"It's worse than it sounds," she scoffs softly, shaking her head. "Not easily," she admits wryly. "The Entities mark people, draw them in, give the darker parts of the person they're infecting purpose. For me, it was my anger, with The Slaughter." She still hears the music, sometimes, but it's faint, a distant memory of a song she can't quite remember like she should. She misses it more than she'd like to admit.

"Angels. Huh..." She doesn't sound doubtful or skeptical at all, just some mix of curious and confused by the idea of it. They certainly weren't real in where she was from, near as she knew. She supposes if they were, they'd have interfered with the non-God-given Apocalypses.