Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lucian had always known that he’d be going to Hell when he died.

It wasn’t something that ever bothered him, pretty much everyone from the city was guaranteed the same future. Actually, humanity itself has had thousands of years to make peace with that future. Ever since God had abandoned them, taking his angels with him to who-knows-where, the only ones who remained behind to care for humanity had been the Fallen Morningstar and his followers. That, combined with how Sinners were often the ones being sent to tend to the needs of the mortals (which often included deals that bound said mortals to The Morningstar’s realm anyway), naturally meant that Hell was the only realm for souls to go after death. 

But when Lucian envisioned Hell, this wasn’t what he had in mind. 

It didn’t look like he’d found himself in an entire realm, it looked like he was standing in a single room. A large room, and a strange one to be sure, but still just a room. 

The floor looked to be made of some type of marble. Porcelain white coated the majority of its surface, though gold and silver highlights worked together to craft designs in the center. He didn’t recognize the meaning behind the symbol the colors were obviously trying to bring attention to, though he didn’t know if that was due to a lack of overall knowledge in that department or if it was because stars, just generally speaking, could mean multiple different things depending on who else was involved in its creation. He supposed there might be some significance in how this wasn’t merely a five-pointed star, but an eight-pointed star, and how that eight-pointed star sat inside of two layers of circles that could be mistaken as a thick halo if you really wanted to push it. 

But other than that? There was nothing overtly unique that could tie this symbol to any single being in particular. 

Sitting on the star—just a foot or so from where Lucian first woke up, actually—was an incomplete gold statue. At least, it looked incomplete. Whoever the figure was meant to be, they were missing their head. And Lucian had to account for the position their arms were in: raised as if trying to grab something, with their hands cupped as if they should already be holding something. What that something was could be left up to the imagination of the beholder. But the point was, there was just the general air that some things were missing. 

Unless being incomplete was part of the aesthetic? Lucian hasn’t seen any pieces that fit this description himself, but The Morningstar worked hard to provide humanity with a series of pictures that captured how certain eras from their past embraced capturing specific parts of the human form in their art instead of forcing everything together in a vain pursuit of perfection. 

Regardless of what the artist was going for, Lucian still had to tip his hat to them. What parts of the body were there were finely detailed. The fingers and toes were given accurate nails and creases; the legs and arms had certain muscles bulging out that helped enhance the 3D aspect of the statue; the torso had a noticeable series of lines that depicted their breast bones, rib cage, and all manner of ways skin could be pulled when someone reached up; and the six wings at the back had individual feathers. Individual feathers on what looked to be a pure gold statue! Now, that was dedication to one’s craft right there. 

Following the statue’s metaphorical line of sight, Lucian was then faced with an open, vast expanse of empty space. And he meant that literally. Save for the line of silver circles floating just inches above the ground in a dome formation, the background was just black. Lucian couldn’t see into it; he couldn’t see past it! It was quite unsettling to look at for too long, so he turned the other way and hoped it gave him something more . 

On the other side of the room, a pair of tall double-doors took center stage against the otherwise grey/silver-ish wall. The main surface was red, with gold bordering the edges and splitting the doors down the center. Sitting near the bottom was a large circle. The gold bordering around it was different compared to the gold around the door. Instead of just sticking to a straight line, there were protrusions sticking out from the circle; as if it was trying to mimic artistic views of the sun’s rays, or maybe even a fancy sunflower. Meanwhile, the circle itself had a unique glow to it. It was as if Lucian was staring into molten lava, with a single piece of…coal?...rock?....obsidian?...sitting in the very center, acting like a pupil would in an eye. 

Behind the door—or above it, it was hard to tell from Lucian’s position—the outline of a being towered over the red and gold entrance. The details were fairly scarce, which wasn’t surprising for something that needed to be carved into a wall. The head was quite round, with a somewhat pointed chin and a pronounced jawline. The facial expression was limited to some fairly large eyes and a wide smile, along with some dots on the cheeks that may have hinted that this was meant to be a supernatural being (mortals didn’t have dots as obvious as that). No nose, no eyebrows, and no ears. The hair was a bit better, there were certain strands that were more obvious in how they stuck out compared to the rest, and an almost triangular shaped body that had been oddly placed. It was as if the artist was trying to angle it so it looked like the triangle tip was pointing backwards, but couldn’t because the wall didn’t let them get away with such a complicated perspective. 

But from what Lucian could see of the basic body the being had been given, it was obvious that the being was meant to be Divine. The six wings sprouting along their sides was a good first indicator, as were the various symbols sprinkled around them, placed in such a manner that it looked like the being had just cast a spell. 

Admittedly, the large top hat was a bit misleading when Lucian first looked at it, but it only took him a second or two to notice the crown sitting on the brim. There were no jewels or crystals; no intricate carvings or demonic symbols; no additional designs that could signify the specific rank of the being wearing the crown. Only a creature, one that Lucian presumed to be a snake since—the last time he checked—worms didn’t have jawlines that could be so easily seen (if they had any at all). Nor do they have very recognizable fangs. 

It was carved in such a way that only the tail and the head were technically visible, but Lucian knew enough about art and perspectives to understand that the designer was probably just trying to make it look like the snake was wrapped around the top hat it currently rested on. 

Along the wall, a handful of banners hung from what portion of the ceiling was still visible; three on each side of the door. Lucian recognized the figures sewn into the banners immediately: the Overlords of Pride Ring, the ones who maintained order and balance between the mortal souls and the rest of Hell’s population. They acted as humanity’s spokes-demons; representatives, and proof that The Morningstar truly did believe in humanity’s potential to be more than animals in a zoo, as Heaven would have them live as. 

To the right of the door, a portrait of Alastor, the Radio Demon, stared into the empty air. As was hinted by his name, he was revered among humans as the one who transmitted important information from The Morningstar himself to the surviving mortals on Earth—in the same way radios once transmitted information from the host to the audience. 

He wasn’t said to be seen in person often. In fact, if memory served Lucian correctly, it was widely understood that he hasn’t actually stepped foot back on Earth ever since humanity had regained its footing following God’s sudden abandonment. He had only ever been sent to the mortal plane to reassure humanity in the first place. To speak to them on The Morningstar’s behalf, to tell them that the Fallen Angel would take care of what was left of them following Heaven’s dismantling—both in life and in death. 

Supposedly, The Morningstar (no longer restricted by Heaven’s forces) had attempted to recreate a Garden of Eden sanctuary to act as a makeshift Heaven for mortal souls that didn’t commit any particularly atrocious sins during their time on Earth. It was a comforting thought for many, as the Radio Demon had intended before leaving them in the care of their self-sufficiency and his fellow Overlords. Never to be seen in person for the next thousands of years. 

These days, nobody took offense to it. Unless The Morningstar had future messages specifically for them, the deer-like Sinner had no other reason to return on the mortal plane. It was just functional.

To the Radio Demon’s left hung Zestial, the Keeper of Humanity’s Archives and one of the oldest Sinners to survive in Hell’s Pride Ring. Contrary to his eerie appearance, Lucian knew many of the city’s elders to be quite fond of him. It was like there was a certain, unspoken standard that demanded they pay proper homage to someone who’s walked the Earth for as long as Zestial has. It was one thing for a supernatural being to survive for so long, that was to be expected, but a mortal soul? That seemed more rare, and Zestial brought forth knowledge from the human perspective with his survival. Which, when dealing with still-living humans, made a big difference than if people were to be honored with The Morningstar’s Divine presence or that of the Dominions. 

To the Keeper’s left hung the last banner of that side; Sir Pentious, the Great Engineer. He had an odd appearance compared to the other figures on the banners. Why; one might even mistake him for an angel if he were to stand alone. His coloring was certainly lighter, and he sported hearts in his design over anything remotely plain or intimidating or ‘ hip ’. No one knew why that was for certain, but a popular rumor that circled its way around was that Sir Pentious had sided with The Morningstar when God left, refusing to abandon his fellow man when they would need assistance the most. 

He was right to make such a call. Following God’s departure, and prior to humanity’s rebuild (an effort that Sir Pentious had a heavy hand in, mind you), a devastating corruptive presence had bathed Earth in a cloud of pure chaos. Destruction rained down in storms, unchained demons and even tainted angels wandering the grounds and killing everything in sight—whether it be a human, or each other. Oppressive magic replaced the air, dragging those who gave into its seductive whispers into a pit so deep and so dark that not even The Morningstar could travel to it unscathed. Worst of all, a figure the Radio Demon had given name to—Roo, the Root of Evil—had found her way to Earth. 

Defenseless against her, she had been left to roam free until The Morningstar had interfered. Although successful in driving her away, the damage she had managed to inflict during her stay was still immense. Not to mention the creatures she still managed to corrupt and send after humans in her absence. Humanity surely would have perished, as a species, within the next few years or so had they not received Divine assistance. 

Sir Pentious had been a gift to the mortals from The Morningstar once Roo had been pushed a safe distance away from their plane (Lucian didn’t know where such a place was, and he didn’t want to know either). His way around machinery and his inspiration for the more inquisitive nature in humanity had seen cities rebuilt in a matter of years, and communities prospering supposedly better than when God and his angels took a more hands-off approach to ‘ shepherding ’ humanity. 

On the other side of the red door, a banner that contained the portrait of Rosie, the Cannibal Queen, rested peacefully against the wall. Her smile was nearly as wide as the Radio Demon’s, but there was a certain peace to hers that Lucian just couldn’t foresee in the Radio Demon’s expression. 

Much like the Radio Demon, she wasn’t often seen on Earth or to be interacting with living souls. Lucian always assumed that it had to do with her namesake; she was the very literal leader of a colony of souls who’d abandoned a ‘ regular ’ diet and relied on meat, the meat of their fellow once-humans at that. Even if the Cannibal Queen was revered for her reputation as one of the first Sinners to successfully create and maintain order in a well-populated community when Hell was still at its most disorganized, there was just something scary about calling forth a cannibal when the summoner was still a living human. There was always the concern that they’d need to remain cautious, lest they want the Cannibal Queen to take a bite out of them while she was visiting. 

To the Cannibal Queen’s right was Carmilla Carmine, more formally known as Pride’s Spear. Lucian was one of the many people who were quite confused on how she obtained such a title when the Radio Demon had once spoken of the Dominion of Wrath, Satan, acting as The Morningstar’s High Order General. He was the demon who commanded legions of Hellborn and took to the front lines at the Fallen Angel’s command when the more powerful remnants of Roo needed to be cleared from the Earth. 

So, did that mean that Pride’s Spear was meant to be his successor? Or did she mainly tend to matters concerning the Pride Ring, where souls wound up after their death? Lucian could foresee there being cases where conflict erupted between the Sinners and the Hellborn, or even Sinners putting themselves against other Sinners. Perhaps she focused on situations like that, and she had no duties that concerned themselves with living mortals as the Radio Demon or Sir Pentious might. If that was the case, it would explain why she was specifically ‘ Pride’s ’ spear, but all of that was just an assumption on Lucian’s end. He’d never been in a position where he needed or wanted to summon any of the Overlords, so it wasn’t like he could just ask them about the inner details of their power.

Would they even answer him if he tried? Probably not. He had no place knowing when he was just one of the many souls who would fall under someone’s care as soon as he got to Hell. And that was fine with him. 

The last banner portrayed Zeezi, the Beastkin—Guardian of the Non-Human Life on Earth—and humanity’s first teacher in the art of the hunt. Hundreds of pages in classic history books and research papers have been dedicated to telling her story; of recalling how she had been sent to teach the humans how to be the predator after recovering from being prey during Roo’s crusade. 

The Morningstar had wanted humanity to learn to be self-sufficient again, so the Beastkin had been instructed to guide them through the mindset of proper hunters. Not only so they could gather meat for themselves—all of which came from animals that The Morningstar would bless them with each year—but also so they had a chance at defending themselves in case remnants of Roo ever returned. Even if they wouldn’t defeat her or her minions, they could buy themselves enough time until the Overlords, the Dominions, or The Morningstar arrived to save them. 

It was just after Lucian had finished going through what he knew about Overlord Zeezi did he realize something. If the Overlords were the figures sewn into the banners, and the banners had clearly been placed close to the red door, then that must have meant that the figure carved into the wall behind the door was…was…

“The Morningstar…” Lucian whispered out loud. It was only an assumption on his part, but one that made so much sense when he thought about it more. For what other reason would The Morningstar’s faithful lords and ladies be on the banners, if not to help announce his royal presence? Not to mention his wings, the symbols around him, the crown on his hat, and the snake wrapped around it. That snake was one of the forms The Morningstar was most known for in the context of his interactions with humanity!

Gah! How did it take Lucian so long to notice?! He should have put all of those smaller details together the minute he recognized the portraits on the banners.  

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh-!”

“It’s so good to see that there are still those who refuse to take The Lord’s name in vain.” 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“He’s arrived.” 

“W-wait…really? Are…are you sure?!” 

“More than sure, dear girl. I felt his soul leave Earth. He should be visiting Sera right about now.” 

“...I still hate that he has to go through her to end up with us, Aunt Eve.” 

“I know, my dear, I know. But…Alastor’s plan has yet to fail in returning Lucifer’s soul to Hell’s custody. So long as that remains, we’ll just have to grin and bear our way through Sera’s schemes. Won’t we, Charlie?

Chapter Text

Whipping around, Lucian nearly fell flat on his ass in his haste to see who had just spoken. He could swear that when he first appeared in this mysterious room, he had been alone. Had someone else appeared while he was distracted in admiring the banners? Possibly, but even then, surely he’d hear them or at least get a sense that he was no longer on his own. 

Surely?

Humans may not have had supernatural powers, but anyone on Earth would tell you that tapping into your self-awareness often meant the difference between life and death. Especially if you lived the life Lucian once lived as a Sentinel; regular citizens relied on them to keep Roo’s remnants at bay, and a big part of that job was more about what you felt, not what you saw or what you heard. A corruptive presence like Roo could never truly hide when she relied on seducing victims to her, after all. 

Lucian felt absolutely nothing, even now that he knew he wasn’t completely alone. So, either he was slipping or this wasn’t a regular being. Neither of those options sounded particularly good.

“Who are you?” He brought his hands up as he faced his potential opponent, fists just an inch or so below his chin as his stance automatically adjusted to something more stable (he couldn’t be getting clumsy now). 

The being he came face-to-face with was a woman. A remarkably tall one, at that. She had to be nine feet at the least, with thick grey hair that fell below her waistline. Holy fuck…what a thin waistline it was. Geez, with how slim she was, Lucian was inclined to think she must be a supernatural being based on that alone. No human would survive being that thin; there was no way their bodies would be getting enough nutrients. And he was saying that as someone who had never grown to be particularly tall or developed any heavy muscle mass (no matter how much work he put into getting stronger for his duty). 

The dress she wore looked ragged and worn out. It was caked in various shades of grey, which hinted that while it may have been a certain (potentially brighter) color once upon a time, it’s clearly been put through the ringer to be as dirty as it was now. There were a few tears here and there, but they were mostly at the bottom of the dress, where one might expect to find such things if the dress has always been too long or was just old enough to carry such damage. The handful of tears not located at the bottom were restricted to the first layering of the skirt portion; chunks of fabric had clearly been torn off by…something, or someone…and never repaired. 

As she gazed down at him, Lucian could easily make out the tiredness in her gaze. The blue, while first appearing dark, had a haunted shadow that invaded the sclera. And her pupils darted frantically around the room even as she focused down on him, as if she was expecting someone to barge into the room and attack them. Stress lines had also hardened themselves into her forehead and the upper half of her cheeks, cutting through a small cluster of greyish dots that resembled human freckles. 

It was a familiar expression to him, in an uncomfortable way. You ran into all sorts of people when your job asked you to venture beyond the city’s walls; many of whom had seen so much horror in their mortal life that euthanasia looked kind in comparison to forcing them to live through the resulting trauma. 

Had this been someone Lucian presumed to be a mortal soul, he’d think they were one of the many unlucky wanderers who’s city had been ravaged by some of Roo’s remnants. Left to try to make a living on their own, only to succumb to the very creatures who first stole their home. Or, on the flip side, they could have been someone who’d been driven out because they were charged with a heinous crime. 

But something was fighting that assumption. There was just this…this sensation, this…this gut feeling…that the woman before him wasn’t a mortal soul. She wasn’t a Sinner, she wasn’t ever human; she wasn’t like him. It wasn’t something Lucian could explain, it was something that poked at the back of his mind until his suspicion felt less justified and more angry. 

“What do you want from me?” 

“At ease, young one.” A delicate hand came up in a ‘ halt ’ gesture. It did little to soothe away any of Lucian’s concerns. If anything, it actually annoyed him more that this woman thought she could sneak up on him and then try to placate him in such a patronizing way. “I mean you no harm. I’m only interested in speaking with you.” 

“Are you?” Lucian still found her entire presence to be unsettling, mostly because (again) he hadn’t been able to detect her whenever she first entered. And to immediately jump to wanting to speak to him instead of joining him in wondering what this place was? Or being suspicious of him in return? Call him crazy, but he was getting the impression that she knew what was going on with that type of reaction. Additionally, if he were working off of that assumption, the odds were that she wanted more than she let on and was only trying to butter him up with a facade of gentleness. He knew better than to voice such petty displeasure too early on though, he still needed to learn who this was. 

Slowly, he forced his fists to loosen and brought them down. It would be stupid to leave himself completely open, so they only came down to his chest before he crossed his arms over it. His stance remained firm, prepared should he either need to stand his ground or push off to leap away and put some distance between him and this strange woman. 

“Then please, feel free to speak your mind.” Lucian nodded his head towards her in invitation. It felt stiffer than he would have preferred, given the picture he was trying to sell, but there was no outward sign that the person he was trying to fool was bothered by it.

Quite the opposite. Her body seemed to sink just slightly, like she was getting ready to relax at the same time that a tight, sincere smile pulled at her lips. An expression that was simultaneously honest and strained was, as a rule that Lucian had for himself, generally something to be wary of. Why go to the trouble of putting on an act when you have nothing to hide? But at this point, he couldn’t just jump on that. Everything about this mysterious woman had screamed ‘ suspicious! ’ from the moment he laid eyes on her, and adding details as to why he suddenly got bad feelings from her presence only held the potential to give him a headache, not answers. 

“My name is Sera.” As ‘ Sera ’ spoke, the distance between them seemed to shrink. Lucian couldn’t say for certain that she was walking towards him. He couldn’t see any movement from below her waistline—which may have sounded strange, but even people he’s seen wear long skirts or dresses caused some movement for the cloth as their legs carried them wherever they needed to go—and her entire upper half remained the same height. There was no minuscule bob that Lucian associated with taking a step, nor was there any echo of shoes or feet meeting the white floor. 

Was she floating towards him?

Anything that wasn’t still a mortal soul had access to some level of magic, if they didn’t outright have wings. So, the possibility wasn’t far-fetched by any means. 

“And I find myself in dire need of your assistance, Mr. Magne.” 

Mr. Magne, huh?

