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He had wanted to die as an angel. He has no idea what to do with a second chance.
Post-5B, Michael just want to be left alone but with his powers spinning out of control, that's not going to happen. Exiled and cornered, he has little choice but to begin to saunter vaguely upwards.
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“It’s a job. I’m good at it. We’re getting good at it.”
Michael nods towards the sloppily parked car, the weapons on the ground. “You feel like you belong somewhere.”
“That obvious, huh?” Eve scrunches up her face.
“Yeah.” He stretches his legs that are stiff and hopeless but better, somehow, less numb with the pain he’s been overwhelmed by ever since his defeat. “With all your knowledge, you could do almost anything.”
"The thing about finally feeling like you belong," she says, glancing at him. "Is that once you have it, you don’t want to trade it."
He shrugs. "You'd still belong to you."
Eve looks puzzled for a moment, then she gives a small, surprised laugh. "Sometimes you’re so much like Luce."
Michael can’t hold back a groan. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
Eve laughs again, brighter this time.