Behind the mask, the malak's brows furrow. That's the last thing he'd expected to hear. "It... isn't a sacrifice," he replies tentatively, "When nothing of value is lost."

It's what he knows to be true, what the weight on his soul tells him again and again. There aren't unlimited malakhim, but there are fewer exorcists with enough resonance to act as vessels. As a tool, he's prepared for the inevitable end he's likely to face. His life doesn't matter to him, so why should it matter to an exorcist?