Alright, so Sera knew his name. That wasn’t the most alarming thing he could run into. Much like with the case of floating, random Sinners or Hellborn knowing the names of living souls could be pretty common. Maybe the Overlord overseeing them interacted with said living soul frequently, or dead relatives talked about them until they were reunited in Hell. Maybe they were just a known face in the community, and their popularity was almost destined to continue in death as it once existed in life. There were so many reasons that could explain why Sera seemed to know his name, and yet, it still somewhat bothered him that she could know much about him when he still knew so little about her. 

Have some patience. 

Lucian chastised himself. 

She’ll reveal what I need soon enough, so long as I continue to ask the right questions. 

“With what?” Lucian allowed Sera to get within arms-reach of him before deciding that she could say whatever she needed to say from over there . When she tried to float(?) an additional inch or so towards him, he backed up until there was a comfortable distance between them again. 

She was smart not to follow him, stopping in her tracks as soon as Lucian stilled again. 

“You see, I’m part of Lord Satan’s high command, and he’s tasked all of us with finding a way to rid Earth of Roo’s presence. Permanently. Or, failing that, to at least minimize any damage she brings further than what The Morningstar has managed so far.”

Lucian wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It was fully believable that their Morningstar would still be working hard to rid humanity of Roo’s destruction once and for all if he thought there was a way to do so. He was the only one who still cared about them. But everything else? Sheesh, Lucian almost felt bad for the sheer awfulness of Sera’s lies. 

If Sera was indeed who she said she was, wouldn’t she know that Satan’s proper title was ‘ General ’, as the Dominion trusted to manage The Morningstar’s military legion? Moreover, the Radio Demon himself had declared that The Morningstar had already done everything he could to rid the mortal plane of Roo’s influence when journeying to the front lines the first time. As proof of his visit, his speech had been written down the day he’d given it and hung in one of the most prominent places in the archives. 

What Sera was saying implied that he had either been lying about that or a new development in Roo’s condition had opened up a potential weakness for The Morningstar to exploit. But if that was the case, wouldn’t the Radio Demon be delivering the news? Not some mysterious stranger none of the mortals knew about?

Also, why would Sera be telling him that when he was already dead? It would be one thing if she brought it up while he was alive, he might be able to actually do something that would make a difference if that was the case. What was he supposed to do when he had no tie to the mortal world anymore? 

What could he do that The Morningstar, his Overlords, or his Dominions couldn’t do? He’d be a relatively new soul in Hell; powerlessness was a guarantee!

But calling Sera out on all of that felt risky, which was quite irksome since it felt like he’d gotten some of the answers he’d originally wanted, but at the price of having more curiosities piled on top of him. Whether he liked it or not, he was technically trapped here until someone else guided him to Hell’s gates. And since Sera seemed like someone who knew more about what was going on than he did, there was a big chance that she could keep him trapped here until she got what she wanted from him. 

His best chance at finding the truth for himself and escaping was going along with her plans. If she proved to be dangerous, then maybe he could figure out a way to sabotage her after she sent him off to do…whatever it was…she needed him to do. He’d be out of her sight, and hopefully out of her mind until he produced results. 

“I see.” Lucian opted for softening his voice, to make himself appear sympathetic. It worked when he was handling the more…delicate…victims his old unit used to run into should their patrols bring them to an innocent survivor, so he hoped it would continue to work here. “And how does that involve me? As a newly deceased, surely I would be too weak to contribute anything meaningful to General Satan’s plans?” 

“Not at all!” Sera rushed to deny him, but her actual words were spoken quite calmly. Her gaze remained steady, and her posture lacked any true alarm even if she was a bit tense. Her voice acting was a bit better, but any panic he could hear couldn’t be so quickly attributed to any nonexistent desperation to deny his uselessness. He had to consider the possibility that she was also just worried her newest pawn would escape her before she could use him. “It is actually your existence as a mortal soul that would benefit Lord Satan greatly.” 

“Ok?” Lucian couldn’t stop his brow from raising. He could only hope that Sera didn’t take it as a sign that he was digging into her too soon. 

What else could he do though? Again, this was just another flat-faced lie. Anyone who’s ever read a history book or interacted with one of the elders (all of whom have had some contact with one, if not many, of the Overlords) would know that General Satan didn’t concern himself with Sinners often. Pride’s Spear was a rare case, and even her position as a potential Sinner-successor continued to be questioned. 

The Morningstar, as per the Radio Demon’s narrative, preferred that the Sinners be managed by other human souls. Hence, the existence of Overlords in the first place. Only in very specific cases did the Hellborn hold authoritative sway over them. What those specific cases were? Lucian didn’t remember off the top of his head, unfortunately. Though, in his defense, Hell’s politics and the way its rulers interacted with each other or with their subjects has had millions of years to build on itself. He was certain that meant that having to evolve based on new needs and developments came with having to organize a complicated set of new norms and expectations. 

“How so?” 

“Well, to answer that, I should start by telling you that the reason The Morningstar hasn’t already completed the task himself is because Roo’s game comes with certain…stipulations.” 

“Game?” 

“Yes.” Sera nodded her head. Her gaze turned stormy, and the downturn of her lips was so forceful that wrinkles creased into her chin. “Following The Morningstar’s success in driving Roo from Earth, their battle continued in the realm where God used to reside. As time passed, and no clear winner showed any signs of emerging, Roo grew bored with the stalemate she and The Morningstar had fallen into. So, she approached him with a proposition: with her powers, she would create an artifact that granted him partial control over her powers. Not enough to take hold of her completely, but enough that it would pique The Morningstar’s interest and raise the current stakes-”

“Alleviating her boredom?” Lucian nodded along, all too willing to believe that. Even if he didn’t fully trust Sera, it wasn’t surprising to him to hear that a seemingly all-powerful being had finally grown bored after years and years of just…existing. Just look at what happened to some humans! He’s known many people who practically craved death once they reached a certain age because of how stagnant Earth felt. They wanted something new, or they just wanted rest. 

(Rest that they may or may not get in Hell. Lucian supposed it depended on if The Morningstar allowed euthanasia in the afterlife.) 

“Correct.” Sera extended one of her arms, gesturing to the headless statue. “ This is the altar she constructed should The Morningstar ever manage to gather all of the necessary pieces for assembling the artifact. Presumably, he would bare all his great magic and force them together to get the final product.” 

Well, that certainly sounded reasonable to expect. It also explained why the statue might be incomplete. Have certain pieces already been found, while others had been blocked from The Morningstar thanks to Roo’s stipulations? There could be a metaphor for why the statue was missing its head, of all things! Or maybe the statue was meant to be like that, but the raised arms signified that the mysterious artifact Sera kept alluding to was supposed to be sitting in those cupped palms? They were in the perfect position for an offering when Lucian thought about it that way. 

Damn, these ideas just came to Lucian without any effort on his part! He didn’t know which one was more likely to be true, if either, but the fact that everything could be so easily explained was making Sera’s tale just the tiniest bit believable. 

However, before she continued with the backstory behind this whole…situation, there was one thing Lucian felt like he needed to clarify, lest he get lost. “Does this artifact have a name? Or is it just ‘ The Artifact’ ?” 

Sera shrugged one shoulder. For a long moment, she didn’t answer, but Lucian didn’t push when he noticed the faraway look in her eye. As brief as it was, Lucian couldn’t possible miss it when Sera didn’t bother to hide it and there was even a distracted air to her tone as she clarified: “Well, technically, she’s molded it to form a ring. One which she has named The Remnant of Heaven.” 

…wait, Heaven?! 

“Heaven? Ugh, how…tacky.” Lucian’s upper lip curled in disgust. As one would imagine, God and his angels abandoning humanity when they needed help the most hasn’t endeared any of the ex-Divine beings to the living mortals. Not to mention those tainted angels that joined Roo’s forces in terrorizing them until The Morningstar stepped in!

To invoke Heaven’s name had the same effect as trying to curse someone. 

That could explain why Sera flinched away from him after he spoke; that previous distracting clearing away like an unwelcome fog. She must have just realized what she’d done. Though, she didn’t apologize, which was a bit odd. Usually, anyone caught invoking Heaven’s name (even if it was to berate them for their hypocrisy and deception) would apologize for bringing it up if they knew other people had heard them. It was considered bad luck to just let it hang in the air. 

Instead, Sera just nodded curtly before turning to face the altar. “The pieces of the ring have been hidden behind several nightmare portals. Each one said to be modeled after a Ring of Hell.” 

So, a literal ring—as in, the jewelry piece—was being kept in a prison that was modeled after all seven of Hell’s Rings?

Lucian didn’t know if he should be surprised by that or not. He supposed if a chaotic entity was going to have some form of humor, it would be dark humor. On the other hand, if the prisons were modeled after Hell’s Rings, wouldn’t that give The Morningstar and his followers an advantage? They knew the terrain extremely well, and would probably feel more comfortable journeying into Roo’s domain if it looked familiar enough, as opposed to being more hesitant if she had just thrown them into a completely new environment. 

“The catch is that only mortal souls are allowed into the portals. Any Hellborn are barred entry.” 

Huh…well, nevermind then. Maybe The Morningstar wouldn’t have that advantage anymore if it wasn’t him or a close confident going in. 

But still; that was quite contradictory, wasn’t it? Sure, Lucian could foresee Roo not wanting their game to end too soon—something that would definitely happen if The Morningstar or his Dominions were allowed to be the ones to enter the portals—but surely she had to know that relying on mortal souls would make things boring again. Right? How far could they reasonably get when they didn’t have any powers that could protect them from the monsters she’s surely hidden in each rendition of Hell’s Rings?

Wait a minute! Why were those the questions he was asking? 

He needed to check something first: “If what you say is true, how come the Radio Demon hasn’t announced it yet? I would think that The Morningstar would deem such an offer important enough to share, especially since he knows he’ll need candidates to get the pieces.” 

Sera was quick to answer him, still not looking at him. “The Morningstar has been…hesitant to bring it up to the mortals. He knows what dangers they’ll face there, so he wants to exhaust all other options before asking for champions. Technically, what Lord Satan is having me do is currently unknown to him.” 

…uh huh…

Sera would have Lucian believe that one of The Morningstar’s loyal Dominions would go behind his back like that? And that they would be able to do so without him catching on? 

At this point, Lucian should consider writing all of these suspicious details down. He could alphabetize the list for fun! Sera was just that terrible at putting on a convincing show. That being said, he was curious about this portal business she brought up. Because even if she was lying about Roo’s game and The Remnant of Heaven, the portals floating above the floor had to go somewhere, right? Maybe to one of Hell’s Rings, maybe not. But moving around had to be better than just sitting here!

Call him crazy, but his curiosity—combined with the knowledge that he needed to find a way out of this strange room so he could get to Hell already—was too strong for him to just disregard what was right in front of him. And what about the altar? It had to do something, right? Whether that something was genuinely assembling a powerful ring or acting as an offering platform, there had to be some importance attached to it if Sera was going to make it one of the center pieces of her story. 

Right?

Right?! 

Gosh, there was just so much to take in. And even if a majority of it was lies, Lucian didn’t have anything better to do other than go with Sera’s words and hope it provided him a way out of here. 

“Alright then.” Lucian turned so he was looking at the portal closest to his left, trying to see if there were any glyphs or pictures he could see against the silver surface. He hadn’t seen any the first time he looked, but then again, he also hadn’t been in the proper mindset to be actively looking for things as subtle as that. He had been taking in the bigger picture, not devoting enough time to the smaller details prior to Sera’s interruption. 

Much to his dismay, he found nothing new the second time around. 

Huh…Maybe there just wasn’t anything to see yet?

“I suppose the assistance you want involves me trying my luck in each portal?” Lucian looked back towards Sera, just in time to catch her reaction. 

She stiffened at his question; quite a strange reaction for someone who’d been sent down here to select candidates for ‘ Lord Satan’s ’ mission, huh? It was almost as if she couldn’t believe that he had fallen for whatever trick she was trying to pull!

Lucian didn’t blame her for the most part. If he was as terrible of a liar as she was, he would be surprised if anyone was willing to follow his words as well. They’d either have to be deaf or just plain stupid. 

“You’ll really do it?” Her head slowly turned, gaze much sharper than it had been before, but still inquisitive as she regarded him. “Just like that?” 

Lucian shrugged. “If The Morningstar requires humans to be the ones to fetch him the pieces, then who am I to deny him?”

Of course, Lucian knew that he had no concrete proof that what he was about to do would truly be in The Morningstar’s name. But he wasn’t exactly lying when he explicitly stated that either! Many humans would gladly walk off the edge of cliffs if The Morningstar willed it to be. 

Not only was Lucian confident that everyone who obeyed would be welcomed into his realm, likely that Garden of Eden recreation that the Radio Demon endlessly praised when first introducing it to humanity, but it would be understood that The Morningstar wouldn’t ask such a thing unless it was for a very, very good reason. Maybe it would be one of those ‘ sacrifice the few for the many ’ scenarios, or (and this was a worst-case-scenario) maybe there would come a time when The Morningstar found life on Earth to be merciless with Roo’s influence still abundant and wanted all human souls in his realm so he had direct jurisdiction over their protection. 

Who knows, really? There were too many possibilities!

All Lucian could say, in the moment—here and now—was that if The Morningstar asked anything of humanity, he would have it. Nothing was too big. 

“Your…devotion…is…it’s impressive.” Sera’s throat visibly bobbed as she swallowed. It was a harsh and dramatic sound, something you’d be more prepared to hear coming from a movie and not an actual person. “He…he will…I’m sure he will…reward…you greatly for your bravery-”

“The honor of completing a task set forth by The Morningstar himself will be rewarding enough, I assure you.” 

And with that established, Lucian walked to the portal he had been looking at previously. As he got closer, a loud sound suddenly blasted through the room. Lucian didn’t know how to describe it; he was so surprised to have heard it at all that, by the time he could recenter himself, it was silent once more. Though, judging by the new state of the portal, that sound wasn’t only meant to act as a cheeky jump scare. Instead of silver, it was now green. But not the type of green that Lucian was used to seeing; when the night’s shadows would cast the forest trees in a dark but elegant afterglow while the day’s sun would bathe their vegetable crops in a lively and healthy aura. There was a mystic glow to it, as well as an air of pure power that pushed against him just slightly. Like it was testing his will. 

This was truly otherworldly, like something Lucian would see if he were ever in the presence of a magically-gifted Overlord. 

Actually, now that he thought about it, didn’t many of the pictures of the Radio Demon include glyphs and symbols that were coated in this shade of green? Or, something similar to it?

Was the magic that flowed through his veins the same type that was used to power these portals?

“Before you go in, you should know something…”

Lucian turned slightly and inclined his head towards Sera. She was still standing next to the statue, right hand placed over her heart—or, the place her heart would be if she was a mortal being, assuming she wasn’t—and head tucked until her chin was touching her collarbone. Her eyes were closed, thick lashes fluttering just slightly as the gentle nature of her closed-eyes tightened into a squeeze. She looked like she was forcing herself to look away now. 

“I won’t be able to look after you while you’re in there.” 

Lucian didn’t expect her to be able to. Not only because he still thought she was lying about something (a thought that wasn’t going to go away any time soon), but also because on the rare chance that there was some truth to her words, he didn’t think Roo would give The Morningstar too much of an advantage to her game. She already made it so that he’d be forced to ask mortal souls to participate in his place. 

“Part of Roo’s stipulations?” He figured he might as well ask anyway. 

Sera took quite some time to answer. And when she could finally force her one-word answer out, she was quiet. So quiet that Lucian almost didn’t hear her as she whispered: “...yes.” 

“Alright.” Lucian nodded even when he knew Sera couldn’t see it. Turning back to face the portal, his fists clenched from where they rested at his sides. “Can you at least tell me what I’ll be looking for? What it looks like? Where I can find it?” 

“I can’t say for certain what the pieces will look like, but each one will be at the center of Roo’s crafted realm. And it’ll be held in an altar similar to this one.” 

“Got it.” If that was the case, they shouldn’t be too hard to spot even if finding them was part of the challenge. “Anything else?” 

“Yes.” There was some rustling behind him. Specifically, it sounded like fabric rustled behind him. Like someone was moving around, but whether Sera was actually moving across the floor or just moving her arms was lost to Lucian. “You won’t be alone. There will be monsters in there, and they’ll be looking for you as soon as you enter their realm.” 

…well, that was encouraging …

Why was Sera clearly desperate to trick a mortal soul into completing this task again? With everything Lucian knew about Roo’s realms so far, she had to know that anyone weaker than an Overlord—at the very least—would die before they even got close to the altar. 

Maybe she doesn’t have a choice? I mean…there’s desperation, and then there’s desperation .

“Good luck, Mr. Magne.” 

“...thanks.” 

And with that, Lucian took one deep breath (something he didn’t think he even needed to do now that he was dead, it was just for a physical comfort at this point) before steeling his nerves and practically diving into the portal. Dramatic? Probably, but it felt like if he hesitated, the magic swirling around the portal’s surface would shove him back. 

Time to get this show on the road then. 

Bring it on!

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Wow! The bitch actually pulled it off, color me impressed!”

“Don’t get too cocky too soon, Mam. Luci can obviously see something’s up. If Alastor can’t properly sway him once he gets his hands on that first piece-”

“Don’t think like that, Oz! We’ve all waited centuries for his soul to return; Alastor, of all people, won’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers.”

“Yeah! Plus, the cheeky bastard has been successful in convincing humanity to devote themselves to Lucifer now. He’s their God, and we are his followers. As soon as this meat sack sees us, he’ll be drinking up our words faster than Bee chugs her juice! Just like the last few did.” 

“...let’s hope so, you two. Let’s hope so.” 

“Hey, turn that frown upside down! We’ll get our Lucifer back. Alastor will bring him back.” 

“He better. God’s held custody of his soul for long enough. It’s time for him to come home .”

Chapter Text

As soon as Lucian stepped out, he had the urge to fall right back into the portal once more. 

The sight that greeted him was one he’s seen a handful of times, yet again as part of his work as a Sentinel during his living years. The building he was standing in front of was clearly once a hotel. Even without the worn out letters that read ‘ Hazbin Hotel ’ at the top, the structure’s design made it obvious that this was no normal home or corporate building. From what Lucian could make out of the walls, it was still actively falling apart before his very eyes. 

Paint, or whatever was left of the original paint job, was peeling off or fading until only a muted gray was left in its place. Two towers that had been stationed at opposing sides of the hotel were in different states of destruction. One that had been shaped to look like an apple had a collapsed roof, with many of the windows forming the outer edge having either been shattered or left to collect dust and dirt across the pane. The other, one that Lucian couldn’t even give a name to since it was truly that disfigured, had an entire half missing. As if it just slid off from the rest of the building, like a landslide!

Whatever material the body of the hotel was made of must not have been very sturdy. There were several cracks along various surfaces and dips that pushed into the walls (which could have suggested that they were made by people on the outside, unsurprising if those aforementioned ‘ monsters ’ were wandering around). Many of the front windows were also boarded up, though the wood did nothing to hide the shattered state of the glass. 

A place of residence long-since abandoned, huh?

Looking at it brought forth a wealth of uncomfortable memories; of haggard victims pleading with him, of hopes for survivors crumbling away as soon as he and his group stepped into the most recent city that had come under Roo’s attention, of the bodies littering the streets, of the blood souring the air until he could barely breathe, and of the crushing realization that there wouldn’t be a clear end in sight for humanity. There wouldn’t be a light at the end of the tunnel so much as a congratulatory pat on the shoulder when they finally left Earth and were welcomed into Hell. 

