Lucifer looks at the approaching monstrosity; feels it, the awful, twisting, brute-force power of it, and after a moment or two there is recognition. This is the thing in the stolen girl-body that he'd fought in a dream once, the useless fight that did nothing but provide him with some understanding of its strength and tactics. It is free now, unshackled by the constraints of a mortal vessel, the little hellish vermin that surround it unable to even make a dent in its defenses. It seems to notice them about as much as a human notices the ants they tread on.

The demons still crowd to attack him; Lucifer pushes with his Grace and they are burned out of existence in a wide radius around him. They are less keen after that.

When he speaks, it isn't with his vessel's voice; it would never be able to go far enough for Illyria to hear him. He speaks as beings like themselves do-- directly, without the middle-man of sound vibrations.

"Well, fancy seeing you here, Illyria the Merciless."