Cain gently opened his eyes.
In front of him, the communicator lay still.
"Well, that was an experience, wasn't it? That old dog is still as scary as ever."
Cain shot Azazel a dirty look,
"You said he wasn't powerful."
Azazel shrugged,
"I said compared to the other Celestials that existed in our camp. I'll tell you this; there is no way I could have defeated that old dog even in my prime. Not in a million years."
Cain sighed and leaned back.
The night sky was as bleak as ever.
The stars were obscured by the dreary clouds, and the moon was hidden away.
The surface of the lake trembled softly, perhaps mirroring the state of his mind.
"By the way, how strong were you in your prime?" Cain suddenly asked.
"Hm?"
Cain sat up,
"I've been thinking about this for some time now..."
The image projected of Azazel distorted.
"This war that happened... a thousand millennia ago, just how bad was it? Were you the only survivor?"
