"Azrael?" Stephen asked. "No...." Leviathan answered back. As bone spines popped out of his back and he turned a pale black with fiery red eyes and horns atop his head, a true transformation. He smiled..."Azrael....It is I. The son of Genesis."
Stepping off the plane, his feet touched Iceland's wet grass. The smell of it intoxicating as he took a deep breath of it's fresh air. His always present trench coat and dress shirt tie with khaki slacks ever present. Looking abit like John Constantine but with more reddish hair.
As he approaches his old base, Leviathan twists and churns in his stomach before shooting into blood stream and taking full control. Washing over his eyes and filling his heart with an unmistakable hatred...."I seeeeeeee they've left our seat warm.....Perhaps your Fathers throne? It is your right...is it not? You see, you've been busy..too busy to see Stephen Castle. To busy to see, we're not digging trenches for the coming war...we're digging our graves unless you take your rightful place.....Go. They must know of your arrival."
And so Stephen stood there waiting for the door to be answered.