It was amazing, how much difference Gabriel and Raphael had made in such a short span of time. Michael could track those changes, even with no firsthand knowledge of what this group of friends had been like before. Secrets revealed and accepted cleansed the souls of everyone involved, like a thunderstorm cleared the humidity in the air. And redemption had a colour all its own, a mixture of bright gold and silver, and it could light up a soul like nothing else. Solomon Wreath's soul was bathed in it.

"Not the same way they did," answered Michael, gesturing toward the Labrador and the kitten. It was how he could manage it at all; rather than spend months lost in a Cacophany of noise like Lucifer assumed was necessary, Michael had immediately set about to finding a faster way. And find it, he did. All paths led to Heaven, after all.

"Just now," he added, stepping closer to the makeshift fort. "Yes. Of course. And, again, of course, but..." He smiled, and gave a shrug that might have been casual if he hadn't just told Solomon that they were in danger. "I don't think it's my place to interfere. You'll have to wait for someone with a phone to wake up, and that should be any minute now."