Lucifer Morningstar leaned back in his ornate chair, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand as he glanced at the newcomer before him. His crimson eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the figure with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" he mused, his voice carrying a slight hint of amusement. "Another lost soul seeking refuge at this Hotel?"

But as he studied the newcomer closer, Lucifer's amusement gave way to confusion. There was something different about this individual – an aura of purity and innocence that seemed out of place amidst the fiery chaos of Hell.

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken," he began, his tone more serious now, "but you seem to have the wrong address, my friend. Last I checked, we didn't often receive angels at our doorstep."

His brow furrowed in concern, a rare expression for the Lord of Hell. "How in the infernal depths did you end up here?"