Aziraphale took a sip, trying to get a grasp on the situation. His eyes narrowed slightly, knuckles white but relaxing on the bar, and he wondered: Did it happen to him too? Had he lost his power? It seemed like a backwards question. If anything, a personification of the End Times would lose form first; the form was not the being. And yet.

Here he was, looking exactly like he'd done at the power station, looking a bit puzzled, very intrigued, and entirely dangerous. What did one even say in this situation?

"How do you find it?" Aziraphale asked, eyes sliding forward again. "The Cave."