She skips back out of the way.

"You done?"

"...not paid enough for this shit," it grunts eventually. "Done."

The "traditionalist" angel, looking through the broken window, nods. "I apologize for inflicting this vermin's company upon you. I imagined the Magus Gate on your brow proof of your competence to subdue him, but I generally prefer not to involve bystanders in my conflicts."

"And what is this conflict about, exactly?"

"The servitor's employer is a pimp and drug-lord. I pursue him for the crime of embezzlement, but also for enslaving young women. Which is not a crime, but is distasteful to me."

"Fair enough! Good luck with that."

Nod.

Then, with a blur of speed, the angel vanishes.

Alice's angel nods approvingly. "As traditionalists go, that is, I think, a good one."

"Seems to be," she agrees.

Then she sighs.

"If people are going to take this thing," she gestures at her forehead, "as proof of my competence, I should probably become competent with it. Suggestions, recommendations, helpful cultural context notes?"

Her angel considers the question.

"There are many who know the operation of a Magus Gate. If yours was granted to you by a Demiurge, you would have a ready trainer in them, or in one of their other minions. However, given your... apparent lack of connection to any such... I will give you a piece of trivia, gratis. There is one living being in all of Creation who once stole a Key of Kings and yet lives. Her name of common use is Ciocie Cioelle. She is a devil, employed by the brothel of Preem Praman Nand, Lord Androsphinx of the Gilded Cage, in Hell 71 of Throne."

"Thanks, I appreciate it. And how might I get there, without already knowing how to use my shiny new teleportation powers?"

"You might take the bus. - hmm. Ordinarily I would not consider this part of my duties as translator, but if you allow me to witness your conversation with the devil then I will help you negotiate Throne's public transit system. I am rather curious what she might say."

"Sounds good to me," she says cheerfully.

The "bus stop" isn't far. It turns out to be less of a bus and more the shambling carcass of a skyscraper-god, driven by a team of devils. Assorted devils and aliens, already perched on the god-corpse, stare at her as the angel helps her board.

"27 Impassive Auditor Considers the Wicked," murmurs her angel, seemingly apropos of nothing. "- my name. I am a Knight of the Geas."

"I have no idea what that means," she murmurs cheerfully back. "Do you go in for nicknames at all?"

"You may refer to me as Auditor if you choose," Auditor says. "I would prefer if you did not call me Wicked."

"My first instinct was gonna be Considers, but Auditor works!"

"Considers would also be fine."

The angel pauses. "A Knight of the Geas has abandoned their place in the world, seeking instead to do some thing - to undertake a quest. Sometimes these quests are limited in scope, though they are never casual - to pluck a petal from the Golden Lotus which grew only in a dead world, or to slay a great evil. Other times, they are more... broad. My quest was to render aid to those lost in the city of Throne - they told me that I would know, when my quest was at its end." He shifts almost imperceptibly. "This I have done since the death of Metatron, he who Zoss slew. From whose head the Ruling King wrenched the True Names of God."

He bows his head. "I do not hate my quest. But... AL-YISUN, even a stone wears away."

It has occurred to her that Considers shortens to Sid, at least in English, and now she is fighting a fierce internal battle on the subject. There's a longish pause before she says, sympathetic and slightly wry, "Been at it a while, huh?"

Nod. "A while."

This confession having been made, Sid appears content to pass the trip's remainder in silence, if Alice has no further questions.

She is content to gaze at the scenery in a companionable, or at least only mildly awkward, silence.

The scenery consists largely of more godcorpses, but they vary enough that it makes for an interesting vista anyway.

They fetch up at Hell 71 after about twenty minutes of the bus trudging through the mists. Sid alerts her to this and accompanies her off the bus.

"I recommend you stay close by me," he says. "And do not accept anything offered freely."

She nods thoughtfully and follows.

Many things are offered in the next few minutes, as they stride into and through an indoor market. "Young pree! Pickled bog devil - you will bear strong sons! Cheap for young pree!" "Manterian blood wine, be pleased to enjoy it, mistress -"

A woman eating a bowl of noodles glances at Alice as she passes by, and inclines her head inquisitively. There's a moment of - not quiet, but stillness - as if the sound around them isn't so much less as less important.

"Girl - what do you think about death?" she asks quietly.

"Broadly against, why do you ask?"

The woman cracks a smile. "Reach heaven by violence, then. - it is a habit of mine to seek wisdom in unlikely places. And to make old jokes."

"Have fun with that!" she says cheerfully. "I'm not much for wisdom myself but I can quote you some good ones from a friend of mine if you're in the market for that sort of thing."