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The wind of the cold night welcomed me, shaking my hair close to my face. I pushed away some strands, smelling the rain coming, and observing the lack of stars in the sky, all covered with heavy and dense clouds. In the corner of the terrace, the same way I saw him a few good months ago, was Miguel. The pair of huge and spectacular wings that surrounded him kept very well attached to the body, and he seemed to have gained more weight, not that he appeared to be fat, but... muscular. For a delirious moment, I almost thought it was Vraxlon, if it wasn't for the short hair and so blond that they were almost white, and also because Vraxlon was pretty dead in hell.

The archangel turned to me, and I had the slight impression that the world around us stopped, silent and attentive. I could see something in him that I couldn't before with my human vision and body without my own powers. He shone. Not like me, with that golden and sovereign glow, made of golden tones. Miguel shone in a pearly-wh