Abaddon laughed shortly, though it was mirthless. He didn't turn to look at the angel, instead focusing on the city. He could hear a thousand voices, more even, the thoughts of the sinners below. He wondered distantly when exactly the city had fallen. Abaddon didn't doubt that he had had a hand in the rise in the faithless.

"No. I can't be saved. I don't think even the Creator could save me now. I'm too far gone." There was a note of sadness in his voice, as if he had once harbored the hope of salvation.