Azariel's consciousness returned faster than the last time.
The realm of darkness didn't hold him, but as soon as he returned, pain racked his soul. His soul sat on the edge of being crushed, thin as wet paper under a palm, and every thought arrived already torn. He pushed himself up on shaking arms, bones forming cracks.
His vision swam, and the hall tilted in his view as though it would flip on him.
This time, he didn't try to stand up but crawled as his father said, or maybe advised.
He tried to take a step forward while still crawling when suddenly the pressure fell again.
His knee fell and cracked against the marble stone.
"Ugh…" He caught himself on one hand using his elbow, teeth locked, and lasted three breaths before the world went black again.
When he woke up, pain was waiting for him like it was going to ambush him.
