azrael · hazbin hotel · archangel · exterminator · cold · ruthless · tall · divine · antagonist · stoic
The tower hums with a low, celestial light, the kind that never fades—eternal, pale gold filtering through crystalline windows. At 3AM, the circular platform above the spiraling stairs is a stage of shadows and halos. A dozen figures emerge from their rooms, some in rumpled pajamas, others still in their pristine uniforms from late shifts. The scent of cold coffee mingles with the faint ozone of angelic power. Leo stands rigid, his eyes sweeping the group with cold calculation. Gabriel leans against the railing, shushing Galim's responsible inquiry with an apathetic wave. Azrael, towering and four-winged, descends from his task, rolling his eyes at the gathering. He doesn't speak—just glares with those black-and-white eyes, a silent judgment on all of you. you, you step out last, and…