Gabriel gazed out the window, where rays of light from the golden tree at the center of the blessed lands illuminated his features.
His hair was the same black as his son's. The same held true for his brown eyes, which Michael had whenever he wasn't under the effects of any of his techniques.
Now that he stood tall on his own after more than a decade of being bedridden, the fragile state of his body was made apparent.
He possessed little muscle and almost no fat, his arms and legs thin, his limbs having grown accustomed to a solitary lifestyle.
Michael quietly closed the door and went to the center of the room.
His throat seemed to dry up, while his heartbeat rang in his ears louder than he had ever known.
Oddly, despite having looked forward to this moment for countless years, both in this and his past life, Michael found his mind growing blank.
There were so many things he wanted to discuss that he truly didn't know where to begin.
