Lute stared at the broken halo sitting on her otherwise empty desk with the same furious expression she'd worn since the Exorcists had retreated in what was supposed to be the Last Extermination. When she wasn't consumed with crushing despair, it felt like every last nerve ending was on fire with her not-so-seething rage. How dare they. How dare sinners even dream of uprising and how dare they fight back when they should have just been destroyed.
Permanently destroyed. Every. Single. One of them.
She knew how the other angels whispered behind her back. She'd come back broken. Down one arm, countless Exorcists, and one leader.
One friend.
Bitter tears welled up in her eyes as her fingers wrapped around the halo, which felt so cool in her grasp. What had once been luminous was now dull. This was what Hell did. It ruined whatever touched. It ruined everything.
And they were going to pay.
"Moping doesn't become you, Lute."
The deep, admonishing voice startled Lute from her revenge reverie and she almost dropped the halo in her shock, setting it down to the side quickly and standing at attention. "Sir! I didn't know you were back," she nearly stammered, but steeled herself. Adam was gone, but there was still work to be done. "What can I do for you?"
The tall robed figure stepped over to the desk and slid a folded piece of paper across it, "I need you to put together a team of your best Exorcists. They should be brutal, efficient, and most of all discreet. This mission is off-the-books and need-to-know only. Understand." The last word should have been a question but instead was spoken as a statement. A command.
"Of course, Sir!" Lute said immediately, picking up the paper and studying it, "I can put Leftie on it, she's my right-hand man. What's the mission?"
"There's a rogue soul in Hell. I want you to find it." The figure leaned over the desk and it took all of Lute's self-control to not shrink away. "And destroy it."