For all of The Morningstar’s Divine power, when faced with an entity completely made up of chaos, destruction was an unavoidable thing. 

And that was clearly a theme in Roo’s realm. If this was the standard she was already setting with the recreation of the first Ring, Lucian was not looking forward to the memories and the implications that would arise as soon as he saw the rest. 

The sky was a bright red, like an exaggerated version of what happened when Earth’s sun first rose to signal the morning and then eventually set to make way for the evening. The air wasn’t much better; it was too heavy for human lungs and filled to the brim with the scatterings of smoke and iron. Was that iron smell actually blood, or was it just an unsettling aroma that was meant to remind Lucian (and any other poor fool who’d found themselves in this mess) of blood? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to look away from what he was currently looking at for long enough to check. He worried that if he did, what he saw would send him tearing through the portal so he could rest with Sera before trying to tackle this a second time. 

How many times would that process repeat itself before he finally saw this new mission through? He wasn’t going to give himself the chance to find out.

He said he was going to do this, and dammit, he was going to see it through!

Marching forward, Lucian reached the front doors in record time and only resisted the immediate instinct to throw them open thanks to Sera’s reminder echoing in his head: ‘ You won’t be alone. There will be monsters in there, and they’ll be looking for you as soon as you enter their realm. ’

Lucian wasn’t sure how acute the senses of these monsters would be, but it was best not to take any chances. Roo’s creations could be feral things, after all, and the slightest disturbance would be enough to set them off even if they weren’t being set on someone specific at the time. 

Despite his best efforts, the front doors creaked—loudly!—as he pushed them open. It echoed through the entire space, an unfortunate sound that likely alerted anything and everything in the hotel of a visitor.

Wonderful. What a great start here, people!

Mentally face-palming, Lucian hurried away from the door. His footsteps were little more than soft thuds as his shoes pushed against the worn carpet of the lobby, and as he approached the stairs, he took note of how everything (that was left) was placed. There was no particular reason he did this, he doubted that cataloging the environment would do him much good if he was faced with one of Roo’s monsters. It was more due to habit, and how always having a mental map of your surroundings could mean life and death back on Earth for Sentinels. 

Much like the outside would suggest, the lobby was a mess. Paint was peeling off walls, there were gouges embedded deep into the wood of various surfaces, pillars were cracked down the center or sticking out from where they were supposed to be, and an entire chandelier had clearly fallen from the roof. From the glass pieces and splintered wood, Lucian assumed it must have completely broken upon impact.

But the oddest thing that Lucian encountered was off to the left. The entire wall looked completely different from the rest of the lobby; the background was green as opposed to the maroon and gold that remained. And it had a turquoise-y glow to it that reminded Lucian of a lava lamp. Sitting in that little nook looked to be a vendor’s stand. Or, well, close to a vendor’s stand. It could have also been compared to a magazine kiosk, just one where the front didn’t have a series of shelves. Those were in the far back, and they did a surprisingly good job standing the test of time. Most of them looked like they were still there, actually attached to the back instead of falling loose. 

Lucian didn’t have time to stay and guess what that kiosk could have been for or why it looked different compared to the rest of the lobby. He had to get to the stairs, and once he reached the first step, every bit of his attention went towards making sure that his next move wouldn’t cause the whole thing to collapse. 

Some would reasonably call traversing an unsteady staircase stupid, but what other choice did Lucian have? The altar wasn’t in the lobby, as much as he wished for things to be that simple, and he didn’t see anywhere else on the ground floor he could check during his quick look around. So it was clear he’d have to do some climbing. And it wasn’t like there was an elevator nearby. Not that he would trust one if that was the case, he’d probably still take his chance with the stairs! At least he wouldn’t be trapped in a death box at that point, there would still be some chance he could latch onto the stairwell bar and escape without much injury. 

The stairs certainly moved under his weight, but not enough that Lucian was concerned about them collapsing. The complaints were limited to unsteady, deep creaks and a slight sink in every other step. If the wood wasn’t holding up beneath him, it would be like walking across mud; you knew that the ground would hold under foot, but there was just enough give that you could feel something wasn’t normal. You could feel an unsteadiness that wouldn’t cause your downfall, though it could still cause an accident. 

Each creak—each sink—was a message that he needed to move faster. Every additional second he spent on old steps added to the probability that he was going to find a certain one that broke under him. He was only five or six steps in before he broke off into a sprint up the remaining steps, silently begging for The Morningstar to give him luck from wherever he was. 

He took his success in getting to the first official floor without any injury as a sign that perhaps his prayers had been answered, as unlikely as that was (if Sera couldn’t see him when she was arguably closer, was it really reasonable to demand that The Morningstar track him?). And with that, he was presented with his next batch of scenery: a hallway of doors. A lit hallway of doors. 

Should he feel comfortable or unsettled that the lights in the hallway still seemed to work? Obviously, with how runned-down it looked, perhaps one could make the argument that working lights were quite suspicious. It could imply that someone much smarter than Roo’s average beasts was wandering around with Lucian. On the other hand, this could very well just be a design choice on her end as well. Maybe she liked the creepy atmosphere it gave, or somehow found it within herself to give the mortals some semblance of a chance at completing her challenge by acknowledging that they couldn’t see in the dark! 

Or maybe this was another mortal soul! Maybe Lucian wasn’t the first to be lured into whatever story Sera spun and an earlier human set this up during their own trial run so they could get past the first floor. He didn’t know! And dwelling on it felt rather stupid the longer he thought about it. What he should do is just be grateful that he could see and move on. 

Come on…come on! There’s gotta be something here-!

Lucian hurried down the hallway until he reached the end, then turned right when he noticed it was the only direction he could go. At first, he assumed that should he continue down and be faced with yet another corner where he’d have no choice but to turn right again, it would only bring him back to the staircase he’d just come up. Which, while annoying considering what he was trying to accomplish, wouldn’t be too surprising for a hotel. 

Thankfully, that didn’t end up being the case. 

When it came time for him to make that second turn, thereby completing half the journey back to the start, he encountered another staircase. This one no doubt led to the second floor of the room’s portion of the hotel. For a moment, he debated going back to check in each room he had passed. It would take more time than he would like if he had to go through each individual dorm, but he wouldn’t put it past Roo to hide the altar in one since there were so many in this stupid building!

Then he, once again, remembered Sera’s words. 

Each piece will be at the center of Roo’s realm.

He was only on the first floor. He was nowhere close to the center! 

Hell, if the rest of the floors had the same design, where it was essentially one large rectangle that put you back where you started once you made your way around, maybe there was no actual ‘ center ’. Maybe Lucian would have to climb until he had nowhere left to go if he wanted to get to that altar. 

It wasn’t any more attractive of an option than if he were to check each room he passed, but he might as well go with that option since it seemed to make the most sense at the moment. Push comes to shove; if he was wrong and it was actually in one of the rooms, he could check each one as he made his way down. He’d be on his way back to the portal anyway. Maybe that was a better use of time and energy. 

As he began his trek to the second floor, armed with a better strategy than he had come in with, he thought about the so-called ‘ monsters ’ that he would supposedly run into during his journey. It was honestly too early to tell if he just happened to pick a time where few of them were active, or if they were all stationed closer to the altar to better protect it. But, against his better judgment, it still felt good to know that he might have some time before he had to even think about facing some sort of horrific entity that could kill him with a single blow if it managed to get its mitts on him. 

It left him with plenty of time to think. Not necessarily about his next move: what he’d do if he ran into one of Roo’s creatures, what he’d do with the piece if he actually got it, what he’d do about Sera if he couldn’t find a clear way out of this mess on his own—no, no, none of that useful stuff. Rather, his mind was plagued with a strange feeling of…nostalgia? Not nostalgia in the sense that he was feeling particularly affectionate as he ran into a new series of doors or found some new stairways to climb. But nostalgia as in…remembrance. Familiarity?

A past .

There was something about this place that reminded Lucian of…something. Something that felt important, something that felt like it should still be with him, but just wasn’t. It was the same gut instinct he felt when he first interacted with Sera. Only, instead of suspicion and distrust, it was…it was…something…something more…

Argh! Lucian couldn’t say for sure what was going on with him, but he knew that there was something about this whole thing that made him feel more emotional than he was used to feeling. Could it be Roo’s magic? He was in one of her realms…but, no! He just admitted that he felt the same thing when he was with Sera, who probably didn’t have any connection to Roo if she was actively working to foil the chaotic deity. 

What was it about Sera? 

What was it about this place?

What was going on?! 

He just couldn’t put his finger on it. No matter how many times he tried to attach a rational explanation to what he was feeling, it never quite hit. There was just something inherently wrong with everything he came up with. It left him feeling lost when he was already in a startlingly disadvantaged decision, which in turn, left him feeling angry. He wanted answers, damnit! 

His chest was heaving with frustrated pants by the time he reached the last floor. He could tell it was the highest he could get (well, other than the roof) since there was no staircase he could use to climb up further. He made all the necessary turns, as he’s been doing for every floor that led up to this one, and he was brought right back to the start instead of being given a different exit. 

It looked like he was right about their not being an actual ‘ center ’ to this place. That could only mean one thing: it was time to check the individual rooms. 

Lucian decided that if he was going to start the agonizing process of kicking down every door, he was going to check-off the most obvious places to hide the altar to give himself some peace of mind. He was going to start with those strange towers that hung off opposite sides of the hotel. 

Since the stairway to the last floor was in the center of the hallway, as the stairwell between the lobby and the first floor was, Lucian wasn’t particularly close to either of the towers’ entrances. So, really, he could go whichever way he felt like and it would be pure luck if he happened to choose the right one on the first try. 

Well, I remember the one on the right looking worse than the apple-themed one. Maybe it’ll be safer to leave that one for last?

Mind made up, Lucian took off towards the left side of the hall and sprinted until he came across the double-doors he’d previously passed. It was only because of the sheer size that he assumed they led to the apple tower. Surely, an entire tower would have a different design for its doors compared to a regular room, right? That was just how things worked! 

Pushing them open, Lucian had a minute to take in what was in front of him before he was gasping in delighted shock. 

He had been kidding when he told himself that it’d be sheer luck should he choose the right side of the hotel on the first try! It had been for personal comfort. And yet, here he was! The same incomplete altar that Sera had once been standing beside was right in front of him. Merely a few feet away from the very doors that granted him entry to the correct room. 

Floating in the statue’s cupped palms was a glowing orb. It was that same unearthly green that the portals had been, and it crackled with ancient magic as it rested in the air. Lucian almost didn’t want to touch it out of fear that he’d summon any roaming monsters to his location, or maybe he’d hurt himself since he wasn’t magically gifted as a newly deceased soul. However, the thought of just leaving it be was wholly unsatisfying too. Not only had he come here for this piece, but that feeling he’d gotten near the beginning of his exploration of the hotel floors had returned. 

Something was beckoning him closer; a gut-feeling was telling him that he needed to touch that magic. He needed some form of contact with it. 

No reason, no explanation, no answers. 

Lucian just needed to touch it, and that was that. 

His feet moved him across the room before he could force himself to think about this logically, hands automatically coming up the closer he got. As he came to stand just before the gold altar, he realized that he might have to do some additional climbing to actually get to the glowing orb cradled between its palms. It figured that his height would find a way to inconvenience him both in life and in death, huh?

Lucian’s arms lowered as he looked for an appropriate place to begin his climb, but before he could spot a reliable foothold or an ideal bulge to grab onto, the green orb pulsed. The same noise that echoed throughout the room he’d just come from—the one that only sounded off when the portal had changed from silver to green—repeated itself as the orb continued to pulse. It was as if it was alive; a bare heart that had been ripped from its protective body and left exposed for anyone to tear into it. 

What the-?

There wasn’t enough time to fully develop the question making its way to the forefront of his mind. A minute or so after that initial sound, his vision suddenly began to blur and his head felt too light. Trying to make sense of anything was impossible in such a condition. 

Before he knew it, he had blacked out completely. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“You are entirely too excited about this, mon cher.”

Lucian awoke—or, at least he thought he did—to the sound of a very familiar, very staticky voice purring its words to whoever he was speaking to. It sounded close by, almost too close to be comfortable. And when Lucian looked around, trying to ignore the sudden change in scenery, he soon saw why. 

Before him, two figures were plastered on a mysterious surface. The closest thing he could compare it to was a television screen; everything they did played out in front of him as if he were watching a movie in a theater. 

The room they were in looked luxurious. Far grander than anything Lucian could recall seeing on Earth. Not because of any ornate decoration or gaudy display of wealth, but because of how comfortable he felt looking at the scene. Comfort was a luxury for a Sentinel. 

A bed occupied the majority of the space, one large enough that it could easily hold four people and yet, limited itself to only supporting two on its surely cushiony surface. Unlike traditional beds, it was circular in shape as opposed to rectangular, a design choice that seemed to work in the occupants favor as it provided them with more walls to lean against instead of being confined to the headboard. Pillows lined the circumference, all the way around until a cut-off point had been left bare to mark the foot of the bed. 

The dark red sheets and blankets lay somewhat neatly under the occupants, only the occasional wrinkle or stretch here and there. Lucian supposed that was just something that happened when people sat on the sheets instead of burrowing under them. 

From beneath their bodies, Lucian could make out the gold outline of a snake with several dips pulling at its body. A serpentine pattern, perhaps? Highly likely, and something that was remarkably appropriate considering just who was taking center stage in this strange ‘ movie ’.

“Shush! I’m not!” 

The Morningstar, in all of his Divine glory, was accompanied by the Radio Demon in this scene. The pictures that countless artists dedicated to his royal visage did him no justice, from where Lucian stood. No mortal hand could ever hope to capture the sheer flawlessness of his fair skin, the spun gold that made up his hair, the deep black that rode tantalizingly up his hands until stopping at his elbows, the fullness of his lips, the uniqueness of his eyes, or the six eye-like sockets painted across his back. They would drive themselves mad in their endless pursuit of perfection. 

The only thing that the Old Tales seemed to get right: he had earned his moniker as God’s favorite.

Even when dressed in a simple set of pajamas that had been decorated with ducks, Lucian could confidently say that His Majesty was easily the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Although, maybe that was also his own fondness for the feathery creatures talking. 

What could he say? He already respected a man who showed great adoration and compassion to animals. If The Morningstar wanted to celebrate his seemingly favorite creations by sewing them into his clothing, who was Lucian to judge?

The Radio Demon was also presumably dressed in his sleep wear. He had no exciting designs sewn into the fabric, just an alternation of red and black stripes that followed him from his shirt to his pants. But it worked well for him! The color palette of his clothes perfectly matched the overall palette that his very being took on. Red hair with black ends, red ears with a black outline at the outer edge that ran all the way up to the tips, a red tail that had a black underside, red eyes with little black slits for pupils, and black hands that ended with red-tipped claws? He was a walking, talking example of color-coordination. 

The Radio Demon held The Morningstar in his arms, long legs caging the smaller being between them as he shook his head exasperatingly at the angel. His tone was entirely too fond as he insisted: “It’s just fur! Surely, there are far more exciting things for you to fuss over?” 

“But it’s your fur, Al!” The Morningstar huffed, arms coming up to cross over his chest as his bottom lip jutted out. Lucian could swear that The Morningstar’s eyes got the tiniest bit bigger as he continued to gaze up at the Radio Demon, shining with a light that only affected his gaze and nothing else in the room. “It’s part of you! I wanna see it!” 

“Oh, honestly! You’ve known I possess a tail for how long now? Is fur truly that different?” 

“I-I mean…maybe not-but! It’s on your chest!” The Morningstar sounded entirely too triumphant as he suddenly fell forward onto the Radio Demon’s front. As his words suggested, his head went right to the taller demon’s chest, nuzzling into the shirt’s fabric. “I bet it’s so sooooooft! It’d make a great pillow.” 

“...what, the several pairs of duck eyes that watch over us as we rest isn’t enough for you?” The Radio Demon chuckled, his hold tightened around The Morningstar as the angel only continued to nuzzle into him. With a directed look towards each duck-themed pillow that joined them in their little nest (and seriously, there were so many that the size of the bed was starting to make more sense), he added: “My, my, you truly are a sinful thing, aren't you? Greedy, greedy…”

“Yes, yes, because greed is the sin I’m most well-known for.” The Morningstar rolled his eyes. 

That, right there, gave Lucian a good idea of when this scene must be taking place. He couldn’t name specific years or anything, but if The Morningstar was still wrongly being labeled as one of the Sins, then this was prior to God and his angelic legion showing their true colors. It was information that didn’t provide him with anything useful, as he didn’t understand why such a memory was even playing out in front of him in the first place, but it was at least nice to have some background context for what he was looking at. 

In a way, he supposed it could explain what the Radio Demon had done in order to earn the position as The Morningstar’s messenger. Along with being a mortal soul, he clearly shared an intimate relationship with their Divine leader; be it a platonic one or a romantic one. That implied a great deal of trust. An individual didn’t just casually invite other people to share their bed and hold them in the same way that the Radio Demon was holding The Morningstar if their connection wasn’t deep. Nor did they talk with such casualness, as one might expect from an interaction between a superior and their charge. 

Who better to act as a communicator? There would be no misunderstandings or mingling of words.

“Now quit stalling! Lemme seeeeeee!” The Morningstar nuzzled the Radio Demon for another minute before pulling back. He pouted up at the other until his redheaded companion sighed and went about unbuttoning the front of his shirt. 

As could be expected, given how their conversation has played out, a decent bush of light brown fur came into view as he finished his unbuttoning. With how fluffy it looked, Lucian could understand why The Morningstar was so excited to see it. It truly would make a fine resting place for your head if you were lucky enough to have a close, cuddly relationship with the Radio Demon. 

“Oh my God!” The Morningstar wasted no time as he shoved his face into the patch of fur. It was a good thing Divine beings didn’t need to breathe, or he would have easily suffocated himself with how he refused to sit back up. Then again, maybe this was one of the instances where The Morningstar could just regenerate if something about this experience truly found a way to harm him. If he could survive Roo’s machinations, then some chest fluff wasn’t going to be the thing that kept him down. “Sho sooooooooowwft!” 

The Radio Demon let out a loud exhale, though made no move to extract or nudge The Morningstar off of him. Like before, his arms only tightened around his companion when they reaffirmed their original hold on him. It would be easy to make the argument that the Radio Demon was keeping him as close as possible. 

“You’re ridiculous, my dear.” The Radio Demon brushed some of The Morningstar’s golden locks back, exposing some of the skin of his forehead. “Extremely ridiculous. I still don’t understand how I let you worm your way into my nonexistent heart.” 

Any cruelty that could have been associated with such a message was quickly lost as the Radio Demon leaned down and pressed his lips to The Morningstar’s forehead. He held them there after making contact, looking all too content in remaining in that position until they were either forced apart or ready to lie down for a good night’s rest. 

Lucian didn’t know which one came first. In this particular case, he had no way of knowing how this scene ended for the Radio Demon and The Morningstar. Just as abruptly as he’d fallen into this strange plane of unconsciousness, he was being pulled away from the ‘ screen ’ as a bright light suddenly flooded the room. 

