"Zombie ghost guy? He's so basic. What's the point in sending them after their loved ones like that?" If Michael sounds a little distracted, it's because he's watching bits of Tyzias's soul just fall off. Yeah, that hate seed's gotta come out now.

...he hesitates, though. Screwing with her soul, even to help, is making him feel unaccountably squeamish. He knows how easily they can break, and this is one time when he actually doesn't want that. Maybe just yanking it out is a bad idea.

Michael gathers his essence thoughtfully. He could always consume it. In another time and place he might've been scavenging the healthy bits of her soul right now; it'd be just like that, only picking away at a kernel of another daemon's magic instead. Now that he's trying not to be completely evil, he doesn't have that many avenues to build his power back up anymore. Can't eat souls, probably shouldn't make any more Contracts. But stealing strength from another daemon is common enough in the Outlands, and he can't think of any objections the humans might have. Suuuure, it's a nugget of concentrated murderous hate, but he's a daemon! That's like, their whole thing!

"Hey, this might be weird," he says off-handedly, before surrounding the hate seed and attempting to absorb it himself.