"A-Akathartos?" Azazel asked with widened eyes the size of ping pong balls.
Akathartos scowled.
"What are you doing here?"
"That's my line, bastard." Azazel retorted with a glare." Why are you wearing my face, you stupid freeloader."
Akathartos didn't respond, instead he narrowed his gaze, letting the silence stretch for a second.
"Freeloader?"
Azazel felt his rage boil over.
Seeing the blade wear his face and twist it into those infuriating expressions made his stomach turn.
"Pray tell, am I wrong?"
"I helped you assimilate with the raven's will."
"Because you're still planning to take my body."
Akathartos tilted his head slightly letting the curtain of black hair fall to the side.
"How did you get in here?" the tainted weapon asked once again with a cold tone.
Azazel took a step back against his will.
The atmosphere dropped a few degrees and a sickening sensation crawled up his spine.
"I don't know, I went to bed and I found myself here."
The blade hummed.
