Adam expression didn't change at all, stuck in a kind of flat, indecipherable stare. Some strange woman talking to him about life, death, and the Apocalypse didn't mean anything, it didn't mean anything. Believing otherwise meant believing that the Cage was in the past and that what she was saying was a real, concrete possibility.

He tilted his head just a touch, a questioning gesture at the same time that her assurances tapped into a deep vein of cynicism.

"Who?" he demanded? "The angels? The ones who started all of this?"

Who else could possibly understand what he'd gone through? Who could explain to him what was happening and why his soul felt like it was trying to devour itself like a snake eating its tail? If anyone had all the answers, Adam had yet to meet them.