Angels back on Morbit are nasty things. Big ol’ fuckers usually, big enough to loom over people. How much bigger than us, Primus whispers, not wanting to interrupt too much. Oh, way bigger. Too big to even make sense of.
They’re mysterious, Lover continues. Beasts of unimaginable knowledge, they may as well see people like bugs. Like dust, even. Not even gods know where they came from, because they sure as hell didn’t make them.