“What now?!” 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“This is the last one, right? We won’t have to do this anymore once this one makes it through all of the portals?” 

“That’s right, my dear. This should be the last time God steals Lucifer from us—he’s run out of space to work with. If he tries to split this soul, it’ll be stretched too thin. He won’t risk that.” 

“Ok, great! Great…that’s…that’s good…that’s good…”

“I know you’re eager to have him back, Charlie. I share your need to have him by my side. But we must have patience, hmmm? Lest we want to leave an opening for things to go wrong.” 

“Argh, I know! I know, I know, I know, I know, Al! I just-! I miss him…I miss him so bad…” 

“I know, dearie, I know.”

“I should have listened to him. About Heaven, I mean. I-I should have…just…let things be-!” 

“You can’t blame yourself for their actions, sweet daughter of mine. You didn’t tell them to break the pathetic illusion of peace they wanted to push between the realms. That decision, and the burden of failure, lies on the shoulders of the Archangels and the Seraphim.” 

“...how can I believe that when it was my insistence that got him killed? He went eons without interacting with Heaven and was fine, then as soon as he fights for me, he’s gone! That’s not a coincidence, Al!”

“Perhaps not. I won’t say that Heaven wasn’t unsettled by Hell’s sudden interest in its affairs, but a civil conversation was always on the table. They didn’t have to wage war. They didn’t have to take away Hell’s heart. But they have, Charlie, they have and it’s up to us to bring him back.”

Chapter Text

When Lucian came to, he could feel his heart beating against his breast bone. The force behind each new pump of blood was so strong—so intense!—that it caused phantom shudders of pain to wrack through his entire body, and he worried he’d have to fight to keep the (technically unnecessary) organ inside instead of losing it to the strange mechanics of afterlife physiology. 

He’d fallen unconscious just as he had arrived at the altar. Right before he was about to grab the very thing he’d come into this corrupted realm for! 

He’d left himself completely vulnerable! Anything could have come around and snatched him right up. Why it didn’t immediately kill him was a mystery, but the main thing he had to focus on was the possibility that he may have been taken away from the altar. Without getting the orb! There was a strong possibility he’d have to go back for that, and when he did, he’d probably face much more dangers on his trek up to it now that Roo knew someone had gotten close enough to touch it. 

Hell, would it even be in the same place after that?! She could have moved it if she wanted to give the next poor soul a true challenge. Maybe she did as Lucian originally feared, and hid it in one of the many hotel rooms that he absolutely did not want to go into. 

Crap, crap, crap, crap-!

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” 

Lucian’s eyes flew open. That voice…

He’d just heard that voice! 

“Good.” Lo and behold, the actual Radio Demon came into view as he stood over Lucian, who was still lying down following his fainting episode. Gone was the sleep wear Lucian had seen him wearing in that strange dream-like sequence. Replacing it was the professional regalia every human associated him with, following his first appearance on Earth. 

His trusty mic sat upright in his right hand, the small eye attached just below the actual mic piece unblinking as it joined its owner in staring down at Lucian. 

A black vest that hugged the Radio Demon’s thin figure had been pulled over a bright red shirt. Though dark in shade, it was still eye-catching and (once again) a match for the shadowy overcast that haunted his gaze. The sleeves were a bit puffy near the forearm portion, though it tightened near his wrist when the fabric had been folded into a neat pair of cuffs. Black pants wrapped around nimble legs, stopping just at the ankle where some short-heeled shoes clicked against the floor. The majority of the shoes had been overtaken by black, leaving on the toes with any color: red. 

Hanging off the Radio Demon’s shoulders was a black cloak that fell all the way to the floor. The edges were only an inch or so away from dragging against the ground. 

The portion covering the Radio Demon’s shoulders looked to have some light brown fur sewn into the pads. While the same shade as Lucian remembered the Radio Demon’s chest fur being, he doubted that the other male had gone out of his way to rip sections of his own fur off solely so he could sew it onto his cloak. Maybe he just found an animal that had a similar shade of fur that he did, and chose to skin them so that his clothing would match his aesthetics. As an influential figure in Hell, it wasn’t like he was hurting for funds or underlings who could go out and find such a creature.

The clasp in front of the Radio Demon’s neck, the very thing that kept the entire cloak on instead of letting it fall off its wearer’s back, was made up of a thin gold chain that stretched between two medium-sized gold buttons. Each of which had their own designs carved into them: a pair of remarkably detailed antlers marked this specific cloak as the Radio Demon’s, paying homage to the mighty buck his demonic appearance took after following his transition from the mortal plane to the afterlife. 

While the back of his black cloak wasn’t visible from Lucian’s current perspective, he knew from the various images his city had of the demon that there would be a golden outline of The Morningstar’s sigil sewn into the expanse of the fabric. It was simple, and yet still so regal. 

“Y-you’re…you’re the-”

“The Radio Demon? The most powerful Overlord of the Pride Ring? The Morningstar’s voice in the mortal realm?” The Radio Demon tilted his head, amusement breaking out into his gaze. “Why yes, that I am, my good man! Tell me, what is a newly deceased soul doing at Pride’s altar? One that should be enjoying a peaceful future in The Garden, at that!” 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

This was Pride’s altar? That portal that Sera had sent him through had taken him to one of the actual Rings of Hell, not a recreation at Roo’s hand?! 

Damnit!

He knew she had been lying, but he thought that most of the deception was tied to who she truly served. He didn’t take a single second to think that she could be lying about how the portals worked. Fuck…how stupid could he possibly be?! 

“F-for…forgive me…” Lucian swallowed. This was probably where he should be getting to his knees so he could prostrate himself before one of The Morningstar’s most trusted confidants, but he couldn’t get any part of his body (other than the muscles in his face) to move. Every time he tried to do something as small as wiggle his finger, he didn’t feel the expected sensation of his muscles twitching. His anxiety was surely blocking his ability to properly relay any commands from his brain to the rest of his body.

And at the absolute worst time, at that!

“I-I…I didn’t…I didn’t think that I’d actually arrive in Pride’s Ring! S-Sera…she…she told me that…th-those…those portals were of Roo’s hands, and-”

The Radio Demon held up his left hand in a nonverbal demand for silence. The eye in his mic narrowed as he did so, resembling a glare that lacked any real heat. Lucian wondered if that was because the mic actually wasn’t as angry as it could be, or if it was limited on accounts of technically being an inanimate object that had just been given sentience via the Radio Demon’s magic. He was leaning towards the first option, since the Radio Demon himself didn’t look particularly upset. Sure, his smile looked like it had tightened, pulling until there was a painful-looking crease around the corners of his lips. And to say his gaze was entirely friendly would be inaccurate. 

But that didn’t amount to anger as Lucian understood it. If he had to give the Radio Demon’s expression a name, it would be ‘ frustrated ’ or ‘ annoyed ’ at best. 

“Of course she’s behind this.” The Radio Demon sighed, eyes momentarily closing as he shook his head. “I should have known. My apologies, dear fellow, that you’ve been dragged into her schemes.”

“O-oh, no, no! You don’t have to apologize!” 

“Yes, I do. The Morningstar and his Dominions had hoped that they’d taken the necessary steps to ensure that that blasted Seraphim couldn’t pull any more mortal souls to her limbo, but it seems like she’s managed to pull some wool over our eyes since the last time we saw one another. I can only hope she hasn’t managed to lure too many with her falsehoods between now and then.” 

“Seraphim?!” Lucian’s eyes could have been bulging out of his head with how wide they were. He thought-no…humanity had thought that God had taken all of his angels and left. That included the Seraphim! It was such an easy thing to believe since, with the exception of Sir Pentious (who was still an unknown to many humans when it came to his species), no angel that had retained their so-called Heavenly Purity had made themselves known to the mortals since The Morningstar had gotten involved in driving Roo back. Only the tainted ones remained. 

To hear that Sera was not only a known inconvenience to The Morningstar’s forces but…but also…also a…a Seraphim, at that…

It…it was just so…so…

Damn, shocking didn’t even begin to cover it!

“She’s a Seraphim?!”

“A tainted one, yes.” The Radio Demon sighed again, then opened his eyes to return Lucian’s shocked gaze with his own troubled one. “Come, dear fellow. If she’s involved you in her newest game, I suppose you deserve some answers.” 

The Radio Demon straightened once he finished talking, giving Lucian a second to nod in understanding before he was turning and walking away from where the mortal was laying. He didn’t go far, Lucian could still see him quite clearly as he made his way over to a large desk and then seated himself behind it. At a first glance, it looked like mahogany with its coloring and smooth sheen. And while it had a few short stacks of paperwork littered along the sides, it was overall quite bare in decoration. Anything that could be considered ‘ extra ’ came from behind the Radio Demon’s chair; entire shelves of multicolored book spines stuck out from the otherwise plain room, each one so named in a language that Lucian couldn’t read. He couldn’t even recognize it! 

It must be an old language, older than humans could comprehend, or one that mortals weren’t privy to unless they had a place in The Morningstar’s circle. After all, it wasn’t unnatural for leaders to have self-made codes or jargon that was specific to their place of work. In Lucian’s experience, it helped with security, something The Morningstar—of all beings—definitely needed to keep in mind when Roo was still out there or if he was ever dealing with the less-than-innocent mortals that had been excluded from The Garden of Eden he’d recreated. 

Deciding it was time to prepare himself for an actual conversation, Lucian pushed himself up until he could properly reorient himself. He found that he had been placed on an extremely comfortable couch just opposite to the Radio Demon’s desk. Whatever the cushions were made of were firm in how they kept him from sinking into the furniture as his weight moved around, but still soft enough that there was plenty of give as he readjusted his position so he was properly sitting upright. 

It was no wonder he slept so soundly, despite being moved to an entirely different location. That couch was far more comfortable than his old bed could ever be. 

“I suppose I should start at the beginning of Sera’s tale.” The Radio Demon set his cane down, leaving it be as it leaned against the back edge of his desk. It freed both his hands, allowing him to use them as a headrest once his elbows came up to sit on the patch of wood in front of him. “During a time that’s long since passed, she was a Seraphim of the highest order in Heaven’s hierarchy. The Head Seraphim, if you will.” 

Lucian nodded slowly, mind still reeling from the fact that he’d actually come face-to-face with a Seraphim. Now the Radio Demon was telling him that she had been one of the highest Seraphim Heaven had? It felt like a lot to catch up on when he only had a minute or so to digest this new bit of information. 

But, hey! At least he was getting some answers now!

“She was also quite the questionable character, given her position as a Heavenborn angel. You’d expect her to be rather virtuous, hmmm? An avid follower of the morals she and the rest of the Heavenly Council loved to go about preaching. Sadly, it was not so. When God announced that he had intentions of abandoning Earth, she had been one of the many who supported him without question. Even working to promote it to any colleagues of hers that were hesitant to just leave humanity behind. I’ve always assumed it was because she was only blindly following whatever that old fool put in front of her, but The Morningstar has also pitched the possibility that she was interested in protecting the other Heavenborn.”

…only the Heavenborn, huh? 

Lucian could have scoffed; how surprising.  

On a different note though, why was The Morningstar attempting to give the Seraphim the benefit of the doubt here? If Lucian was remembering the Old Tales correctly, didn’t Heaven cast him out in the first place? All for the crime of wanting to believe in humanity as a species? If he’s seen the true cruelty of Heaven, if he’s seen the hypocrisy of Heaven, why would he be at all interested in defending it? 

Lucian wouldn’t ever say anything that would slander The Morningstar’s name, but it was times like this that it really became obvious that humanity would never have the full picture. No matter how much information the Radio Demon or the Keeper were allowed to share with them. 

“Regardless of her reasoning, you can probably tell that she had little sympathy for humans. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that she closed her heart to them entirely. If they couldn’t be perfect, they had no use to her. Naturally, both factors made her an attractive target when Roo found a way out of her cage.” 

Lucian liked to imagine that many angels had painted themselves as ‘ attractive targets ’ when they chose to flee. But he supposed the Radio Demon had a point: it was one thing to take out a mere scout in Heaven’s army, it was a grand power move to be seen conquering a being of high status. 

“We’re not sure how, but Sera kept herself reasonably sane despite Roo’s best attempts to corrupt her entirely.” The Radio Demon shrugged. “I’m personally of the opinion that her questionable morals regarding humanity had already begun conditioning her to be more resilient against an outside force, but there’s also a chance that being the Head Seraphim granted her powers that made shielding her mind easier compared to what many of the lower-ranked angels were left with. If The Morningstar was able to resist falling to Roo’s destructive instincts, then a Seraphim might have a chance.” 

Lucian couldn’t stop himself from flinching at that. Comparing The Morningstar to a Seraphim—one as clearly tainted as Sera, at that—just sounded so wrong. He knew that the Radio Demon meant no offense by it, he was making a logical conclusion that Lucian himself might make if he had enough time to really think about it, but it still sounded strange. And it felt even stranger to accept. 

Luckily, the Radio Demon didn’t call him out on his reaction. He continued his explanation, as if Lucian had never reacted at all. “In a shocking turn of events, being touched by Roo’s magic cost her greatly. Much like her fellow tainted angels, she was left behind so that only those who retained their purity would be free to bask in God’s new sanctuary.” 

Well, ok then. 

Sooooo, was that supposed to be karma or irony?

“As I’m sure you can imagine, it’s hardly a decision she’s pleased with.” The Radio Demon’s eyes shut briefly, and when he reopened them, the pupils had changed. Actually, no, the entire eye had changed! Instead of having red sclera and black pupils, he now had black sclera and red pupils. Along with that shift in color, the pupils themselves weren’t just slits. They had changed to dials, ones that were actually moving while still in the Radio Demon’s eyes. 

They ticked away in a manner similar to a clock’s arm might, a warning of an impending doom that could come at any moment now that the Radio Demon had been crossed. 

“With her remaining power, she sealed herself away in a plane between life and death. Out of sight and out of reach of both The Morningstar and Roo’s forces. ”

“You called it limbo?” Lucian whispered. 

“Yes, it seemed appropriate at the time.” The Radio Demon blinked away the dials. And Lucian meant that literally—one moment, they were there and the next, everything had gone back to normal. Lucian would think he’d hallucinated the transformation if he was stupid enough to believe that the Radio Demon wasn’t powerful enough to control such small shifting. “She was caught almost immediately by His Majesty, and he hoped he’d managed to block her connection to the mortal plane the first time he confronted her. Sadly, it appears she’s much more tricky than we’ve given her credit for.” 

Yeah, that…that was another thing that the Radio Demon mentioned…

Lucian didn’t want to think too hard about the number of souls Sera may have managed to pull into her self-made plane. Just because he had a strong feeling he wasn’t the first person she’s done this too didn’t mean he necessarily made peace with that realization. 

Although, if she was the only permanent resident in that limbo, why did she have decorations of The Morningstar and the Overlords? They didn’t seem to have a friendly relationship; not even a civil one! So what would she gain from-?

Wait…hold on, what am I saying?!

Lucian could have smacked himself for his slowness. 

Of course Sera would have those sorts of decorations. She knew she was dealing with people who revered the Fallen Archangel and his followers. It was obvious from how she played along with Lucian’s devotion to the Divine being despite clearly not favoring The Morningstar at all. She knew how to get to the humans she was trying to manipulate! It was Elementary stuff.

Damn, he really was losing his touch if he actually needed to think about that question. 

Best move on before I get sidetracked again. 

“What does she want?” Lucian licked his lips as he spoke. They, as well as his throat, had suddenly gone very dry as horror crept up on him. With everything about Sera’s backstory out in the open, he was starting to understand the severity of his actions. Should he have succeeded in getting her the orb she wanted, even if he hadn’t wanted to empower her specifically, he would be helping her achieve whatever goal she was working towards just with his cooperation. “She-the orb…she called it a ‘ piece ’. She said it was part of a ring, one that Roo made? Something called The Remnant of Heaven?” 

“Ah, yes… that .” 

Ok, so Sera may not have been lying about The Remnant of Heaven. It was truly an artifact that must have great power. 

“Did Roo actually make it?” 

“Not exactly.” The Radio Demon straightened in his seat so he was no longer resting on his hands. One of them turned so the palm was facing upwards, cupped just slightly as a green orb slowly grew in his hand. The magic he summoned to form it crawled along his forearms in a graceful series of twists and crackles, reminding Lucian of how many humans liked to think of lightning when it struck the Earth. Though, he tried not to think too heavily about why that particular shade of green was shared between the orb at the altar of Pride and the Radio Demon’s magic. It would just encourage a handful of theories that he knew he shouldn’t be poking into. 

“As unsettling as it might be to hear, Roo hasn’t actually been at full power for quite a while. Everything she’s done in these recent centuries, as destructive as it is, has been done after a restriction had been put in place regarding her magic. The Morningstar managed to disrupt her celestial core during their last in-person confrontation, and split it so it’d be difficult for her to regain it. He scattered the remnants across the Seven Rings, safe in the knowledge that his Dominions would take the necessary measures to protect it.” 

Oooooooh, ok…ok…the picture was quickly coming together now…

Regarding the altars, at least. 

But that still didn’t explain why Sera would want to bring those pieces together! Was she helping Roo now that she’s been rejected from Heaven? Was she foolish enough to think that she could control the power of Roo’s core and eventually join the other angels in God’s new home for them? Was she just hoping to cause general chaos as a result of being corrupted by Roo? Was she trying to gain some sort of upper hand against The Morningstar, and Roo’s core made a good bargaining chip? Was she hoping to overthrow him entirely, and she needed Roo’s core to do that?

There were so many possibilities, each one just as plausible as the last!

“Ok. Then, I guess…if-if it’s…Roo’s powers, why would Sera risk bringing them together?” That felt like the safest way to word that question. He didn’t want to practically vomit an overload of questions in case it irritated the Radio Demon, or accidentally made it sound like Lucian was accusing Sera of various nefarious things that could eventually cause a Hell-wide panic. 

Being alert and watchful was fine, becoming paranoid wasn’t. 

“Any assumptions you come up with are as good as mine, I’m afraid. But I will leave you with this,” the Radio Demon’s gaze suddenly became intense even when he didn’t actually do anything to physically change the way his eyes looked, “power is how you protect yourself in this world. And when you have no allies, only God-like entities as your enemies; well…I’m sure that would make anyone quite desperate for any foothold. Wouldn’t it?” 

That couldn’t have been said any better. It appealed to logic, it accounted for Sera’s character, it was clean in how it came together, it was an actual answer in place of the aforementioned word vomit Lucian didn’t want to spring on the Radio Demon, and it didn’t necessarily bring existent or nonexistent loyalties into play. Just the need to survive, which was something Lucian was certain many people could relate to even if they wouldn’t go about it in the same heartless way Sera currently was. 

Perhaps it wasn’t just the Radio Demon’s intimate relationship with The Morningstar that made him a trustworthy candidate to be his spokesperson to the mortals. His grace in speech benefited him quite well, regardless of whether he was talking to a single individual or an entire crowd. 

He was careful, and he was informative. 

Lucian respected that. 

And now that he had a decent chunk of the story, he felt like he had to do something about it. Maybe it wasn’t an obligation of his anymore, considering he was dead and he had already lived a meaningful life while on Earth. As the Radio Demon said, everything he’d done had been enough to earn him a spot in the new Garden of Eden. But it still felt necessary, more so for personal reasons than professional ones. 

