*A few hours after having woken up in a freezer of the morgue, Azazel had taken hold of a nice blanket and hospital scrub pants. He holds the blanket close around himself and fiddles with the odd communication device before it flickers on with video feed. It must be some kind of communication device. Wireless. Impressive. Years ahead of Azazel's
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What if I am?
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*A small flinch of a smile but it quickly disappears*
There aren't many demons where I am from.
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I'm a mutant.
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