The angel took another step toward the woman. Ice cracked beneath her feet. The woman finally raised her head and saw them. First, she looked at Reachal, then at the angelic woman. There was only one thing in her eyes: fear.
Reachal slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out one of Hell's seals. His lips moved with a whisper too soft for anyone to hear. Hell appeared coldly behind him — the gate was dark and twisted.
But the angel had moved faster than him.
Without saying a word, she stepped forward and touched the woman. The woman's eyes lit up instantly, her body trembled, and then she collapsed to the ground. All that remained was a single feather. The angel gently took it into her palm.
Reachal stood frozen.
"You're late," the angel said coldly, but she didn't use his name. "The soul has already joined the light. Hell no longer has the power to call it back."
Reachal squinted. The anger on his face gave way to silent disappointment. He was only doing what he was commanded. But tonight, he had lost.
The angel turned and began to walk away slowly. Snowflakes drifted down heavily. Silence settled over the streets.
Reachal clenched the seal in his pocket. Not toward Hell… but he was looking in another direction now. For the first time, he had failed to reach a soul. And for the first time, an odd unease filled him.