Wrath gave up everything for the power to choose. This world continues to rip that choice from him. The moment the word "Curse" is forced from his mouth - the temperature around Wrath goes down many degrees. It will be felt by anyone in the vicinity. They'll see the white puff of their breath in the air, will feel the shiver of the cold. Something unspeakably dark radiates from him.

The tattoo remains on his hand: 'Curse', visible for anyone to see. A vulnerability he has not spoken of to anyone other than Emilia, a truth forced from his tongue and laid bare.

He struggles to rein in the monster caged within him, aware it will do little but interfere with their ultimate goal, aware of the innocent casualties such destruction would cause. It isn't the first time innocents have suffered from his actions (his wife-to-be among them). But part of the Devil wants nothing more than to destroy the entire city for this - see it crumble beneath the earthquake he could create, and to destroy all of those who find choice so easy to take and destroy.

He sits in a corner of the center, taking careful, controlled breaths. His expression is impassive, but the temperature around him remains chilly. He misses the sun already.