One of those many doors throughout the bunker leads into a room that's not supposed to be there. The lighting within is foggy and dim, the edges of the room lost somewhere behind the purple and magenta haze—and the way out is quick to disappear along with those borders.

Michael had not intended to visit this space any more than Castiel has. The stack of old televisions holds his attention for a moment, some of the footage that's playing appearing familiar to him, but he's quick to recognize the presence of another angel.

His head snaps towards Castiel the moment he steps through the threshold, his eyes narrowing. He's been haunted by visions of the dead for near on a week now, but none of those phantoms had felt quite so present.

"Castiel. Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

He casts a wary glance towards the other's hands. Though Castiel is as prone to disastrous decision-making as the rest of his younger siblings are when left without guidance, experience has proven it's a mistake to dismiss him. Castiel is both capable and brazen. There are very few in Heaven who would have had the nerve to talk back to him, let alone show him the kind of disrespect Castiel has in the past.