The nails on Anael's unharmed wing were like pinpricks on the edge of his sensations; an addition, but nothing overwhelming, far from it. Robin's hand on his injury was what remained at the fore of his consciousness, and he focused to speak through the pain.

He didn't want to answer Robin's question, but he wanted to be punished more.

"Because I disobeyed Them once," Anael replied. And then he couldn't stop talking, had to explain it all, urged on by the pain. "And now I'm doing what I swore I wouldn't again, for Them. But it's too late. I'm too late, and I don't deserve to be back in Heaven."