"At least I have a choice to make," Wrath says as that is the reason he fell to start with, isn't it? He was made in a manner that gave him none at all - Angel of Death, General of War. It was all set in a stone so strong that it was supposed to be impossible to break free from. For too long, he knew only obeying. He gave up everything to become what he is now if only so he could have the ability to make choices of his own.

And he would do it again and again despite what it means for his existence now - wretched and cursed, but his.

He waits, sensing the lethargy in Wangji, feeling the pressure mount given the depths of which they have traveled.

There's a singular nod from Wrath in acceptance with this statement.

But he wastes no further time, time is precious if he is only to have thirty minutes before a group of mortals attempts some type of rescue. He sinks lower and lower still, following the path of the dark magic gushing upward.