I nodded gravely at my Guardian Angel, whose wings flared suddenly as an
alien and frightening look of power sweot across her face. With one
hand, she reached forward and as her hand touched Dexter's chest, it
flared brightly, impossibly, white, and entered his breast. The Angel's
eyes rolled back in its head in ecstasy as she ripped the soul from
Dexter's body. Dexter collapsed without a sound; his body now nothing
more than a useless husk.

Now kindly sit down and shut your mouth.

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Severin, in the year 186 MA.