The second eyebrow lifts to join the first as he takes in his brother's stance. Lucifer himself is the epitome of careless negligence, hands haphazardly tucked in his pockets like he'd been in the middle of a casual stroll through a park before he'd stopped to chat.

"But poor little Michael's still stuck in the cage, isn't he?" Clicking his tongue, Lucifer shakes his head in mock disappointment. He may not have experienced the future, but he's listened to what the others have said. The Winchesters win. He gets locked away again, this time in the company of his self-righteous brother. "Guess we'll just have to make do without him."

Which, as far as Lucifer is concerned, is a positive side-effect of being here. No Michael. No Apocalypse. Not yet, anyway. The slow trickle of angels and demons arriving in town hints that that reprieve might be a thing of the past.