[ She'd anticipated more of a struggle from him, a coughed up explanation, something. Even in the worst of her (unnatural) mood, the rebuttal hits her like a splash of cold water, dousing enough of her temper that her grip loosens around his throat. ]

...

[ Archangels such as herself were designed to obey orders, but Lucilius never bothered to stifle their questions—only insisted they asked better ones, or refrain from asking at all. Her head hurts, chest pounding with excess anger and turmoil. Voice quieting to a murmur, she releases him carefully, hand lingering at his pulse before she pulls away. ]

Lucilius.

[ Ah, it's really him. (How long it's been... and what a regrettable way to greet him.) Her head bows deferentially, weariness seeping back into her bones now that her outburst has passed. After a troubled silence, she offers an apology and his requested report, albeit one bruised neck too late. ]

...I was brought to this realm from Pandemonium. I've not been awake long enough to scout the new skies.

[ She awaits his next directive, undecided but unflinching. ]