"Where did you go?"
Valra asked with a furious yet unmistakably relieved expression. For a heartbeat, she'd almost thought something dreadful had happened to Azrael—something final.
But thank the gods, nothing had.
Azrael blinked back at her, "Well, I went for a piss, you know… ladies' duty~" she said with a crooked smile. Her eyes, though, quickly narrowed as she glanced at Nergal, who was now a shambling shape smothered in tar-like black liquid, oozing rot.
"Fuck, that's disgusting," she muttered, her lip curling as she watched Nergal charging at them.
"Get ready!"
Valra snapped, "I need your help to deal with this thing—"
Azrael gave a curt nod. She set down the heavy, bloodstained bag with a thud, the ground crunching beneath its weight. Her hands moved with dangerous calm, unstrapping the shotgun, checking the chamber, loading shells with an audible click.
