It was always odd, feeling such a sudden shift in a presence that had been so steady for six thousand years before. It caught him like a hook in his chest, grappling for hold, pulling him towards the place where he was only vaguely aware that he would find Raphael.

He opened the door slowly to find not one but two of his fellow archangels. Their presence seemed to burst upon him, filling his senses like smoke unseen, heavy and almost blinding after days with naught but Belial's muted aura.

"Raphael, Michael." The words had a heavy familiarity on his tongue, and for a moment, there seemed nothing else in all the ages to say.

"Is everything all right?" he finished, casting a cautious glance about the room.