"Wait—Azraphael? Isn't that the name of Alter's old teacher?" I blurt out, fingers still laced tightly with Eris's as we sit side by side on a stone bench near the fountain in the estate garden.
Around us, crimson flowers bloom in solemn silence, the moon above casts a red hue across the world.
Eternal dusk.
"Right..." Eris murmurs. "At first, when Alter asked me if the name Azraphael meant anything to me, I couldn't recall. But even then, it felt strangely familiar. And now that I've been thinking more carefully about my past these past few days, I'm sure of it, the name that entity spoke… it was, indeed, Azraphael."
Then...
"Do you think... Alter knows about Aphaeleon too?" I ask.
"Very likely," Eris nods.
Yup.
I think so too.
I fall quiet for a moment, trying to connect everything, every detail, every fragment of truth that's come to light over these past few days.
First, when Eris summoned Sheol, Alter recognized the sword immediately.
