İloş

Crowley watched as Aziraphale’s worn, frumpy clothes faded into brilliant robes of scarlet and violet, the fabric rippling like water. A gilded belt with an empty scabbard appeared around his waist as Aziraphale’s pearl-like wings materialised onto the physical plane.

Aziraphale’s face did not change, but the slightly careworn features and lines around his eyes and mouth faded, making his visage appear so much younger. His pale skin seemed to glow with an inner fire that was warm rather than the coldness Crowley remembered from Heaven. The light finally pooled around Aziraphale’s head in a brilliant halo before swirling around his brow and fading into a gleaming golden coronet that was the symbol of rank for Principalities. The band shone like liquid fire, the rainbow hued gems sparkling against Aziraphale’s wavy hair.