Zazel would be transported to an asymmetrical room of red and blue. He'd find himself walking along the red path, the black tiles giving off a strong reflection. His red eyes can be visible in the flooring, as he'd try to avert his gaze and look around the new scenery he was placed in. Mosaic pains littered across the entire place, the hall as far as he could see. Each pane depicts an Angel and a Demon, their most well-known achievements recorded and painted for those to see. He felt a bit uneased when seeing each pane, both in remembering his past, as well as his somewhat fear for the angels. He couldn't imagined why his reflection would even wander in this area, as he'd assume they'd be just as blasphemous as he was. That they'd be just as much of a demon as he is.
That was until he finally looked to his side properly and saw his other half.
Angelic robes, alongside gold rings on his fingers, letting them slip to his hand's base, acting as personal knuckledusters. Black hair, fair skin, and the same eyes and mouth as Zadkiel. Two wings, with his feathers possessing the needed eyes. A set of belts that wraps across his body, a personalized bind to hold him together, as well as the cross embedded in the back of his hands. Each step that the Angel took mirrored that of the Demons. As each step they made across the area, it was a clear one to one. This was his mirrored self. "Got a name..?" Zazel asked.
Silence.
"Ah....Hello? You alive there?"
Silence again.
"...Oh ok we're playing this game, huh? You know that I can't get what you want if you're not gonna speak up, right?"
Silence once more, yet in this instance, the angel merely pointed at the Mosaics. It would take Zazel a few minutes to properly understand the man's message. Even though it appears he cannot speak, he can still understand the Demon, communicating in its own way. Zazel's fears came to life once more, as he knew what he wanted. He'd swallow his anxiety down as he kept walking, watching the angel keep following his steps, his hand movements, his shoulders that turn side-to-side as they walked, his Gaze that wandered to the environment itself.
"Okay, since you're mute... Why exactly do we have to fight?" His question was met with the holy man merely pointing at his personalized, golden Halo, and the decrepit, hollow horns that are embedded onto him. "Oh hardy har har. You don't think I know that whole dilemma? No, I mean... PERSONALLY... What made you want to fight me?" His question, once again, was met with the same pointing. The same mosaics that painted their respective kind. The tales that told of their endless fight. Such a reason was as plain as it can be: It is their nature. Demons and Angels will fight, regardless of the situation or participants. It is an inevitable battle that occurs in their very soul, one that resonates the most in conflict. Zazel recalled Zadkiel's words to heart when he was on his own lowest moment, brushing with death as he tried to protect someone, a Human no less.
"This is my test, huh? You're here to see if I can handle Heaven... Aren't you?"
The Angel stared at the boy, its light dimming in order to not strain the demon. It smiled and nodded as it got into a stance. The Demon followed suit, though now his mind is somewhat at ease. He can't explain it, though. He's up against an Angel, a source of holiness that has time after time brutalized him, pushing him to his limits and going further than what he wanted. Here, it feels more like a simple workout. He can feel his body reacting to the visible, blessed light. It was scared, and yet his mind wishes for him to push on. It must've been the reason as to why his Mirror is such an angel as well, one that shared similar looks to both himself and to Zadkiel. To best others...
He must best himself.
Meanwhile, another visible area was made beside Zazel, just off of his vision. Solomon would be walking along his own path, one in pure black, with white lines to depict the setting. A Switch is visible on the far end, making the Biblical Sorcerer try to flip it. As he did, the room would be given its proper color, an orange room with books littered on the ground. Empty shelves are against the wall, letters indicating the order of which such books were supposed to be placed. As the boy tried to fix the place, he noticed that someone was missing. A holler and a cackle echoed in the messy library, his eyes stressed and twitching. "No.... No, no, no, no, no, NO-"
"HOO YEAH!!! I'S GOT MY BODY AGAIN! YIPPEEEE!!!" His shadow, once attached, now severed and flying around freely, cackling away, swimming around the area and making as much noise as possible in celebration. It didn't even noticed Solomon's groans and painful sounds as he recognized that he is his living reflection. Shady joyously danced away as Solomon would try his hardest to gather as many books as possible, tossing them straight to his head, hoping at least one would hit him. Alas, it merely phased through the darkness, prompting Solomon to go further and use his Codex Gigas. "HEHEHE! Oh you wanna tussel with yah old man, eh?! C'mon then! Show me what you got! I bet you wouldn't even leave a scratch on me-"
"WILL YOU SHUT UP!?" Solomon interrupted in annoyance. Of all the possibilities to have as his other half, it was the one he'd rather not associate with. He paid his respects in him raising the boy, but he would rather take Harvard to act as his Mirror over his cheery shadow any day of the week.