It would not have been the first time Anghel had been stopped, and made the recipient of a declaration, an inquiry, anything of the sort. Albeit, while the avian was normally the one to initiate the conversation, he did recall, vaguely, during his time in the realm before, being confronted several times on equally dangerous matters. And so, when this stranger, a lord, so it seemed, stepped before him, Anghel did nothing and let the other speak.
And speak he did, and he did speak of the actions upon the island. Death. Despair. Denial. Anghel fell silent, and merely listened to his lecture. The young lord had every right to accuse him of failing to stop the countless killings, because in truth, it was--the fact that the murders happened at all was the collective fault of all the souls trapped within.
Finally, he spoke. "...I do not deny your accusations, milord. Many a soul have fallen on the days we have spent among the tempest shores of She'ol, and my scarlet eye foresees that we have not seen the last of such despair. The burden, and the blame, indeed falls on all our shoulders. To say otherwise would be hubris."
"...Still. Were such morals of ease to instill in the mortal plane, by my Crimson Breast, they would have been so long ago. But such matters are never so simple." Mortals were subjectively flawed, and Anghel, a past servant to God, knew that better than anyone. Their imperfect hearts gave birth to love and camaraderie, but so too did they make them troublesome and over-emotional, which, given the circumstances, was a dangerous combination. "The Monochrome Dream Eater understands all too well the follies of man and plays his pieces accordingly. Many who walk on this earth are not all pure in intention, and with each accursed day that passes those many help the demon spores grow, and in turn the demon spores curse the body and soul."
Anghel crossed his arms over his chest, a look of unease written across his features. "It is... regrettable, to admit, but this is the truth. Upon this evil isle, and we, without unity nor guidance, such darkness cannot be lifted by mere words alone. Nay, not with the ease and rashness of which you speak."
He paused, and his pained expression gave way to one more calm. "...but please, do not misunderstand. I have no intention of welcoming the End Times idly. The mirror of destiny, which fragments we all tread upon, have thus summoned me back onto this plane. That, alone, shall prove that there is hope left among us. And so long as I draw breath, my Crimson Breast shall find this hope for all this world to see."
