Lucifer was tittering again and Michael had found himself glancing in his direction, something that was a mistake as the hallucination took the opportunity to taunt him and remind him that he was actually staring at an empty table and everyone was going to notice. He frowned and instead of engaging, he turned his eyes back to Crowley.
"Then it sounds like you ought to do the wise thing and avoid all three." He said dryly, resting his hand on the empty glass but leaving it intact for now. "The Winchesters, the Antichrist and these new angels could choose to make your life difficult with very little provocation, if not cut it short completely." Michael liked to think he was kinder about it all, if there was nothing to be gained from something he found abhorrent he would generally end it, not play around with it like his brothers were often tempted to do. He wasn't sure if Crowley would agree, he knew Gabriel had often pitched a bit of a fit when he put pragmatism ahead of compassion, or hedonism depending on Gabriel's mood.
"Keep your head down, carve out your own little part of Preya without giving me, or them, reason to come after you, and you'll be fine. I imagine that's a hard pill to swallow for the former King of Hell," Said the archangel who had gone from overseeing all of creation, to being trapped in a cage, to being an over-qualified hall monitor. "But pride can be mended, and your name isn't Winchester so death might very well stick for you."
He wasn't sure how death worked here but he was fairly certain it worked the same, souls could likely find their way to where they were headed even if they were all stuck.
After a soft clearing of his throat he looked down at the glass under his hand. "On my end, you seem to have a free pass. I don't have the energy I used to, even with a transfusion from my brother. But I grow stronger as the days pass, I would urge you to get whatever upsetting things you wish to do out of your system now while I don't have the strength and short temper to deal with it."