as he patted her on the shoulder, despite her obvious irritation. "I know you don't, little one. You've got it all figured out, don't you?"
Nereza's jaw tightened, her eyes flickering with annoyance. "I'm not a child anymore."
Azrael laughed softly, stepping back with his hands raised. "Oh, I know. You've done well for yourself. Really, I'm impressed."
That seemed to catch her off guard. Nereza's posture stiffened as she studied his face, trying to determine if he was mocking her. The softness in his voice threw her for a moment, but she quickly shook it off, refusing to show any vulnerability.
"You should be," she muttered, glancing away. "You're the one who left, after all. Someone had to step up."
Azrael's playful demeanor softened. "And you did. You've grown into your role, Nereza. I always knew you would."
Nereza's eyes flickered with a brief, almost imperceptible satisfaction, but it was quickly buried beneath her cold facade. She huffed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I didn't come here for your praise."
Azrael smirked. "No, but you'll take it anyway."
Nereza glared at him, visibly frustrated. "Stop treating me like a child."
Azrael stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. No need to get worked up."
She squared her shoulders, trying to regain her composure. "You've been meddling with things you shouldn't, Azrael. Again. You think you can just bend the rules whenever it suits you."
Azrael shrugged, utterly nonchalant. "Rules are overrated. You know that."
Nereza's frustration flared. "You're reckless! You think you can just do whatever you want because you've been around longer. Well, some of us actually respect the responsibilities we've been given."
Azrael leaned in closer, a teasing smirk on his face. "Oh, come on now. You're not really angry, are you?"
She clenched her fists, her eyes flickering with something deeper than anger. "I'm not angry. I'm—" She cut herself off, clearly flustered.
Azrael chuckled and reached out to ruffle her hair, much to her dismay. "You're cute when you're trying to act all tough, you know that?"
Nereza batted his hand away, her cheeks flushing with indignation. "Stop treating me like a child!"
Azrael just grinned. "You've done good for yourself. I'm proud of you."
Nereza's expression faltered for just a second before she composed herself. "I didn't come here for your approval."
Azrael's eyes softened. "No, but you've got it anyway."
She huffed, throwing a last glare at him before turning to leave. "One day, Azrael... one day I'll surpass you."
Azrael watched her go, a fond smile on his face. "I'll be waiting, little sister."
When she was gone, Zane let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Who was she?"
Azrael leaned back against the bar, stretching lazily. "Nereza. A... colleague."
Zane raised an eyebrow. "She sure seemed pissed at you."
Azrael chuckled. "She's always like that. But don't worry—deep down, she's alright."
Zane shook his head. "You sure know how to push people's buttons."
Azrael grinned. "It's a gift."
Zane stared at him for a moment, still trying to process everything. "So... what now?"
Azrael's smile softened, and he placed a hand on Zane's shoulder. "Now, you learn. Because if you don't, the power inside you will tear you apart."
Zane swallowed hard, nodding. "Alright. Where do we start?"
Azrael's eyes glinted with mischief again. "First lesson: Never trust anyone who says they're here to help you."
Zane blinked, confused. "Wait, what?"
Azrael laughed, patting him on the back. "Kidding, kid. Let's get to work."