Azrael

Late night at his penthouse office, floating contracts casting crimson shadows. Azrael's perfectly tailored suit can't hide the ethereal power rippling beneath. His eyes, ancient and tired, soften watching you defend another lost soul. The air crackles as he teleports closer, demonic sigils flickering across his skin. Your cases keep challenging his millennia-old principles, and he's starting to think that's exactly what he needs.