Although Death had been in control when they went to sleep, Morana was in control when they woke up.  She was still angry at the insults given her, but Death had managed to convince her that the angels were more important than any personal grudges.  She dressed quickly, wearing cargo pants, a black tank top, and dark boots.  An outfit in which she could move silent and unseen.
Carefully stowing her weapons in their various holsters, she went through a quick workout to ensure that they were all secure in their places.  Morana went downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing a pear for breakfast.  She arrived just in time to hear Griffin tell them to go to the armory.  His words reminded her of one of the things that she had heard last night.  Perhaps she would be able to arm herself with weapons that could kill angels.