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Azrael pulled his quintessence free of the Watchers skull, and had begun moving away from the wolves when his ears picked up Velo's cry for help. Turning towards him, the exile rocketed towards the immortal with a slight flap of his many wings. Stopping just short of the emperor, he raised his fiery sword on high and, with as much stength as he could muster, brought it down on the nape of the Watchers neck, burning through armor and rotted flesh alike.

Pulling his blade free from the charred ruins once more, he turned his gaze upon Velo.

[color=blue]"What's the matter Emperor?"[/color]

A smirk disfigured the angels horrific face. 

[color=blue]"Do my kind frighten you?"[/color]

Despite his words, which were mocking to a certain extent, Azrael understood Velo's panic all too well. Being trapped in the belly of one of these things, forced to digest for Seven knew how long, was a fate even he feared.