As the space Leviathan—Lev—had conjured to trap both of them slowly unraveled, reality shifted back into its original hellish state. Gleren stood in silence, his gaze fixed on the radiant figure before him. His expression was a mixture of awe and bewilderment, though his eyes were drawn to one person in particular—Martha.
The angelic entity shielding her flapped its colossal wings with a steady rhythm, scattering trails of glittering gold dust into the air with every motion. Each shimmer lingered, casting a surreal glow against the crimson void of the demon's domain. Martha sat in the heart of the angel's chest, her face resolute and unyielding as her piercing eyes locked onto the hulking figure before her. She didn't even glance in Gleren's direction, so focused was she on the enemy looming ahead.
Gleren shifted his stance, his lips curving into a bemused smile. "She hasn't even noticed me yet. Typical."
