"Oh," says Asmodia in surprise. She'd already picked up on the possibility that she might not be looking at a true human, but she wasn't expecting that she would be a being 'made' for planar travel. And, too, if she's built for traversing the planes and yet doesn't recognize what Asmodia is, she must be from an entirely different kind of universe. Does that mean that not every universe has a Hell and Abyss? The thought is both encouraging in its specificity and disquieting in its larger implications regarding the other planes that might also be absent from the schema. "I must be," she agrees, but leaves it at that. 'Species' might not be the correct term, but she's decided by now that she's perfectly content to allow the people she meets in this world to believe she's simply a member of some alien race should they leap to that conclusion.

"Made?" she asks, troubled by it. "You don't belong to your pilot, do you? He doesn't make you do things?"