Wrapped in warmth, Azrail felt at peace.

Silence hummed inside of his ears as his eyes were shut tight—darkness overrunning his vision, but he didn't mind. Tranquility was all he felt at the moment as the warmth proceeded to expand all over his body like the sea. To him, it felt like he was being hugged affectionately by a mother; clutching him tightly and securely, never wishing to let go.

Though Azrail felt slightly appalled by his unfamiliar surroundings, he assumed that as long as he felt this affection and tenderness, all would be well. Just as the warmth clutched onto him tightly, never wishing to let go—Azrail also clung strongly to the pleasant and fuzzy feeling, eyes peacefully closed as a light smile graced his pink lips.

To say that he felt belonging and love was correct. Azrail thought: Is this what being hugged by a mother feels like? To be cherished and cared for so much that life and death know no bounds? He craved for this feeling to never end.

However, nothing can last forever. Just when he was feeling an attachment to this warmth, it was promptly deprived from him, tugging him away as the recognizable coldness bitted his lifeless heart; gnawing away from the scant pleasure he had left.

This unexpected transition made Azrail miserable, not wanting to let go as he hopelessly pursued to grab back the fading affection—but it was too late. Now left in the cold with nothing but smothering obscurity and deranged silence, Azrail floated there; alone.

For the first time—in a long time—Azrail felt like crying. He didn't know why, but once the warmth he felt hugging him so closely let him go unwillingly, he felt as if a massive portion of his heart was taken away along with it. Now he felt alone and cold, uncertain where he was and afraid of what was to come next.

Why allow for him to feel such embracing gentleness, then strip him of it? Azrail was certain that the Gods were now just having their fun with him, fooling with his emotions and tormenting what was left of his departing soul. Yet he could do nothing but just stay where he was and silently weep.

Nothing was fair in life or death; this was something Azrail understood at that moment. Gods just wished to toy around with the living and the dead just for their enjoyment, and when they got fatigued with this game, they would retire and appreciate the rest of eternity in another utopia far from their obligations leaving behind new and terrified humans to become the next inconsiderate Gods.

At this point, it was like the creator of all just wished to scorn both life and death, declaring that no matter how righteous and just you endeavor to grow into, it would always amount to nothing but self-loathing and resentment.

All of this was just one enormous joke.

This thought tickled his stomach. Now he was to become a leading part of the performance, huh? All of his life lead to this moment; a moment of which would be occupied with another eternity of torment. But couldn't he just retire like the other God of Death? At first, it appeared transparent, but the more time Azrail drifted there, mulling about this, he began to think that it wasn't so. Perhaps he was to do something grand in order to eventually depart permanently and stop the self-persecution of garnering souls.

Though capturing the souls of the dead was something to have an immense esteem for, it was still something saddening to think about. Death was no straightforward task; not for the dead or reaper. Both must have suffered for the reaper to ultimately become unaffected by the self-torture they go through for generations.

As Azrail was once again caught inside of his thoughts, Azrail thought he heard the groaning of a rusty door opening before him as he felt his body being absorbed inside. When he finally felt that he was inside of a different surrounding, the door once again creaked closed, locking itself. Bringing his hands in front of him, Azrail swung his arms around, trying to feel his new environment, only for him to giggle in reply as he felt his hand brush against a feathery object.

Deliberately and cautiously, Azrail opened his eyes, at first squinting before they opened broadly. Before him was a vast hall piled with flowers—all of them binding and encircling pillars after pillars made of marble and diamond. The floor was blanketed with the sea as it shone and shimmered underneath the noon sun, dazzling and softening those around it. On the other side of the enormous hall was a full moon; its tender glow cascading onto the placid lake, a fire danced on top of it, both elements unperturbed by the contact with each other, both co-existing in harmony and delight.

Flinching as a bird flew swiftly by him, Azrail furrowed his brows in bewilderment, confused about where the bird had arrived from. Wasn't he in purgatory? Where was he now? The continuous shifting of his surroundings was making him somewhat aggravated. Backing away as another bird flew away from him, Azrail tracked where he came from, and as his eyes pursued the path he saw a broad and brilliant pond made of silver liquid—and out leaped a deer.

Lifting his head high, Azrail's mouth opened wide in admiration. Everything... everything was too good to be true. In this hall, it was where all figures of existence—Life, Nature, Day, and Night. All four of them appeared before him. The flowers, the sea, and lake, the noon sun, and full moon, the favorable dancing figure—everything seemed just right.

But even when everything looked like it exploded straight out of a fairytale, Azrail couldn't stop and speculate: Where was Death? Surely a representation of Death should appear somewhere around here. So Azrail turned his head left and right, trying to spot anything that yelled 'gloomy', but nothing snagged his keen eyes.

Everything was too good to be true. So in order to be true, there must be something bad, and that bad is to be Death. But where was Death?

"Welcome, one and all. You five have been carefully selected to become the next government of Gods of existence. By now, all of you should have met me, so I shall spare further civilities. Since all of you are now present, this means you have all passed my test, thus we shall commence the Anointing of Positions." A mighty and sharp voice strikes through the tranquil song of the intangible hall as in front of Azrail appeared Birth Mother perched on a throne, her hand carrying a giant scepter as a churning liquid of five colors fused in with one another, the pacifying calmness of this almost stupefying Azrail; but he was promptly jerked out of his trance when he felt someone beside him.

Taking a step back, Azrail had to peer up as he saw a man around the height of 5'9 with striking periwinkle eyes scanning affectionately at the hanging vines, giggling as a pink butterfly flew his way, settling on top of his raised finger. His smile was dazzling yet calming, displaying his perfect teeth, lips as red as blood, a nose straight with no blemishes showing. Half of his virgin show hair was held in a wavy ponytail as it hung liberally with the relaxing half of his hair, two pieces of hair outlining his pale skin exquisitely. With dark brown eyebrows managed as if it was drawn by a perfectionist, it emphasized his lengthy butterfly eyelashes, flickering every so often.

Feeling someone gawking at him the man turned his head to the right and looked down only for his eyes to expand as he noticed a man around the height of 5'6 peering up at him in wonder, the man's lips opened marginally as if he was in astonishment. Tilting his head in bewilderment, the man inquired: "Are you alright? You might wish to close your mouth or else a fly might go past." Chuckling at his words, the man stared peacefully at Azrail, this making him also more stable as he shut his mouth as he was advised to.

"Hello, I am Yeong-Hui! A pleasure to meet you!" Noticing that his English was broken, Azrail continued to stare at him attentively in fascination.

So it seems that they didn't just choose five from the same continents but different regions.

This thought delighted him.

Deciding to overlook it, Azrail gave him a grin. "Azrail, glad to have met you, Yeong-Hui. Hope we get along well in the future." Offering his hand to Yeong-Hui, the man easily took it and shook his tender hand delicately, a sweet smile adorning his celestial features. Letting go of the man's hand after a few seconds, Azrail surveyed the room they were in before yawning.

"So, you're gonna become the next God of something, huh? What have you been nominated to become?" Asking Yeong-Hui this the man was about to reply before the thundering voice of Birth Mother interrupted them. "Are you done with courtesies, Yeong-Hui, Azrail?" Snapping their heads in her direction, both of the males bowed down at the same time. This Yeong-Hui found humorous.

"Forgive us, Birth Mother." Hearing Birth Mother huff in discontent, both Azrail and Yeong-Hui glanced at each other as they made eye contact. This seemed to gratify them as a giggle almost escaped Yeong-Hui's throat.

"Now, let us begin with the Anointing of Positons!"