There's a moment of hesitation before he answers, an expression that might almost be uncertainty crossing his features. It's not that he seeks to hide what he is. The opportunity for that has most definitely passed. Rather, it's a question of word choice. 'Divine' is something he'd usually reserve for God and Him alone. The relationship between him and his Father has never been so strained, however, and he was viceroy of Heaven for long enough, wasn't he?

It's close enough.

"Michael. I'm an archangel, if that's what you're asking. Who exactly is"—he pauses for a moment and tilts his head, remembering and trying to parse the words of staticky prayer that wasn't intended for him—"Sankt Demyan?"

He's familiar with all the major Saints, or at least all of the ones likely to receive directed prayer in his own world, but Demyan doesn't ring a bell.