Its struggles are inconsequential but they impede their progress, so Illyria releases it accordingly with a brusque flick of her shell's hand.

Its explanation warrants a suspicious look. Dimensional instability is common here in the deepest parts of the Pit. She should have anticipated this. Not only is this no great warrior in the slightest, but it is not even native to this plane. It is a dimensional castoff, one of the many scraps of ephemera ejected into this universe.

How utterly disappointing.

"Become accustomed to this." The God-King indicates the war-torn chaos that the Los Angeles has become. "Hell is angry."