(The Nephilim has a drink and thinks about things.)

Panel 1

(The Nephilim is sitting on the steps to the place he's staying in. He's got a bottle of whisky in one hand and is resting his head on the door behind him.)

Nephilim: (Thought box.) Life is a fight. That's not just a Nephilim thing. The tricky bit's to decide what to fight for.

Panel 2

(He smiles to himself a little.)

Nephilim: (Thought box.) That's taken me centuries to crack.

Nephilim: (Thought box.) And look at humanity. So short lived, they'll never sort themselves out. It's some kind of joke.

Panel 3

(He leans forward with his arms resting on his knees and looks off into the distance.)

Nephilim: (Thought box.) Yeah! And that's a laugh. "An Edge" she says. With the crazy power she's tapping?

Panel 4

(He rests his head on one hand and looks down.)

Nephilim: (Thought box.) She doesn't have a clue. And guess who'll have to sort it all out. Never mind my contract.

Nephilim: (Thought box.) Sodding nuisance.

Panel 5

(He angles his head up frowning and smells the air.)

Nephilim: (Thought box.) And it smells like rain.

Nephilim: (Thought box.) Bollocks! A reminder!

Panel 6

(He reaches into the inside pocket of his coat.)

Nephilim: (Thought box.) Stuck on the roof of that bloody ark in the mother of all downpours. Nothing to eat. Nothing to fight. And no one to screw.

Panel 7

(He looks at the glowing bottle, view from above.)

Nephilim: Still, it was worth it. Here's to life!