As the swarm draws near, the group huddles together and Azreal casts his pile of rocks illusion spell.
The angels descend upon the area, their tendrils of light illuminating the shadows they cast with an eerie golden glow.
They first converge on the spots where the other angels had fallen, not specifically where the heads were, but then a few of them begin to collect the pieces while the rest hover above the ground, searching for signs of life.
Occasionally a scream can be heard, presumably a peasant who did not flee the area quickly enough. The sky is no longer visible to the party, as they look up all they can see is a dense cover of angels.
The angels who were collecting bits of their fallen comrades lift off and leave, and the party can see that the angels took everything. The shards of the broken sword, the small lumps of metal from the one angel's mask, everything.
Crush, in a moment of absent-mindedness, puts his hand to the hilt of his sword- and is suddenly standing out in the open.
In an impressive show of exactly what it means to possess a hive mind, every single angel present turns its head to look at him.