He had become a Sentinel because he believed that humanity could continue to recover. He believed that they’d continue to thrive, and didn’t deserve to just die out because they were dealing with forces that were drastically stronger than them. He still believed that, even in death. So if someone was messing with the natural order of things, that bothered him. It bothered him because humanity had come a long way in healing from God’s neglect and Roo’s invasion. They’d done so much—they suffered enough —and a tainted Seraphim would not storm in where she wasn’t wanted and ruin that! 

Sera would not be allowed to just steal human souls who deserved to continue their rebirth in Hell. And she most certainly would not destroy The Morningstar’s hard work by tampering with powers she no doubt had little understanding of. 

“What can I do to help?” As arrogant as it sounded, Lucian knew that he’d be able to do something. He may not have the same magical prowess as other demons, and he definitely didn’t know how to wield any powers he did have with the practiced precision a revered Overlord like the Radio Demon did, but he did have access to Sera. He had access to her limbo dimension that The Morningstar had already attempted to shut down (and failed). 

He could get to the main source of the problem. 

The Radio Demon’s brow rose, but it was a calm gesture. Not full of shock or doubt, just a simple expression that didn’t need to be exaggerated or emphasized. Unlike Sera, he didn’t look or sound surprised by Lucian’s willingness to do anything he could to fix the situation. Only curious, and a genuine type of curious at that. “Are you sure you want an answer to that question?” 

Lucian’s fingers dug into the couch cushion. That had been a reasonable question, and yet for whatever reason, he couldn’t help but feel like it was a jab at his capabilities. He was being underestimated just because he was a new soul, and as ridiculous as it sounded (especially since he, himself, has already admitted to his own helplessness compared to higher beings), he didn’t feel satisfied in letting that stand. His own sense of pride urged him on: “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t at least interested in hearing you out.” 

“I suppose that’s fair.” Just like that, the Radio Demon leaned back slightly, allowing the back of his chair to support all of his weight. “To make a long explanation short, it would be helpful if we could learn of how she’s pulling mortal souls to her little plane when their souls should fall under The Morningstar’s jurisdiction following their exit from the living world. Sadly, I don’t imagine that’s information she’ll give over so easily.” 

Nor was that a question Lucian could ask without sounding extremely suspicious, might he add. 

If Sera truly had little sympathy for humans, she might just kill him as soon as he hinted at being ‘ swayed ’ by one of her demonic adversaries. And this time, there would be no coming back from that. That was a fate he’d rather avoid right now, thank you. 

“The next best thing would be to simply destroy the plane she’s cocooned herself in. Ideally, she would go along with it but, on the off chance she escapes, she’d still be forced out into the open. The Morningstar would be capable of taking it from there, assuming Roo doesn’t try devouring her being first.”

Personally, the latter sounded like a more fitting end to Lucian.

Buuuuuuut…he could acknowledge that giving a corruptive force more power to feed on wasn’t the best idea. So, even if such a fate would surely be deserved, it wouldn’t be the right decision to leave Sera to Roo.  

“How would you go about that?” Lucian remembered the Radio Demon mentioning that Sera had been ‘ out of reach ’ so long as she remained in her sealed-off realm. If The Morningstar was the one with the necessary might to destroy such a place, but he couldn’t get in, how would the Radio Demon’s proposed plan work? Those two things didn’t go together smoothly. 

“That depends on how willing you are to take a risk.” 

“With all due respect, I’ve already lived the riskiest life any human could live.” Well, ok, besides the lives of the victims that managed to escape annihilation if they were unlucky enough to fall under Roo’s attention. But he didn’t have to go on a ramble about that now, in front of the Radio Demon no less. The fact that he was even trying to justify that to himself should probably also stop before he could get too far into it. “Most Sentinels are not so easily scared off.” 

“Fair enough.” The Radio Demon beckoned Lucian close with a small, almost subtle movement of his claws. As Lucian rose, the Overlord brought the hand that was still holding onto the green orb forward. Just as Lucian was close enough to touch the desk’s edge, the spherical shape of magic suddenly disappeared, leaving behind a gold circlet that fell into the Radio Demon’s waiting palm now that its protective ‘ case ’ was gone. 

Small yet thick around the band, Lucian knew exactly what he was looking at. 

The first piece of The Remnant of Heaven. 

“I can’t give you the actual ring pieces. They must remain in their altars to guarantee their protection against both Sera and Roo.” 

Ok, correction—a copy of the first piece of The Remnant of Heaven. 

“But…we can improvise.” The Radio Demon stood from his chair and walked around his desk until he was standing in front of Lucian. 

Lucian has already seen how tall the Overlord was, but damn! Being right in front of him felt like another matter entirely. Especially with how the Radio Demon’s eyes started to glow slightly as he gazed down at his human subject. To say that Lucian felt exposed would be a gross understatement. At this point, it wasn’t just about feeling naked under the Radio Demon’s gaze. It went beyond that; his very flesh and bones were being ripped away so that his vulnerable soul could be harvested from its current vessel, and weighed for judgment. 

“Take this piece back with you.” The Radio Demon picked up the fake ring band between his claws and made a ‘ give me ’ motion with his now free hand. At first, Lucian wasn’t sure what the Overlord was asking for. And he was embarrassed at how long it took for him to realize that the Radio Demon was asking for one of his hands, probably to give him the piece to take back to Sera. 

When Lucian offered his left hand, the Radio Demon went further than merely handing him the gold circlet. He took hold of Lucian’s hand and slid the ring onto his ring finger. 

“Tell Sera that it transferred into you after you touched the orb.” A faint green glow pulsed from the ring, only once before everything fell back to normal. “And that you can’t take it off. We don’t want her taking possession of it too soon, and realizing that something feels wrong with the magic infused in the metal work.” 

“Right.” That made sense. “So, do I just…tell…the Dominions that this is happening then when I get to their Rings? And get more fake pieces from them?” 

Cause he still had to visit them, right? 

To at least make it seem like he was still part of Sera’s mission? 

“No need. I’ll relay to The Morningstar that we’ve found a willing soul to aid us in our…retrieval…of Sera.” The Radio Demon continued to cradle Lucian’s hand with his right hand, and brought his own left hand up to cup the human’s cheek. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture, one that brought a warm blush to Lucian’s cheek. 

Which should feel wrong, right? 

Not only was The Radio Demon waaaay out of Lucian’s league, but if that scene that he’d encountered after falling unconscious was to be believed, he also had to remember that the Radio Demon was in a relationship with The Morningstar that extended beyond the boundaries of professionalism. 

However, when Lucian tried to move his face out of the Radio Demon’s hold, the taller male only moved his hand along. He was determined to keep his palm glued to Lucian’s skin, for whatever reason. 

“It will look suspicious if you return to her like this.” The Radio Demon’s voice dropped into a whisper. “But don’t worry, little one. So long as she still needs you, she’ll heal you to keep up appearances.” 

Before Lucian could think about what that meant, the Radio Demon’s palm moved so it was covering his entire face. 

The last thing Lucian saw before falling unconscious, yet again, was a bright green glow. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Ah, wonderful timing, my dear Husker! You know where to take him afterwards, don’t you?”

“Same spot as the last several times you had me do this? Pretty confident I could get him there in my sleep at this point, Boss.” 

“It never hurts to make sure. It’s been at least a century between each trip, hasn’t it?” 

“Yeah…God’s really been pushing it, hasn’t he?” 

“Mmm, I’d ask why he bothered to banish his son in the first place if he was so desperate to keep him, but that might give the bastard the impression that I actually care about what he has to say.” 

“Fair enough.” 

…

“You’re not…actually…gonna hurt Lucifer…too bad…right?” 

“Just enough to make it convincing. I don’t think I could go beyond that even if I tried. I’m not like them .”

Chapter Text

This time around, when Lucian woke up, it wasn’t any particular feeling or emotion that immediately caught his attention. 

Rather, he felt entirely grounded as he came to. A little too grounded, if he was being honest. 

Because his entire body stung.  

Sitting up was a chore, and as soon as he was able to force his eyes open, Lucian could see where the stinging sensation was coming from. 

Everywhere!

There were scratch marks—or could he call them full on gashes, at this point?—all over him. Some were restrained to single lines, but most of them came in three or five markings at a time. Probably meant to resemble an entire hand ripping its way through his skin. The worst of the damage, appearance-wise at least, was confined to his arms. Not only were there just more marks to speak of, there was also still drying blood dripping from some of the open wounds. Clearly, most of those particular wounds were deep enough to nick an artery, or something equally important. 

Fuck, it was a good thing he was already dead. Or else he would have bled out a long time ago. 

But that wasn’t to say his legs or his torso had been neglected. The largest gash his body appeared to have sustained had been carved into his abdomen, as if he’d been attacked from the front-

It will look suspicious if you return to her like this.

Lucian raised his left hand so it was at eye level. The bare ring band that the Radio Demon had slid onto his finger looked normal, but when he focused hard enough, he could swear he could feel something (in the ring or on its surface) move against him as the Radio Demon’s magic no doubt continued to pulse in the metal. 

Ok, ok then. This…this was fine. Great even! 

He’d somewhat gotten what he came for. And if he had any hopes of actually helping The Morningstar get to Sera, she needed to believe that there had been no contact between him and any of The Morningstar’s followers. The best way to do that was to make her believe that he’d actually encountered some of Roo’s forces, as her story would once have him believe. 

“I won’t fail you.” Lucian promised, staring into the ring for a few seconds longer before standing up. Luckily, the Radio Demon had been kind enough to drop him off right in front of the portal instead of making him trek down all the stairs he’d encountered in the Hazbin Hotel. 

But don’t worry, little one. So long as she still needs you, she’ll heal you to keep up appearances.

All he needed to do to relieve himself of the burning sting currently stealing all of his focus was take a step forward. And maybe share some of his own lies here and there. 

“Well, show time.” 

Taking a deep breath, Lucian mentally apologized to his body for what he was about to put it through and jumped through the portal. As he crossed over from Pride Ring to Sera’s limbo, he put in the extra effort to do a barrel roll to help further sell the idea that he had been attacked and needed to make a quick (if not sloppy) escape before he was killed. 

“Mr. Magne!” 

Sera’s hands were on him before Lucian could bring his head back up. He hoped that she blamed his immediate instinct to pull away on being scared after what he’d just been through. Though, then again, maybe he shouldn’t let himself stress about that. After all, how was she supposed to know that it was actually a gut-instinct response to now knowing that a fucking Seraphim was touching him? Unless she could read his mind? 

…no, unlikely. 

The Radio Demon would have told him about that, and hopefully warded his mind too, if he was concerned about Sera using such a power on him while he was in her limbo. As far as Lucian was concerned, the only ability that had any manipulating properties was the Seraphim’s potential healing proficiency. And even then, that was very much a physical manipulation rather than a mental one. 

Which meant that the Radio Demon’s admission to Lucian would remain a secret. 

“I’d apologize for keeping you waiting, but as you can see,” Lucian let loose a few fake coughs as he forced himself to stand up, “things got a little rough back there.” 

“I’ll say.” Sera flinched as her eyes traveled up and down Lucian’s body. 

“The good news is that I got the ring piece.” Lucian brought up his left hand to show off the gold band. As per the Radio Demon’s suggestion, he added: “The bad news is that it’s been stuck to my finger ever since I managed to get it from the altar, and I’m a little nervous about forcing it off. I can foresee my finger coming off if we’re not careful enough, or the ring magicking itself back to the altar once it’s been separated from its current owner.”

“Yes, yes, both of those things would be rather…problematic.” 

Geez, that was one way of putting it. 

Sera sighed. “I suppose there’s nothing either of us can do about it right now. Perhaps it’ll be more cooperative once all of its pieces have been reunited.” 

You wish.

“Let’s hope so.” Lucian nodded his head, bringing his hand back down. The hiss of pain that shot out of his throat unexpectedly was genuine. It looked like moving his arm in that particular way had caused one of the many open wounds along the underside of his bicep to rub along his side. Which reminded him: “I don’t suppose you know how to heal some of these?” 

“Oh-oh! Yes, of course.” Sera’s nod was vigorous as she placed both of her hands on Lucian’s upper body. One on his chest, and the other against his back. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to expect when she began the process, but what he got was far more pleasant than he was ready to give her credit for. 

Waves of warmth—not heat, just warmth—flooded his system as a golden glow rose against his flesh. With each second that passed, a new mark was sealing itself up until Lucian looked as unblemished and unaffected as he had before entering the Pride Ring. He felt no pain as Sera worked, just remained completely entranced by the way his body sunk into the warmth of her magic. 

It reminded him of those rare days where he would wake up before his alarm went off, and just let himself enjoy the cozy sensation of being wrapped up in a blanket. During those times, he truly felt protected from the weather and the harsh life as a Sentinel, temporary as that safety always was. And illogical as it was to think that a blanket, of all things, would do anything to actually shield him.

It was such a shame that the Seraphim, as a whole and not just Sera herself, had turned out to be little more than corrupt liars. The ability to heal and provide people with this type of warmth would do wonders after what humanity has been through. 

“There.” Sera’s hands were slow as she removed them from Lucian’s body, like she was afraid that all of her work on him would come undone if she moved too quickly. It was the type of reaction you’d expect from someone with fresh stitches. “That should do it.”

Lucian gritted his teeth, forcing out a reasonably polite: “Thank you.” 

“Would you like to rest for a bit before your next jump?” 

Lucian had to think about that for a moment. If he wanted to play it safe with the cover story the Radio Demon helped him craft, he knew he had to give his body the chance to fake-recover sometime soon. 

Speaking from personal experience, one didn’t just encounter Roo’s forces and then proceed to go for a second round with less than a few hours of rest between those two events. At the same time, now that he had more information on who and what Sera was, letting himself be vulnerable in front of her—even if all of it was fake—felt risky in its own way. 

Creepy as well, but that was decidedly less important. 

He supposed if he wanted to push it, he could get away with resting after every couple of portals or so. Several factors could work in his favor as to how that was possible: his life as a Sentinel conditioned him to retain his stamina, his transition into a Sinner made him more resilient, he was sneakier going forward since he knew the consequences of letting himself get caught, the adrenaline was pushing him forward, etc. With how Sera couldn’t see him as he made his way to the altar, she had no choice but to believe whatever it was that he offered since he did technically succeed in bringing the ring pieces back (fake as they were). 

And so long as the Dominions followed the Radio Demon’s lead in only giving him cosmetic injuries to give off the impression of being hunted down by Roo, everything would still feel real enough to fool her. 

Yes, yes…that’s what he’d do. 

“No need.” Lucian shook his head. As he turned to step towards the second portal, he took a moment to wiggle his arms and legs. Usually, he’d be doing that to re-establish the feeling into his limbs if they’d been stiff for too long or it was a small warm-up if he knew he was about to do strenuous activity. Here and now, it was muscle memory that guided him, and it didn’t actually offer him anything. “I’ll grab this next one first. Then we’ll see how I feel.” 

“...alright, if you’re certain.” 

Just as Sera finished speaking, the booming sound that the first portal once made echoed through the room. Accompanying it was the same shift from silver to green, glyphs coming to life against the surface and the magic infused within the portal once again pushing at him—testing him.

Lucian stepped through the portal with ease, despite the magic’s oppressive presence. When he came out of the other side, it took a few moments for him to grasp what he was looking at. This wasn’t like Pride Ring, where the rundown hotel he’d stepped into was a familiar sight from his time alive. The scene he’d stepped into was something he’d only heard about in science class or fiction, having not grown up in an area where he’d ever encountered…any of this . 

He’d been dropped off in front of a volcano. A flipping volcano! One that looked to be active, if he was supposed to take the flowing lava and the openly glowing top at face value. From where Lucian stood, he couldn’t tell if the glow was from the lava or if it came from the floating sphere hovering just above the highest opening of the volcano. With how it resembled a mini sun, Lucian was betting that those spheres were the main source of light in this realm, and possibly a contributing factor to why it was so hot. 

If he wasn’t so concerned about standing front of a possible active volcano—because seriously, what the fuck?!—he’d actually admire how beautiful the formation of it was. There was so much more detail than just a mountain with a hole in the middle. 

In the very front, a waterfall of lava fell from the top and pooled into a large opening that looked to be cut out in the bottom. Had it not been lava, and therefore more than capable of melting Lucian’s skin off, he’d actually be tempted to stick a limb in there to see how liquidy the lava remained. Or if it just solidified once it reached the bottom, only to re-heat and liquify once more as it was recycled through the ground and brought back to the top of the volcano. 

Off to each side was a series of step-like platforms that housed their own little ponds of lava. Each one copied the main waterfall in how it took lava from the top, then slowly dispensed it downwards until the last smaller platform redirected the flow back to the opening on the ground. 

Between those platforms were a series of carvings. They didn’t look like symbols though, not in the same way that the glyphs on the portals did. They looked more similar to those background designs that might be seen in room or carpet decorations. And they glowed with the same scorching heat and bright flashes that the surrounding lava did. It was an impressive feat of carving; to be able to imprint them into the volcano’s surface without letting any lava spill out. 

It was much more exciting compared to when Lucian looked around to check the rest of the environment, no matter how dangerous it was to be standing in front of a live volcano. It was just desert everywhere else he looked. Canyons and sand; more canyons and more sand; and some extra canyons with some extra sand! Whatever patch of ground wasn’t dominated by volcanic formations was either a canyon or flat ground made of sand. 

Goodness, if humans didn’t already know the order of Hell’s Rings, the desert theme this Ring had taken after would be a slam-dunk of an indication that this was Wrath. With the Dominion himself looking like a sentient volcano that had been shaped like a statue, it suited him perfectly! 

Speaking of which, should Lucian assume that he was nearby and try calling out to him or-?

“What business does a mortal soul have in mah domain?!” 

Nevermind! It looked like General Satan was already on it. 

Lucian struggled to keep his balance as the ground beneath him suddenly began to shake. Despite the pure surge of power he could feel with each rumble, he would dare say it was actually quite tame to some of the earthquakes or attacks from Roo that he’s survived while still alive. At least these shakes were consistent in intensity rather than having those moments where there would be an abrupt surge in violence. They were also just gentler in nature; enough to cause individuals to lose their footing but not enough for nearby rock formations to come tumbling down. 

Emerging from the volcano Lucian had been dropped in front of was the Dominion himself. The giant waterfall of running lava acted as a lethal curtain, parting only when General Satan’s mass stepped out from behind its flow. The lava in the ground’s opening rippled at his feet, thin spheres beginning to form with each step forward he took. Even when he came to the edge of the lava lake, those ripped continued to spread until they were colliding into each other, creating new shapes in the lava. 

Which answered his question about what consistency that puddle of lava was, then.

The depictions that Earth was given of The Morningstar’s General were really off, from where Lucian was standing. Sure, the sheer size of the Dominion was pretty accurate, as difficult as it was to capture someone’s dimensions when working with a 2D space that—in itself—only had so much room (portraits only got so big, people!). But everything else? Humanity’s vague understanding of General Satan was disappointing. 

