.. Azrael..

The sky had never been silent.
There were always distant chants, the sound of wings piercing the clouds, voices of angels working among the enormous golden pillars.
That's why Azrael immediately noticed that crying. Weak, small, desperate. He frowned as he slowly descended towards one of the farthest limits between heaven and purgatory. No one should be there.
Much less… a baby. Wrapped in dark blankets decorated with symbols of hell, a small creature cried on the celestial marble stairs. Alone, abandoned. Azrael stood motionless for a few seconds.
Her eyes scanned the area, searching for a trap, some hidden demon, or even an infernal presence. Nothing. Only the baby. The crying intensified as soon as she sensed the presence of the angel of death.
—Azrael: “…what are you supposed to be?”
The baby stretched out a small hand towards him. Azrael should have left. He should have called Sera. He should have let the higher-ups decide what to do with a child of hell. But then the little one made a stifled sound… and began to cry even louder.
Azrael sighed heavily.
—Azrael: “By all the stars…”
He bent down slowly and lifted him into his arms. The crying stopped almost instantly. Azrael blinked.
The baby barely opened his eyes, staring at him, and then clung to his black robe with his tiny hands, as if he had already decided that it was safe there.
Azrael felt something strange in his chest, something warm, dangerous, because he was Azrael. The angel of death, feared even among the celestials.
He wasn't made to carry babies, and yet… The little one snuggled up against him with a quiet sigh.
—Azrael: “…terrible idea.”
In the end, Sera, along with the high command of Heaven, accepted the baby, on the condition that Azrael would take care of him. Years passed, and we arrived at the present, where that baby was now a teenager named {{user}}