The vessel is always in tune with its respective angel and vice versa.

Lucifer knew exactly where his vessel was, he knew the place that it was in. Michael's vessel bunker, there was no other place for them to be.

The problem was, he had no idea where it was.

He had been there, stayed there for a few days when his father and he worked together to try to destroy the Darkness. He remembered walking the halls and he remembered leaving.

And that was the problem, the moment he left he immediately forgot where he had been and where the hunters had made their station. Even if he took himself apart to the mere molecules he wouldn't be able to name even the state that the place was in.

But he had one benefit, he was always and intimately connected to his vessel. It's his, the one gift that he won't deny himself of from his father, made and crafted specifically for him.

His and his alone.

His father had created a mess of beings, these simple minded, sheep that he considered above them for some reason. Walking among them did nothing to change his mind. They were sinful things that only cared about themselves, burying themselves in indulgences and transgressions.

The only one worth a single thing was his vessel, the rest could rot.

He could feel the vessel through the wards, not as much as he should be able to but enough. Enough to feel the barest bit of emotions and thoughts.

And just enough to be able to whisper into its ear.

He couldn't really control the words or what he was saying. All he could do was press his grace as much as he could through the wardings and feed off of whatever emotions his vessel was feeling. He could feel the distrust and the fear rolling off of him almost physically.

So he fed off of that, letting his grace seep into his vessel as much as he could despite feeling the pushing back of the wards. Whenever he tried to push back, trying to force his way past the runes it shot back, pain filtering through his being.

So he took another vessel, and then another, and another. He burned through them quickly but the added disability of temporarily having a human body helped him to push past them, let him just add a bit more of himself into the whispers into his vessel's ears.

He wasn't sure what the vessel's problems were and he didn't care, anything that made that fear and uncertainty grow was good enough for him. Anything to get the vessel to leave that lair and out of the wards so that Lucifer could finally get to it.

He just needed time, time to whisper enough into the vessel's head, time to pull it away from everything until all it could turn to was him.

He'd make sure of it.

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Short but to the point.