The lack of distinct features along his face and body were decidedly not true; he had very distinct limbs and patterns along his skin, some of which may have been tattoos while others could either be birth markings or battle scars. It was actually impressive just how many different shades of orange, red, and yellow could fit onto one body without blending into one another. 

The slightly curled horns coming out of his head were somewhat accurate. He did have two white and black ones coming out of the top surface, but he also looked to have two other red and black ones coming out of the side that humans missed. It reminded Lucian of a bull’s horns. 

The vein-like lines of lava that spread down his limbs and down his midsection were also somewhat accurate. He did have them, but they weren’t just on his arms. They were lines tracking down his wings as well; which, now that Lucian thought about it, had been missed completely as well. How did people miss that?! They were huge, even when pulled into a resting position. 

The reptilian spikes along his back were the only completely accurate details that humans seemed to get right. As were the four glowing slits that must be his eyes. 

As for the large hat that humans assumed to be a cowboy hat? Yeah, that was noticeably absent. Maybe his horns had accidentally been mistaken for a hat? Lucian supposed if he were to squint, the way his larger horns were shaped might make them look like the brim of a cowboy hat. 

But…wow. Just…wow. 

They really didn’t get General Satan right. 

“Speak, mortal! What business do ya have here?!” 

Oooooh, right, right, shit! 

Best not waste time when this was the most likely Dominion to kill him for intruding and ask questions later. 

“Uhhhh…” Lucian struggled to keep his tone even as he worked up the courage to speak. As respected as the Dominions were as The Morningstar’s followers, they were even rarer to come by than high-ranking Overlords. Actually, if Lucian was remembering correctly, mortal souls didn’t even have the power to summon them on their own. And even if they did, the Dominions usually kept to themselves in their own Rings rather than coming to Earth unless it was absolutely necessary. 

So, suffice to say, coming face-to-face with one was a terrifying experience. Not helped by how utterly massive this particular Dominion was! 

“I was sent by the Radio Demon!” Lucian winced as he shouted up at the General. He hoped the Dominion understood that he wasn’t trying to be disrespectful with his volume. He generally didn’t know if the other would hear him if he spoke in at his normal volume, and he didn’t want to risk angering the Dominion of Wrath by appearing as if he wasn’t cooperating with this mini interrogation. 

“He…uhhhh…he told me he talked to The Morningstar, about his plan? To-to…to take down the Seraphim that’s been hiding from all of you? I…uh….I-I assume…that’s been communicated to the rest of you? Maybe?” 

General Satan’s slits narrowed at that, the yellow-ish gold flashing a few times before he was lowering down. His legs bent until he was presumably kneeling in the lava, and his forearms were brought forward as braces that kept him upright as he leaned as far down as he could. When he stilled once more, he remained at least half a mile away from where Lucian stood. 

“Show me the ring.” The General’s voice lowered. 

Lucian didn’t know if it was because he was calmer now that he’d gotten an explanation or if it was something else, but he was grateful for it either way. His eardrums might have just popped if General Satan shouted in his face. They were closer now, the volume would have a much worse affect on his anatomy, even when he was technically already dead. 

“Here!” Lucian brought his left hand up, presenting the back of his hand so he could give the General the best angle of his gift from the Radio Demon. 

At the sight of Lucian’s proof, General Satan’s eyes widened slightly. 

“Hmmm…Ah must say, ya arrived sooner than expected.” The General unfolded his arms and brought his right hand forward, the tip of a deadly claw stopping just as it was about to graze against Lucian’s body. “Come. We’ll get ya outfitted with the second piece inside. It’s not wise to do it out here.” 

Nodding, Lucian carefully climbed into General Satan’s hand and hung onto the Dominion’s pointer finger for dear life as he was moved about. Even something as simple as the General rising to his full height was enough to wiggle Lucian around. Suffice to say, when he started walking—swaying and bobbing as your body naturally did—it felt the same as getting tossed around in rowdy waves. Had Lucian not been holding on to General Satan’s fingers, he probably would have been thrown off the Dominion’s palm after the first step. 

Geez, talk about being larger than life!

As they approached the lava-fall, General Satan’s other hand came around to shield Lucian from its path, and it remained hovering over Lucian’s body the deeper they walked into the volcano. 

The outside was very deceiving, now that Lucian was getting a little sneak peak into the true depth of General Satan’s…home? Headquarters? Office? Residence? 

Whatever the Dominion referred to it as, it was much more spacious and packed than the outside would have onlookers believe. After passing the lava-fall, General Satan brought them to the very back of the volcano. From there, a stairway going down had been carefully hidden against the back wall. Glowing orbs, similar to the ones topping the volcanoes but smaller in size, acted as torches as General Satan walked them down. As opposed to a straight staircase, like one might expect if they were descending into a mountain, this one had a spiral design to it. There was no center pillar, and no way of looking up to see the bottom of the stairs you’d already passed. But Lucian could still just tell from the turns that General Satan was making that they were going in circles as they descended. 

It was a good thing he had an escort for this one. At least in the hotel, he had been able to enter it without needing outside protection and he had a vague idea of where the altar would be. Had he come here without General Satan’s guidance, he not only would have struggled to get past the lava-fall, but he might have completely missed the mark. 

One didn’t equate ‘ underground ’ to ‘ the center of each realm ’. 

When General Satan finally reached the bottom of the stairs, he brought them to a doorway that had been carved into the rock. Two actual torches had been placed on either side of the threshold, illuminating the glyphs that had been carved into the surface. As was with every case before this, Lucian didn’t know what any of them said. He wasn’t even certain if the glyphs he’s been seeing were part of the same language or dialect, at this point. 

He just assumed that it was some type of warning or inscription that was related to the altar, given its placement. Maybe it was a label? Or a threat for intruders to turn back? 

“Can I ask something?” Lucian squinted as General Satan walked through the doorway. The light was much weaker in this particular area. Which might have made sense if he was trying to hide where the altar was. Except for one thing: only a few steps in, and Lucian could see the green glow of the orb he assumed to be cradled between the statue’s hands. 

“What is it?” 

“If you’re not giving me the real artifact, why bring me to it?” Lucian remembered how the Radio Demon had managed to conjure up the fake ring band even when they were presumably far from the altar. Of course, he could have harnessed some of its power or did something to it when Lucian was being retrieved from its location. It wasn’t as if Lucian was conscious enough to see what was going on. “Don’t get me wrong, I understand that it’d be foolish to do…whatever it is…you’re going to do out in the open. I just…I guess I’m still…uncertain…about how this altar and The Remnant of Heaven are supposed to work.” 

The General hummed in response, sounding quite contemplative as he stopped them just as they were about to bulldoze through the green orb. “Tuh create a believable fake, we must harness some power from the original. Small as it is, it helps make everythin’ more convincin’. ‘Specially since the Seraphim ya’ll be returnin’ ta still retains her ability ta sense different elements of the magic infused into the ring’s pieces.” 

“Oh…”

Ok, so maybe the Radio Demon did do something with the original ring piece when Lucian had been brought to him. Now that he thought about it with that lens, Lucian supposed it would make sense for the Radio Demon to either take the first ring piece and hide it somewhere close to his person or interact with it in some way that prevented it from leaving the Pride Ring altogether if he found that someone was trying to take it from its safeguard. 

“Not ta worry, mortal. None of Roo’s magic should affect ya as long as it remains trapped in the ring piece.” 

“Of course, of course.” Lucian didn’t think that The Mornigstar or the Dominions would be so careless in storying clearly dangerous magic away. And even if he was nervous, the fake ring band currently resting on his finger was proof that while he could feel the presence of magic, it didn’t actually affect him in any way. “So…uh…should I just stay up here while you do your thing, or…?” 

“Ah’d recommend closin’ your eyes.” 

Lucian could feel General Satan curling his fingers inward. His palm also creased slightly as he cupped it. 

“This might feel a bit overwhelmin’ at first.” 

From the movement of the air, Lucian could tell that General Satan was kneeling again. Well, that, and the green orb was getting closer as each second passed. The Dominion didn’t stop until Lucian was close enough to reach out and touch it; an unexpected feat for someone who was so large. 

How did he get Lucian so close to his target without accidentally knocking the altar over?

“Touch it.” The General whispered. “Ah’ll take care of the rest.” 

Swallowing, Lucian took a deep breath and pushed his left hand out. He had a strong feeling he’d fall unconscious when he made contact, so he tried his best not to panic when he felt himself grow dizzy or when his limbs felt too heavy to hold up. 

The General did say this might feel overwhelming. 

At least he got a verbal warning this time. And someone was around to make sure nothing went wrong.

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“What are ya doin’ here, Bee?”

“Can’t a concerned sis stop by to see how things are going?” 

“Yer ring is next, if ah recall. And besides, do ya really think ah’d let anything happen to him while he was in mah care?” 

“...no. But…can you really blame me for worrying a bit? When a guy literally known as Hell’s main military man jokes about putting Lucifer through trial-by-combat, people tend to take that seriously.” 

“Ah only said that because ah thought exposin’ ‘im to some of the Hellborns might bring about more memories. It’s hardly mah fault that Alastor waited until that suggestion ta tell me that Lucifer’s memories were locked in his soul fragments.” 

“Ok, fine, I guess that’s fair.” 

…

“Can you believe it’s been a century since the last reincarnation passed through here?”

“Unfortunately. Time has never felt slower between now and then. And ah’m sayin’ that as an immortal!”

“Yeah…still can’t believe God risked fracturing Lucifer’s soul just so he could keep parts of him up there. You’d think he, of all people, would understand the risks of separating one’s core into so many pieces.” 

“Well, we’ve always known that the Archangels were made with the intention of being superior to every being other than God himself. As much as ah hate givin’ the bastard any credit, he’d be the only one to understand how powerful his own creations were. Perhaps he knew Lucifer was resilient enough to take it.” 

“Maybe...still, fuck him. Fuck him to Hell and back.” 

“Of course. Once this last one is added to the collection, we have no reason to leave him be. As soon as Roo finds us a way into the Highest Sanctum, Hell will have its revenge.” 

“Fuck yeah. Heaven will rue the day it messed with Hell’s heart!” 

“Mah dear sister, if ya’ve spent even half the amount of time as ah have with Alastor when he’s in one of his moods, ya’ll know that the survivors already do.”

Chapter Text

When Lucian opened his eyes, it was to the same television screen look-a-like that baffled him the first time he fell unconscious. 

Was this going to happen every time he received a new piece for the fake ring? If so, maybe Lucian should mention it the next time he sees one of the Dominions. Because this felt like a violation of privacy, which was bad enough on its own. Add on how this was violating the privacy of The Morningstar himself, and everything just felt worse. 

You didn’t disrespect the Divine being who saved humanity even after being cast out by Heaven by poking into his business without his consent. You just didn’t. Not if you could help it. 

Which, unfortunately, Lucian truly couldn’t at the moment. 

Much like the first time, The Morningstar’s memory played out in front of him as if this was a movie being played at a theater. However, instead of taking place indoors, the surrounding environment gave off the impression that they were outside. Where outside? Lucian wasn’t sure. With the abundance of plant life and small bodies of water scattered about the ground, he was tempted to say The Garden of Eden. Those surely had plenty of forest life and adorable little ponds for the resting souls to admire, right?

Although, that would be assuming that this memory was based on an interaction that happened long after God had departed. And given that the first memory revealed The Morningstar was being incorrectly labeled as a Sin, Lucian wasn’t certain he could confidently say that the timeline matched in that sense. 

Plus, the Radio Demon was wearing much simpler attire compared to the regalia humans were used to depicting him in. Black pants with red fold-like lines at the bottom matched the black and red-ripped shoes he had. And for a top, he only wore a red long-sleeved shirt that had a black cross down the middle. Not like one would imagine in religious imagery, it was much too thin and the straight line down the middle was far too long compared to the one crossing over it. But a cross nonetheless. While such a sight could mean that he simply dressed differently when not tending to the masses (something that was extremely valid, Lucian and many other humans did that too), it could also mean that he hadn’t yet achieved a high position in The Morningstar’s circle to warrant a formal uniform. 

Ok…so right now, the working theory was that this memory was again taking place before God departed. Could that mean that the place The Morningstar and the Radio Demon were currently in was part of his palace? Maybe a garden? Or maybe The Morningstar had taken the Radio Demon to another Ring to have some private time? It certainly didn’t look like the something that would be found in the Pride Ring, from what Lucian’s seen so far. It was too city-like for this outdoors environment to thrive. 

“Hey Al, can I ask about something?” The Morningstar was resting his head on the Radio Demon’s thighs as the taller male sat himself against a tree and indulged in some light reading material. At least, Lucian assumed it was light with how thin that book was. 

“What is it, dear?” 

“Your powers…specifically, your shadow…” 

Since The Morningstar was facing the direction the sky would be, Lucian didn’t have the best view of his face. That being said, he could assume based on the tone and the downturn of The Morningstar’s lips that he was in deep thought. And Lucian knew a thing or two about what expressions people made when they were in deep thought. If there wasn’t a slight pinch in his forehead as his brows furrowed, there had to at least be a bit of a squint as he voiced his thoughts. 

“I don’t think I’ve come across a mortal soul who wields eldritch abilities. Actually, scratch that—the only being in all of Hell that I’ve had experience with is Freddy. I mean, Eldritch is literally in his name!”

“Oh?” The Radio Demon’s spindly fingers curled just slightly before he was shutting his book with a satisfying thud. His smile, which had looked perfectly content and relaxed moments before, stretched into something truly smug as he tilted his head down to look at The Morningstar. His eyes gleamed when their gazes met, shining with something darker than before but not necessarily malicious. Maybe it went hand in hand with the satisfaction his smile dripped with. “Are you saying that my powers are possibly on par with a member of the Sins’ high court, your Majesty?” 

Ah, the Sins title again. 

So, this was before God departed. 

Understood. 

It didn’t answer where this place was, but Lucian was sticking with his first gut instinct here now that it was clear that this was gearing up to be a private conversation: maybe a palace garden? Somewhere homey and safe if they were going to be sharing such a tender moment with one another. Somewhere away from the prying eyes of The Morningstar’s subjects, including even the other Dominions. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” The Morningstar chuckled nervously. “If you somehow managed to harness Freddy’s abilities, the sheer force behind his full power might just shatter your soul. At least, it probably would if you attempted such a feat on your own. Maybe if I found a way to hold you together, it’d be less risky-but! That’s not an invitation for you to try, Bambi!” 

The Radio Demon didn’t look offended as The Morningstar reached up to lightly flick at his chest in warning. In fact, he looked beyond delighted as he threw his head back and laughed. It was a light sound, but filled to the brim with genuinity and sincere joy. Certainly an entirely wholesome moment even when the topic of conversation could be argued to be far from innocent. Alas, The Morningstar only crossed his arms over his chest when it was clear that his words were potentially not being taken seriously. 

Lucian could bet that the smaller being was pouting up at the other. It’s probably what he would do in this situation. 

“AAAAAllll! I mean it! Don’t even entertain the thought of pushing yourself like that. I’ll be very cross with you if you leave me.” 

(Lucian forced himself not to zone in on how The Morningstar’s voice wavered just slightly as he said ‘ leave me ’. Just hearing it the first time caused an uncomfortably heavy and painful sensation to settle in his chest, he didn’t want it on loop.) 

The Radio Demon huffed shortly before adjusting their positions. As he hunched over, he moved his arms around so he was cradling The Morningstar properly. He pulled the smaller being up as he leaned down, stopping when their foreheads met in a gentle nuzzle. 

“I wouldn’t do that to you, my darling.” The Radio Demon’s gaze shifted from that darker edge to something undeniable soft; fond even. And his smile relaxed back into its previously content state as he adjusted The Morningstar so the other was laying across his body. It allowed The Morningstar to use the Radio Demon’s chest as a pillow, mimicking the position Lucian saw in the first memory. 

It was adorable that this was looking to be their default cuddling position. 

Their height differences made everything better. The Morningstar looked so safe when in the arms of his trusted companion. And the Radio Demon looked all too pleased to have someone he clearly cared about clutched so close. 

It almost made Lucian sad that he didn’t dedicate any time to finding a partner to share these types of moments with. 

Almost. 

He knew in his heart that he could never fully give himself to another, there was always a feeling of ‘ wrongness ’ that overtook him when he thought too much about seeking companionship. So, logically and emotionally, he knew it wouldn’t be fair to start a relationship when he knew that about himself beforehand. 

Still…this was a heartwarming moment to witness. 

Maybe it was enough to make up for his willing loneliness. Just a little bit. 

“Buuuuut I would be interested in hearing more about Mr. von Eldritch and his abilities, if you don’t mind. If the source of our magic is truly a rarity, even in Hell, one can’t help but be more curious about what’s been discovered and what has yet to be brought to light.” 

The Morningstar’s face was visible to Lucian now that he’s been turned to properly cushion his head against the Radio Demon’s chest. So, the human had the perfect view of just how unimpressed The Morningstar’s expression turned when the Radio Demon finished speaking. Frankly, Lucian couldn’t blame him. Didn’t he just ask the Radio Demon not to push himself out of fear of putting himself at great risk? 

“How about you answer my question and we go from there?” 

Well, that sounded like a reasonable compromise. 

The Radio Demon sighed, but it was clear to anyone who possessed a medium of common sense that it was all in good fun. The sound was too loud and the way his entire body moved with him had an exasperated air about it. Not to mention his tone, it was almost like he was whining when he conceded: “Ooooooh I suppose you were the one to ask first. Very well, dear, is there anything specific you were looking for?” 

“Well, I mean…not at first, but now…now that you mention it…” The Morningstar brought a hand up to rub at the bottom of his chin, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at nothing in particular. His brows furrowed, and Lucian swore he could hear the cogs turning in The Morningstar’s head as he thought about his next sentence. 

Or question, if they were going off of how the conversation had been going so far. 

“I guess…I guess I’m…most…interested in your shadow, specifically.” The Morningstar finally settled on a topic. “Freddy has one too, and I’ve seen him interact with it, almost in the same way you interact with yours. But…I-I just…I don’t…I don’t know if this makes sense, but yours…yours just seems like…like it’s actually…sentient? Independent? Like…Freddy’s is only an extension of his own being, and you can definitely tell that when you watch him command it around. But sometimes…sometimes, yours does things, or it doesn’t do certain things, and that really looks to me like it has a mind of its own.” 

“Before you continue, may I ask what you mean by ‘ does or doesn’t do certain things ’?” The Radio Demon’s brow rose, though he didn’t seem to care that The Morningstar couldn’t see it. 

“Well…it doesn’t always listen to you, for starters.” The Morningstar’s intense focus morphed into a completely new, completely overjoyed expression. His brows relaxed and his eyes closed while his lips split into a wide grin. There was a hint of mischievousness to his gaze as a series of sparkles and flashes—no joke—appeared at random. “How many times has Angel roped it into joining him for a good prank despite you telling it not to—oh, how do you put it—indulge in his nonsense?” 

The Radio Demon’s eye twitched slightly. “Far too many to count, I’m afraid. Many instances of which you’ve seen the results of, if memory serves me correctly.” 

“Yep!” The Morningstar practically chirped that answer. “Oh, oh! Remember that time you tried to do that melting thing you do with your shadows to teleport, but it held you hostage so Charlie could wrestle you into that Christmas sweater? That’s another good one!” 

