The agitation and indifference that Israfel was beginning to feel in the situation was quickly reversed, and instead a feeling of dread and trepidation entered her breast. Her heart beat quicker as before her very eyes, sparks crested in magnificent arcs from the Time God's very solid presence. His eyes, that terrifying, earth-shattering gaze was locked upon her, and despite her godly blood, Isra suddenly found herself feeling very insignificant.

The lightning show before her was frightening, to say the least, and one gold-clad hoof moved backwards, scraping against the solid ground beneath her feet. The God of the Spark was a terrifying visage, and she wanted nothing more than to put distance between himself and her, yet... Something stopped her. Vermillion eyes tore themselves away from the God's illuminated body, and instead focused on her surroundings, and Israfel noticed with growing dread that it was as if time had stopped around them.

The world itself seemed to stand still; the lava remained stationary as if a realistic sketch of artistry, and out of the corner of her wide eyes, Israfel spotted a flock of birds frozen in mid-flight.

'It's his very power, a voice murmured in her ear, one that Israfel recognized as her own thoughts, 'If he can do this to the world, imagine what he can do to you.' The thought made her shiver, and her tongue twisted as she opened her mouth to speak. What could she say? Instead, her muzzle snapped shut, and pale ears flicked forward as he started to speak.

Her eyes stared into his, searching the frozen, deep-blue orbs for something. What did he mean, that she would be feared, loathed, even hated for what she was? Her mother was Smoke, and her father a God, but... What had the Sun God done to warrant such hatred and loathing upon the mortals that walked the earth? Smoke, nor Kimber, had told her anything of her father's misdeeds, nor had he... What had happened? As much as the inquiry itched at her, Israfel remained silent, almost afraid to ask the question. No, no, she wouldn't ask the God of the Spark... It would be something she would ask of her mother, or her sister.

Lingering with the fear in her breast, self-doubt began to blossom, but her thoughts were stolen once more when a vision began to play before her eyes. The demi-goddess saw herself, pretty, pale, wings outstretched to their fullest glory, and before her very eyes, the phantom Israfel was ripped apart by some horrific creature out of a child's nightmare. What was this? What was he showing her? The question, however, was answered almost immediately after she had thought it.

"Only you can decide your fate, young one. Choose the right path."

"I..." The scene faded, and Israfel was once more captivated by the God of the Spark who stood before her. Time returned to normal, she noted, but the current motion of the world around them did nothing to match the whirlwind of confusion and fear that wrested within her breast. Panic, fear, anger, uncertainty, and guilt fought for supremacy, and in the end, only one truly stood out: humility.

Vermillion eyes lowered from the God of the Spark's magnificent form, and her head lowered. The message was clear; change, or die.

"... I understand," she murmured, her voice trembling, and it was with growing embarrassment that Israfel noticed that it wasn't only her voice which quaked, but her entire body as well. What she had seen would scar her for quite some time, she knew. Hesitantly her gaze flicked to that of the Time God, lowering once more before speaking. Should she apologize? Would he welcome those words? Swallowing thickly, Israfel took yet another step back, wings lowered and cradled close around her barrel in a sick attempt of comforting herself. "I... I'm sorry, to have... Spoken out of line. I... Thank you, for your..." Warning? Vision? Chastise of a spoiled, rotten brat? Is that what she was? Yes, she realized with growing humility. It was. "... For your insight. I understand."