The air was cold and thin, the chilled winds stinging and biting at exposed flesh like fleas. The sky stretched on for forever, a dull gray blue marked by streaks of wispy clouds. The sky kissed the horizon an eternity away, so far out of reach. The landscape was spread before them, all black and white. Mountains covered in snow, dotted with dark trees. No life could be seen for miles.<br/><br/>At this high altitude, most would freeze. But a single ethereal being was entirely comfortable, a single black dot in the white and gray landscape. He appeared as part of the scenery, as black and white as the drab land around him. Snow white skin contrasted radically with ebony hair, eyes, clothes, and, strangest of all, wings. A sharp, swirling black mark of runes crept up his jaw on the left side.<br/><br/>Nakir was a bizarre and startling being to see. He did not appear human in very many senses. But in dull human vision, they may see only an ethereally attractive man; should he pull his wings in and make them vanish. But even dull humans could sense the strangeness of him; and avoid him for it. He made them nervous.<br/><br/>He was something unknown and something frightening.<br/><br/>â€œAwful chilly up here, Naki.â€<br/><br/>Another person joined him; appearing suddenly from apparently nowhere at all. It was Ramiel, the Angel of Thunder, and constant thorn in his side. Her long caramel hair whipped around behind her as she stepped towards him. She was the only spot of color in the landscape, and caramel and crimson and silver in her armor, and with her she brought the smell of ozone. Her sword hung at her hip and she drew her snowy white wings in close.<br/><br/>â€œIf you are cold; leave.â€ Nakir told her simply, his voice deep and resonating. It was a voice known to terrify humans. And a voice known for either damning or forgiving souls.<br/><br/>Ramiel ignored him; electing instead to gaze out over the stretch of colorless land. They were silent for a long while. It began to snow. Soft, cold drifts of snow cascaded over them, covering Nakirâ€™s shoulders and hair with their cold whiteness. The snowflakes melted before they touched Ramiel.<br/><br/>It was a long time before Ramiel spoke up again. â€œDid you hear?â€ she asked. No other explanation or hints, just three words. They could mean anything.<br/><br/>But Nakir understood, and nodded. â€œAbout the dead boy? Yes. Munkir contacted me.â€<br/><br/>Ramiel looked over at Nakir at the mention of his counterpart. â€œMunkir? The other Angel of Justice?â€<br/><br/>Nakir snorted. â€œThe very one. Living it up in Heaven while Iâ€™m down here doing the dirty work.â€ Nakir thought of his partner; his mirror reflection; his twin of sorts. The two of them were almost the same being, but Munkir was far more merciful than his other half. And while Nakir was represented with everything dark, Munkir was his opposite. To Nakirâ€™s starkly contrasting black features and white skin; Munkirâ€™s skin was a deep brown, with white hair, wings, and usually white clothes. And while Nakirâ€™s wings were sharply angled and each feather resembled the blade of a sword; Munkirâ€™s were soft and smoothly curved. And while Nakirâ€™s black hair held a bit of a curl or wave to it; Munkirâ€™s white hair was pin-straight. The only similarity was their black eyes.<br/><br/>But it was understandable that Munkir would be the one to stay. He was far too gentle in the way he went about things. And he was recently injured in some event he would tell no one about. Bandages now covered his left eye, and much pain was caused by this injury.<br/><br/>Nakir was a bit peeved that his<span style="font-style: italic">mirror image</span>, his<span style="font-style: italic">angelic counterpart</span>, who had been with him<span style="font-style: italic">since their creation</span>, refused to explain what happened.<br/><br/>â€œI will find the child. I must find the reason why he has not passed on. It does not seem like the normal...haunting to me.â€ Nakir said. â€œBut if it is...that just makes my job a lot simpler.â€<br/><br/>Ramiel frowned, her beautiful green eyes disapproving. â€œBut wonâ€™t He punish you for straying from your orders? To defeat Lucifer?â€<br/><br/>Nakir made an annoyed noise. â€œMy reason for creation was to guide the dead. This will not interrupt my quest.â€<br/><br/>Ramiel looked doubtful. â€œVery well then. Good luck.â€<br/><br/>Nakir narrowed his eyes at the scenic landscape millions of miles below them. â€œYes.â€<br/><br/>And then both angels vanished.