“It was not! That was the most hideous thing my eyes have ever been forced to endure and it’s an unforgivable crime that it was allowed to exist at all!” 

“But that was the whole point! Ugly Christmas sweaters are totally a thing back on Earth!” 

“We’re not on Earth anymore! The ugliness can stay over there, thank you very much!” 

The Morningstar erupted into a peal of laughter at the utter indignance in the Radio Demon’s voice. He looked to be having such a good time that Lucian didn’t feel guilty for joining him in finding humor in the Radio Demon’s plights. His entire face was scrunched up now, and his body was trembling as if the laughter had literally taken over. Maybe it did; one should never underestimate the power of a good laugh. 

“Glad you find this amusing, dear.” The Radio Demon’s ears pinned themselves back as his eye continued to twitch. There was more of a rhythm to it now instead of just being a one-off gesture, and that was the only indication that perhaps he was genuinely getting a little annoyed now. 

Something that The Morningstar seemed to catch up on, even when he couldn’t see the taller demon’s face. His laughter died down not long after the Radio Demon had spoken, only the occasional giggle or huffed out chuckle escaping until what felt like a full five minutes had passed. By then, The Morningstar continued to smile, but there was no other outward sign that he had ever been nearly delirious in his amusement. 

“May we move on to what it does do now?” 

“Yeah…it reacts. It…feels.” The Morningstar’s smile turned wistful, and his eyes looked like they were on the verge of closing again with how they fluttered between remaining fully open and relaxing into something Lucian associated more with napping. Or the expression someone made when they were about to fall asleep after a hard day’s work. “I…I don’t know if…if you feel this, but…whenever…whenever we fight—actually fight—it…it always looks so…upset. It looks…sad.” 

The eye-twitching stopped, but what the rest of the Radio Demon’s expression did felt like an odd juxtaposition. On one hand, replacing the eye-twitching was the widening of his eyes. It would be easy to say that he was surprised or shocked to hear that. On the other hand, his smile tightened at the corners, enough that there were visible creases forming into his cheeks. Lucian would dare call them frustrated dimples. Which screamed more ‘ caught red-handed ’ vibes than it did anything else, an expression that implied that the Radio Demon did know about his shadow’s tendencies and just hoped no one else did. 

It was quite the interesting expression to pick apart. 

“And…it always comes to visit me if we spend the night apart, whether it’s because we fought or not.” The Morningstar curled in on himself slightly, an impressive feat for someone who already made himself look small in the Radio Demon’s hold. Speaking of which, it automatically tightened around The Morningstar, almost threateningly. Like the Radio Demon was daring some unseen force to even try coming close to them, let alone lay their hands on The Morningstar. “Let me tell ya, it has quite the grip. When it latches on, even warning it that I have to go to the bathroom doesn’t get it to let me go. Not right away, at least.” 

“...please tell me it doesn’t carry you there…” 

“How’d you guess?” The Morningstar giggled quietly. “It’s…a sweet gesture, I guess, that it likes to cuddle but also…you know…a little awkward…Having an audience when you’re trying to pee is kinda…you know…”

The Radio Demon sighed harshly. “I will speak to it about that. It should have better manners than to spy on you while you relieve yourself.” 

“I mean…I’m not mad about it, you know? It’s just…just a little…weird.” 

“It’s impolite, is what it is. But we digress.” The Radio Demon was silent for a moment. 

His brows furrowed and his lips pursed until it looked like he was sucking them into his mouth. He still retained a wide grin as his face contorted with thought though instead of turning downwards into a frown or taking on a more blank expression, something that made for an endearingly humorous sight the longer Lucian stared at it. 

“I suppose I should start by clarifying that my shadow is technically its own being, in a way. It’s not merely an extension of myself, as Mr. von Eldritch’s creation is.” 

“Ok, so…it has its own consciousness…?” 

“Yes.” As he spoke, the Radio Demon’s shadow—one that had lay dormant off to the side as he remained against his tree—suddenly began to move. Not just move as in travel across the ground, but also shift into something more defined and identical to the Radio Demon himself. It wasn’t just a typical blob of shadow that was cast on the ground when a source of light hit someone a certain way, now it actually looked like a black mimic of the Radio Demon’s upper half. 

It had the Radio Demon’s small antlers, it had his ears, it had the perfect shape to his eyes, it had the slight bob that his hair naturally fell into, it even had little sharp triangles for teeth! 

And how could Lucian forget…the smile. 

The shadow was smiling up at The Morningstar and the Radio Demon as it slithered from its previous spot on the ground to The Morningstar’s front. 

For his part, The Morningstar squealed in absolute delight as he saw the shadow. He turned so his entire back was resting against the Radio Demon’s front and opened his arms to accept the shadow in his hold. The shadow, in turn, eagerly nuzzled into The Morningstar after it tucked its little head under the Divine being’s chin. Its own copy of the Radio Demon’s arms wrapped around one of The Morningstar’s arms, leaving the other one free to come up behind the shadow and begin scratching behind the creature’s ears. 

Lucian said this in the least demeaning way possible, but this scene honestly made the shadow seem more like your typical domesticated dog than a powerful eldritch being. Not that that was bad! It was adorable. Just…surprising as well, was all. 

“Hey there, cutie.” The Morningstar cooed. “Did you hear us talking about you? Huh? Did you?” 

The shadow answered The Morningstar with a gentle buzz of static. 

“As I was saying,” The Radio Demon directed his gaze to his shadow over The Morningstar’s shoulders, “my shadow has always been its own entity that bonded with my soul. Made more powerful as I, its chosen vessel, also grew in power.” 

“Right, right, I guess that makes sense.” The Morningstar turned just slightly so he was somewhat facing the Radio Demon. It was quite an awkward angle to be at; one side of his neck looked like it had to stretch upwards so he could clearly see his companion without fully losing sight of the shadow. 

Lucian hoped Divine beings couldn’t pull muscles or pinch nerves. He knew they could get hurt, but it surely wasn’t the same as when humans found ways to accidentally injure themselves?

“Sooooo…you being bonded explains why it stays with you. And why you can use it to teleport about or spy on other people. But because it’s always been its own person, it’s always technically had the choice of whether to listen to you or not. That explains a lot.” 

“Indeed.” 

“How did you guys meet then?” The Morningstar turned back towards the shadow when the creature began to purr. It wasn’t like a cat’s, there was still too much static that disrupted the base sound, but there was a slight rumbling aspect to the buzzing it was already making that likened it to a feline’s purr more than any other comparison. “Was it on Earth? I think I remember you saying once that you liked to dabble in the dark arts while you were still alive…”

“I did.” The Radio Demon’s voice took on a somber note. “It wasn’t always that way. When my Mamman was still alive, the rituals we partook in were significantly more innocent in nature.”

“When you say rituals, what are we talking about here…?” 

“Voodoo, darling.” The Radio Demon chuckled dryly. “Believing the existence of multiple Gods, paying homage to their good names, gifting offerings to provide them spiritual sustenance, calling upon their powers and blessings to aid us as we survived another day. My Mamman…she…she always wanted me to retain certain roots of our ancestor’s practices. Even if we had to do them in secret, at least I still grew up recognizing the magic that flowed through my heritage.” 

The Morningstar didn’t outright pause in how he was stroking the shadow’s ears, but there was a newfound slowness—a softness; caution—to his movements as the Radio Demon recounted his life in the mortal world. Lucian wondered if he was sad or not, having to listen to his companion recount memories that may well have been painful since they spoke of a life he had to leave behind. He, personally, felt sympathy for the Radio Demon even though he had no background context that could help orient him to the Radio Demon’s backstory. 

From his tone alone, it sounded like there had been a lot going on in his life. 

“As soon as she’d first introduced me to our ancestral rituals, I immediately knew I’d want more. I wanted to learn about everything the world had to offer—good or bad. But…when she was alive, I hadn’t wanted to taint her teachings by using her work for anything nefarious. It was only after she died that it felt like there was nothing left to protect.” The Radio Demon’s voice picked up more static as he continued. “Once I was certain she had ascended, I went my own way. I learned of new rituals—malicious ones—I offered new gifts to the creatures that surrounded us, I called upon new Gods and Goddesses, and I demanded new blessings in return.” 

The Morningstar nodded his head slowly, looking completely unbothered and wholly curious as he asked: “Was your shadow an entity that blessed you, then?” 

“Not exactly. It was the actual blessing.” The shadow perked up slightly. “It’s been so long since it happened, but…I do remember summoning a demon in preparation for killing my father. I was curious as to whether there was a way to bind his soul to me so I could torment it for all eternity.” 

As someone who had a fairly normal and loving relationship with their dad, Lucian found that desire on the Radio Demon’s part to be a bit disturbing. But he did his best not to judge! He knew that not everyone had the same type of familial relationships that he had. He’s had colleagues who had unsupportive parents and met victims whose parents were so shitty that they tried sacrificing their child to Roo’s forces so they could get away. 

Maybe the Radio Demon was unfortunate enough to be stuck with a particularly shitty father. 

Not that having shitty parents necessarily made it ok to want to kill them and then spend eternity torturing their souls! Lucian didn’t know where he stood on that issue right now. It was just easier to understand the Radio Demon’s wrath if he did indeed have a bad father. 

“I had offered them my newest victim in exchange for the information I desired. I can only assume that was the reason they were so cooperative with me.” 

“Huh…I didn’t know there were many Sinners or Hellborns who’d have the information you wanted in the first place. That sounds like something a Goetia or a Sin would be dealing with, and I don’t think any human has ever been lucky enough to just stumble upon the knowledge to summon them. Usually, it’s the cults who have the best chance. And from what Stolas has told me, even then, they usually only get so far as to alert him that he’s being called. Most aren’t powerful enough to actually pull him to Earth.” 

“Well, I’d offer you more on that if I remembered more, but…well, as I’ve said-”

“You don’t remember?” 

“Unfortunately not.” The Radio Demon offered The Morningstar a quick kiss to the top of his head as an apology. “Anyway, I was given the necessary glyphs and incantations for such a ritual from my informant and allowed them to return to Hell once I had no more use for them. Then I paid a visit to my dear old father and, well, you can probably guess what happened.” 

“You killed him?” 

“Yep! I ensured he properly understood the horrors he put my darling mother through, then bound his soul to mine once he was dead. He would never escape me then!” A crazed gleam entered the Radio Demon’s eyes as he finished speaking. And it remained as his shadow began laughing from its place still in The Morningstar’s arms. “My good friend was the result of that.” 

“Wait, so…it’s made from your father’s soul?” 

“Well, him, and several others that I’ve taken as trophies over the years.” The Radio Demon’s left hand came around to gently take hold of The Morningstar’s chin. He pulled until the shorter male was facing him, and lowered his head until they were less than an inch apart. When he spoke, the static had dampened, replaced with a slight growl. “You remember how I earned my reputation, don’t you, little angel?” 

The Morningstar’s cheeks turned gold. 

Lucian assumed it was his version of what a blush would look like on a Divine being, given that it was only his cheeks that seemed to be affected. They probably didn’t have the same type of blood that humans did. Right? At least, that was the impression that Roo’s forces gave off. They didn’t release red blood when they were injured, they let out a black tar-like substance that burned human flesh if someone was foolish enough to touch it without proper protection. 

A being as Divine as The Morningstar bleeding gold felt appropriate. 

Lucian didn’t hear how The Morningstar responded. Like the previous time, the ‘ screen ’ suddenly brightened and he felt himself being pulled out of whatever strange mind-realm he had ended up in. 

His time was up. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

Having known that General Satan was with him when he fell unconscious, it was relatively easier for Lucian to keep his calm as he woke up. It was still disorienting, unfortunately, but there was no panic that was so intense it hurt him or any urgency to escape that drove him mad. He was given time and space to process where he could be now, and what memory he’d just seen. 

Slowly, steadily, Lucian blinked several times to ensure he was truly back in the real world before attempting to sit up. Only, there wasn’t much he needed to do in that department. Unlike with the Radio Demon, he hadn’t been placed down in a horizontal position after falling unconscious. He was already sitting up; General Satan had left him in a well-cushioned chair that helped keep him relatively upright even if he was slightly tilted to the right. 

Across from him, General Satan was sitting in his own cushioned chair, a book held in his right hand and a teacup cradled in his left. It was a large teacup, don’t misunderstand, but the overall appearance still gave off an air of delicacy that almost looked silly against the solidness of General Satan’s hand. 

In front of both of them, a bright fire roared with life. Its flames flicked and twisted in the air, tireless in its constant state of motion. It should have made the room unbearable, given how this was clearly a biome that favored volcanoes and dry weather. But Lucian didn’t actually feel any different than if he was in a lukewarm room. 

It was confusing to think about, so he blamed it on magic and called it a day. 

“General?” Lucian called. “Did…did it…work?” 

“It did.” The General hummed, not looking up from his book. He took a moment to take a careful sip of his tea though, before nodding towards Lucian. “Look at yer ring.” 

Oh, right, of course!

Bringing his left hand up, Lucian noticed the newest addition immediately. Staring back up at him was a circular stone that glowed bright orange. Red? Orange mixed with red? Red and orange and yellow all at once? Whatever he should call it, it was the same shade of color the lava had been, and the same shade that General Satan’s vein-like markings were. It was a clear tie to his realm. 

Second one down. 

Which meant that they needed to move on to the next bit…the less simple bit…

“So, how do you wanna do this?” Lucian hesitantly looked back at General Satan. “Are you just gonna…burn me? Or…cut me again? Or…do we need to break some bones, or…?” 

“Yer quite nonchalant about the expectancy of pain.” 

Lucian wouldn’t say that . He has just…accepted…that some pain might be necessary to continue selling the story he’s been asked to craft for Sera. 

He didn’t not care that he was supposed to get hurt, it just didn’t matter to him more than his end goal did. But he doubted the General wanted to hear that little ramble, so he kept his lips shut and awaited the Dominion’s answer. 

General Satan placed his teacup on its saucer, which had been precariously balanced on the arm of his chair. His book went next; once the General had marked his place with a folded corner at the top of the page, he shut it gently and placed it on the other arm. 

“But, no to all of that. It’d be too damn easy for me ta break ya if we tried any of those options. So, yer cover story for mah realm will be that ya managed to trick the monsters guardin’ the altar to fight each other. And ya slipped past them while they were busy dukin’ it out. Sound fair?”

“Uhhhh…yeah! Yeah, sure.” Lucian probably wouldn’t believe his luck if that had actually happened, but he would also probably be able to logic his way into believing it if he tried hard enough. 

These were meant to be copies of the Wrath Ring, so maybe the creatures residing in it were also more wrathful than the creatures in other copies? Maybe they were less coordinated, more temperamental, and so attacked their own kind as well as any intruder who tread upon the same ground they did? 

See! 

Right there!

Lucian did it; he managed to logic his way out of disbelief!

“Before I go, I have one more question.” Speaking of using logic, there was one element to this whole thing that he hasn’t been able to figure out. Not that he’s really tried, mind you, but it would still be nice to get an answer as to why it was happening when he had a Dominion nearby to hopefully give him something to work with. “These past two pieces…I think…I think I’ve been…getting, or…more like…seeing…someone else’s memories every time I touch another altar.”

“Someone else’s memories?” General Satan didn’t look or sound concerned, which was probably a good thing, right?

“Yeah. They’re just moments though! Like…like if someone’s life was a movie, and I’m only seeing specific scenes-”

“I get it, I get it.” General Satan nodded his head and pushed himself up from his chair. His wings stretched out from behind him, fluttering about as they presumably worked to return feeling into the nerves after being in rest for some time, and then settled down after a minute or two. “What yer probably seein’ has something to do with the magic rollin’ around in each containment field. Despite being contained in a vessel, it’s still tied to its caster, and that tie can…pull things in, so ta speak…if an outside source becomes immersed in it. Ah can’t explain it fully, but ya shouldn’t worry ‘bout it. It doesn’t do anythin’ ta ya, and it won’t do anythin’ ta the other person. Just…let it in. If ya resist it, ya risk rejectin’ the bit of magic our fake rings needs—and that’s when bindin’ the newest piece becomes challengin’.” 

“Oh! Ok, ok, understood.” 

So, this was a normal thing then. Or, maybe not completely normal, but it was something that was bound to happen due to the combination of magic swirling around in each new piece. Lucian could see how that would make sense to someone who understood the intricate details of the spells and powers at play needed to keep Roo’s split core at bay. 

Maybe that someone wasn’t him, but he didn’t care. As long as General Satan reassured him he didn’t have to concern himself with anything, he wouldn’t. 

He trusted the Dominion. 

“Now, how’s ‘bout we get ya back to that portal?” 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Alastor, dear, I’ve been wondering something…”

“Hmmm?” 

“I understand that you don’t want to hurt Lucifer; well, more than he already has to be hurt in order to regain custody of his soul fragment, but is relying on his happiest memories truly the best course of action? Loathe as I am to admit it, it is his triumphs and his struggles that helped shape him. He needed to feel the satisfaction of finally conquering his fear of Heaven to stand up to them once more. Did he not?” 

“Well, I’m certain the need to keep sweet Charlotte, his Sins, and I safe also played a role in that. If he was only in it to spite Heaven, that wouldn’t provide him with much inspiration when his last attempt at rebellion had long lasting, traumatic effects. ” 

“Fair enough. But…you understand what I’m getting at, don’t you? As much as I detest saying this…relying on his happiest moments might not give us our Lucifer back. If you’re not careful, you might accidentally summon his angelic counterpart. And as lovely as he was in The Garden, his naiveness will only cause him to crash and burn when confronted with what the universe has become. Probably worse than when he first Fell. Is that truly better than easing him into everything through those memories?” 

“As confusing as this might sound…it is, my Lady. You recall the first reincarnations that passed through Hell? Well, I too had hoped that easing Lucifer’s consciousness into remembering his life would be better than hiding everything until the very end. Alas, there must be something particularly delicate about the human psyche these days. Those poor darlings broke before a full week had passed.”

“Ah, so that’s the real reason they died? A mercy kill on your part?” 

“...well, no…the first one really did kill himself because it was too much to take on. It was the second and third reincarnations that met their ends at my hands. I couldn’t stand being so…helpless!...in the face of their suffering. It was worth it though! Had I kept them alive, I would have never confirmed that Lucifer’s soul fragments could be returned to Hell at all.”

“True, true. Although, I suppose that leaves me with a new concern: what will you do when you have all the fragments? You won’t be strong enough to maintain the blocks you have now. His mind might just break anyway.”

“I’m hoping it won’t. Since I’ll have all of the fragments, I’ll have everything I need to bring him back whole. No missing pieces or uncertainty; he’ll know who he is and how much Hell has missed him. I can still count on your assistance for forcing the fragments back together, can’t I?” 

“Of course! I’ve been ready for his return ever since he was first stolen from us.”

Chapter Text

“Alright, ya be careful ‘round that Seraphim, ya hear me?” 

“Of course, General.” Lucian hopped off of General Satan’s hand, and before entering the portal, turned to salute the Dominion. He reached his left arm across his chest and pounded his fist against his right shoulder. “Allow me to just say it was an honor to meet you in person.” 

“Huh; well, thank ya younglin’.” The General waved Lucian off, whipping around the air but careful not to accidentally smack Lucian down while the human was still so close to his clawed fingers. “Gotta admit, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a human soul I haven’t wanted to extinguish. I usually only see the ones we put on trial!” 

Lucian’s nervous chuckle was nearly drowned out by General Satan’s cackle. “Right…well, I’ll be going now. Thank you for your assistance.” 

“Don’t mention it. Just keep up your spirits, and good luck!” 

Bowing his head as a final act of respect, Lucian then turned to dive back through the portal. After being in the Wrath Ring for so long and getting used to the warmer atmosphere, Sera’s little limbo dimension actually felt a little cold. No joke; he shivered once his entire body had transitioned from General Satan’s domain to Sera’s room. Not for too long, but long enough that it caught Sera’s attention, if her widened stare was anything to go by. 

“Are you alright?” She approached him cautiously. With no obvious injuries this time around, she appeared more hesitant to lay her hands on him. It was nice; he needed a moment or two to himself as he tried to re-regulate himself to ‘ normal ’ temperatures. “Are you hurt? Do you need me to heal anything?” 

“Not this time.” Lucian forced his teeth together to keep them from chattering. If it made him sound like he was suffering through a stomach ache or a round of constipation, then he didn’t care enough to dwell on it. “I managed to trick Roo’s minions into attacking each other this round. They were too busy taking each other out to notice I was even there.” 

“Oh, that’s a relief.” Sera sighed, a look of relief taking over her facial expression as she continued to look down at Lucian. He couldn’t tell if she had suddenly gotten better at acting, or if she was genuinely relieved that her current puppet had managed to survive another Ring so she could use him for the next one. But whatever was going on, the thought of remaining the sole focus of her attention for much longer was making him extremely uncomfortable. 

Now would probably be the best moment to insist on that break. 

“The piece attached itself to the ring without having to do anything on my part.” Lucian brought up his left hand and showed Sera the back of it so she could see the new stone. Gem? Crystal? Whatever it was. “I think I’d like some rest before I get the next one. Even if I managed to avoid getting attacked, getting to the altar was more difficult. I had to climb down a volcano just to get to the right spot!” 

Sera flinched back at Lucian’s description. “Right, right…of course. Here-” 

She gestured for him to walk over to the altar, which he did, albeit slowly and hesitantly. When he got close enough to touch it, she snapped her fingers and a cot appeared right next to him. There was some cushioning on the top surface, but not much more than that. It reminded him of the scarce supplies he and his group would be left with when they had to camp out after scouting an abandoned refuge or if their patrol took them too far from the city’s border. 

“Right…thank you.” Lucian stiffly lowered himself onto the cot and turned so he was facing the ceiling. It would be stupid to give his back to Sera, so turning to face the altar wasn’t an option. But it also felt too strange to turn to face her directly. Keeping her within his line of sight wasn’t worth the array of disgust and anger that built up within him when he entertained the thought of secretly watching her as he pretended to rest. 

So, on his back it was. At least he’d be able to react quickly if she tried anything. 

“Rest well, Mr. Magne.” 

Lucian hummed as a way of signalling he heard her, then closed his eyes to begin his facade of sleeping. 

For all intents and purposes, he truly hadn’t meant to actually fall asleep . His body was a little worn, but certainly not drained enough that he should have been tired. Not to mention the state of his mind! Knowing he was in the room with a Seraphim filled him with such a vast amount of adrenaline that sleep should have been entirely impossible. 

And yet, after what felt like only a few minutes of keeping his eyes closed and relying on his hearing to tell him whether Sera was moving around or not, he was sinking into…something. Something else was with him, in his head. Something was beckoning him to fall into it; to fall deeper than he had wanted. Something was pulling and pulling and pulling at his consciousness until he lost control of it completely and surrendered to the darkness dancing at the edge of his vision. 

What the-?

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“Are you sure this looks ok?” The Morningstar’s voice, laden with uncertainty and just a hint of fear, echoed through the darkness long before the image of his equally hesitant form projected itself in front of Lucian. He was hunched forward slightly, arms crossing over his chest as he hugged himself. His bottom lip had been taken between his teeth, and his brows were furrowed as he looked down at the rest of himself. 

He was standing on a circular platform that was raised an inch or two off the ground, with a curtain pushed off to the side. Directly behind where The Morningstar stood, empty hangers swung lightly from where they were hung on a small hook, as if they’ve only recently been disturbed from their resting position. 

…another memory?

But…but…but…

But Lucian had already had this experience! He collected the second ring piece, saw the memory attached to the magic swirling around in the containment vessel, got the fake stone from General Satan, and moved on. Why was this happening again? Unprompted, at that?

Was it because of the small bit of power from the original? General Satan didn’t mention what, exactly, triggered memories to be shared to Lucian, but if it was all about being immersed in the magic of the casters, then…well…

Maybe this would just happen from time to time? 

So long as it didn’t hurt anyone, Lucian supposed that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Though, it did also continue to make him feel a bit guilty (and creepy) when he remembered that these weren’t his memories, yet he was still being given the opportunity to gawk at them. Likely when the owner of said memories didn’t know it was happening! 

Geez, he really needed to get the rest of those pieces soon. 

“Of course, my darling!” The Radio Demon sounded excited as he spoke, though he didn’t appear in the memory as prominently as The Morningstar did. In fact, Lucian couldn’t see him at all. He was ‘ off screen ’, if Lucian was to use ‘ movie lingo ’ to describe what was happening here. “You look absolutely stunning! Why; I’m almost nervous about letting you attend the Overlord ball now. None of those heathens will be able to take their eyes off you!” 

Lucian tilted his head as he took in The Morningstar’s outfit. A being that was created to be the most beautiful would surely pull off any outfit, so he was a little confused as to why The Morningstar seemed fearful of his reception. Being humble was one thing, but this type of insecurity? Why should The Morningstar have to suffer that?

Especially since the Radio Demon was right, he was enchanting. 

Even when the outfit he was wearing didn’t look like it fit him (it was big enough that certain parts fell to the floor while he had to hold up other bits), the design still looked perfect on him. His dress clearly had a theme that matched his identity as a celestial being; stars were littered across the skirt, which in itself had a flow of various purples and blues colored into the fabric. It was like the designer was mimicking the aesthetic of space; the galaxy. 

Gold patterns were sewn into the outer edge of the skirt and along the main portion of the dress’s bodice. Had Lucian not been the wiser, he would assume that all of the gold traveling up The Morningstar’s torso and around his shoulders was actually jewelry. It was so intricate, and it stuck out so well against the darker shades of the rest of the dress. 

Because the front of the skirt was shorter than the back, The Morningstar’s legs were exposed. He wore black legging-like pants to cover his modesty, and completed the look with some impressively high-heeled boots that had gold buckles lining up the front. Once the buckles reached his thighs, they were sealed with one final strap and then split into two wings; one wing opening up to one side of the boot, and another opening to the other side of the boot. 

The Overlords attending the gala The Morningstar and the Radio Demon were clearly preparing for would be lucky to be in The Morningstar’s presence. 

“Ok, ok…I…I trust you…” The Morningstar smiled towards the front of the ‘ screen ’. The corners of his lips were wobbly, and there was still plenty of uncertainty clouding his gaze as he presumably looked to the Radio Demon for more reassurance. “I trust you, Al.” 

“As you should, though I dislike your lack of confidence in your own skin.” There was some rustling in the background before the Radio Demon was walking up to the platform. His back was to Lucian, and since he was much taller than The Morningstar, he also covered Lucian’s sight of the Fallen Angel. “What troubles you, mon cher? Do you dislike the dress? I won’t make you wear it if you’re truly uncomfortable-”

“No, no, it’s great! I love the design. Really!” 

Ok, that was a complete 180° to the meekness The Morningstar had displayed moments ago. Now, he sounded a little offended that the Radio Demon proposed the option of taking the outfit off. 

What was going on here?

“I-I guess…I guess this just feels…different. A little too different for me to like right away.” 

“How so?” The Radio Demon’s ears flicked lightly before pinning themselves against his head. 

“Well…I know that the Sins and…and you guys at the hotel…I know you guys are…respectful. You guys have been really supportive, and I’m grateful for that.” Some rustling followed The Morningstar’s statement. Lucian has fussed with his clothes enough times to know what it sounded like when someone else did it. Even if his uniform was made from a different material as The Morningstar’s dress, there were only so many sounds clothes could make as they were being pulled at or smoothed down. “But…but some of the other Overlords…I don’t-I don’t think I trust what goes on in their heads, you know? Especially that moth creep!”

The Overlords would make trouble for The Morningstar? 

That sounded ridiculous! It was widely understood that all of the Sinners entrusted with the title ‘ Overlord ’ in the first place had earned and kept their position because they were favored by The Morningstar. He trusted them to maintain order amongst the other Sinners; he trusted that they returned his guidance with appropriate obedience so as to maintain the harmony between the Divine ruling powers and the mortal souls. 

To hear that an Overlord who would disrespect The Morningstar ever existed…

Lucian wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t listening to the implication come from The Morningstar himself. It was just unthinkable!

“Even when I’m fully covered, he’s way too good at making me feel like he’s undressing me with his eyes.” The Morningstar sighed, torn between sounding angry and fearful. “And the remarks he makes…he and that TV guy…I just-! I don’t…like…how they sexualize everything! Everytime we share a room, it’s either a fight or a battle of innuendos. And I…damnit…I hate that! I don’t know how Carmilla or Zestial can stand having the Vees in attendance. I just…can’t.” 

Would comparing The Morningstar to a wilting flower be inappropriate right now? Because the air of defeat that replaced the previous anger-mixed-with-fear painted a really vivid image of a decaying flower in Lucian’s mind. 

It was…heartbreaking. 

Frankly, it was always awful when humans took advantage of other humans. Lucian would honestly say that he held molesters and rapists in worse regards than he did killers (unless they were child killers, then they were even again). Because when you killed someone, at least they got away from you. And assuming they lived a relatively sin-free life, they’d end up in The Garden of Eden, where they’d have plenty of time and distance from their attackers to heal. When you molested or raped someone, more often than not, they had to live with that feeling. They had to live with the helplessness that overtook them, they had to live with the fear of what had happened and what could happen again. They had to live with a great sense of shame that was wrongly placed on them by their own goddamned psyche when it should be the actual criminal who bore that burden. 

To hear that The Morningstar once lived in an age where he feared such a violation from the Sinners he helped elevate to powerful positions, that…that was just…

That was so ungrateful of them! That was utterly vile, and Lucian hoped that the Dominions or the other Overlords disposed of the disrespectful pigs that dared to try imagining such filth. Actually, no, scratch that—it must have happened since there were no moths or TV Overlords currently known to the rest of humanity. 

Let Lucian correct himself: he didn’t just hope they had been disposed of, he hoped it hurt. 

“I…I like feeling pretty, Al.” The Morningstar sighed again. This time, Lucian couldn’t pick out anything unique that would help him pinpoint what The Morningstar was feeling. If he had to hazard a guess though, maybe the Divine being was just tired?

If he truly did have to watch himself because of perverted Overlords, that must already be an exhausting experience on its own. Coupled with the onslaught of emotions that accompanied said experience, and Lucian would probably be tired of socialization too. 

“I like looking nice, and I like it when other people think I look nice. I just…I don’t-”

“You don’t like having that type of attention, as you shouldn’t.” There was a bit of growl to the Radio Demon’s voice. The hand not holding his cane moved forward, and the height at which it rested suggest that he was touching either The Morningstar’s face or his shoulder. It was probably his way of comforting The Morningstar without accidentally pushing any boundaries, given the topic of their conversation. “Those wretches…I’m terribly, terribly sorry that they’ve made you feel unsafe in your own skin. But, why didn’t you tell me sooner? Or has this only recently begun?” 

As much as Lucian hoped the latter was the case, something told him that The Morningstar wouldn’t be behaving so fearfully if this was only a recent ‘ thing ’. 

Maybe he was drawing on his own experiences from handling victims of various forms of abuse, but the level of weariness he was getting from The Morningstar hinted that this has been going on for a while. Maybe it hasn’t gotten ‘ as bad ’ as it clearly has until now (and when Lucian said ‘ now ’, he meant whenever this memory took place) but there was definitely something going on. 

“I…I guess…” The Morningstar grew quieter with each new word, until he was whispering to the Radio Demon. “I guess I just…thought…I’d be making a bigger deal out of it than necessary. I mean, what would complaining have done? Like I said, Valentino just has this…way…of looking at me even when I’m wearing perfectly normal clothes! What should anyone else be expected to do in that situation?! If he’s finding something to look at or…or…or imagine…even when I’m just acting normally, then what do you do?”

“Gauge his eyes out?” The Radio Demon’s ears pointed straight up at that, and Lucian could swear he saw the material of the red overcoat he was wearing wiggle near the waistline. It was like something was moving underneath it. His tail, perhaps?

(Oh gosh, if the Radio Demon’s tail was wagging, that would be unfairly adorable.) 

“I’d be more than happy to give a little… demonstration …of what happens to those who disrespect you. And really, when it comes to Valentino in particular, I’m sure even Charlie can admit that anything I do to that fiend would have been a long time coming.” 

“...and when that triggers a needless war between the other two Vees and the hotel?” 

“Darling, you know it wouldn’t just be the hotel they’d be up against. Think carefully; do you think ANYONE in that meeting room likes the Vees? Other than the Vees themselves?” 

“I thought it was just you and Vox that had a known rivalry? Or has Velvette managed to upgrade herself from a nuisance to an actual rival to Carmilla?” 

“Hah! The little brat wishes she was on the same level as Miss Carmine! No, no, you don’t need to be rivals in the same way Vox and I are to instigate a war between Overlords, my dearest. If the Vees are bold enough to retaliate against a justifiable punishment—which, mind you, doesn’t have to end in Valentino’s death, necessarily—the other Overlords have no reason to side with them. On the contrary, aiding His Majesty in protecting Princess Charlotte’s hotel would be in their best interest. Even if it doesn’t earn them any favors from you, it’ll keep them from suffering your wrath!” 

“...I didn’t get the impression that they were that scared of me in the first place.” 

“Of course they are! You are overwhelmingly superior to all of them combined. They just know that they need to hide that fear, lest they give you an advantage over them.” 

“If I’m overwhelmingly superior, don’t I already have the advantage? What does putting on a front do?” 

“It keeps you from poking at any visible weakness, my liege!”

“I could supposedly do that anyway. So that still doesn’t make sense!”

“It does to an Overlord. Think of it like this, my darling-” The Radio Demon leaned down, stopping when his head looked like it was at the same level as the hand that had reached forward to touch The Morningstar. “Everyone in Pentagram City knows that you could wipe them out with a mere flick of your fingers. They also know that there’s nothing they can do about that! They must simply live with that unsettling knowledge. But…they can do something about denying you any pleasure in toying with them if they put on a convincing-enough front. Tell me; if it was I who was more powerful than you, would you be so quick to snap your teeth back at me when I used to have my fun with you? Knowing I could end you without a care in the world…would you openly show me any hint of weakness for me to rip at for laughs?” 

“So…what are you saying…? That…that they expect me to…to exploit…their fear if they let it show? Somehow worse than I already would if I was that type of person?” 

“Yep! I believe the saying goes: ‘ playing with your food ’.” 

“That might make more sense if we were on the same playing field, but we keep coming back to the part where you admit I’m more powerful than all of them combined! What does it matter what I see or don’t see? If I have the power to end them either way…?” 

“Putting on a mask deprives you of any satisfaction should you prolong the process.” The Radio Demon’s tone took on a deadpan intonation. “Let’s just leave it at that. Now! Back to my first question: would you like me to relieve Valentino of his eyes during the ball? Yes? No? Maybe?” 

The Morningstar groaned, though when Lucian listened very closely, he could pick out a few hitches of breath that sounded suspiciously like light laughter. Maybe some chuckling. 

Someone was amused, if not also still frustrated from the Radio Demon’s confusing explanation. 

“As your partner and someone who’s just done with the Vees, I want to say yes. As Charlie’s father and the one who’s supposed to be supporting her dreams, I think I should be practicing what she preaches and say no. How about we wait until he actually tries anything? At least we’ll have a solid defense if Charlie gets upset.” 

“As I’ve said before, after what Charlie’s seen, I think she’d agree with me if I decided to try a more hands-on approach to…disciplining…Valentino, should he overstep his bounds in concerns to you. But…if you wish to maintain the peace for now, I won’t go out of my way to make that more difficult than it already is.” 

“Thanks, Al.” 

Since Lucian still couldn’t see past the Radio Demon’s backside, he couldn’t tell what was going on as the silence stretched between The Morningstar and the Radio Demon. The Radio Demon was still leaning down, so maybe they were nuzzling into each other? As they’ve done in the first couple of memories he’s seen? They did seem to be rather soft with each other. Or maybe they were just gazing into each other’s eyes? Taking comfort in each other’s presence and rejecting the distractions of the outside world?

If that was the case, then the wholesomeness of that totally balanced out the violence that the Radio Demon seemed eager to inflict upon that ‘ Valentino ’ character. 

“I know I shouldn’t let what they do get to me.” The Morningstar eventually broke the silence. Lucian could hear him take a few deep breaths after that first sentence, regaining his composure after sharing a clearly troublesome experience. “And…I’ll try not to. I mean, if I didn’t let my brothers or the Angelic Council stop me from believing in humanity and giving Eve that apple, I probably shouldn’t let the Vees dictate what I want to wear and when I want to wear it. Right?” 

“Those two things are vastly different from one another, darling.” The Radio Demon chuckled good naturedly. 

“Hey! I’m trying here.” 

“You are; it’s one of your many redeeming qualities.” The Radio Demon turned to his right and pointed his cane outwards as he shouted: “You there! Fetch the tailor for us. We’ve found the one we want!” 

…ooooh, now Lucian got it. That dress was a model of that specific design. 

Ok, now it made sense as to why The Morningstar was wearing it even if it was too big for him. 

“For the future, sire?” Straightening up, the Radio Demon took a few steps back, presumably returning to the spot he had inhabited before The Morningstar’s worries called him over. Just before he was out of sight, he repeated: “I do mean it when I say I don’t like it when you’re not comfortable in your own skin. If you won’t let me punish the wretches responsible for making you feel that way, at least promise me that you’ll come to me if these feelings arise again? Being alone with such thoughts isn’t healthy.” 

With the Radio Demon no longer blocking The Morningstar, Lucian got a good angle of how soft The Morningstar’s returning smile was as he grabbed at the curtain. As he began pulling it across, he nodded his head. “I will, Al, I will. Thanks for…listening to all of that, I guess.” 

“You shouldn’t thank me for being an attentive partner, darling. In fact, if my Mamman was here, she’d tell you to be prepared to smack some sense into me the day I stopped being worthy of you.” 

For the first time, Lucian wasn’t pulled out of the memory before the interaction he had been watching ended. Now, this could be because The Morningstar’s reaction was regulated to one last nod before he was pulling the curtain completely across the opening that once exposed him. It wasn’t as if the conversation was being prolonged, or anything. 

But, regardless of why he was allowed to view the full memory, Lucian exited the scene feeling strangely at peace. Or, wait…maybe that came out wrong. Maybe the peace he was feeling shouldn’t actually be thought of as ‘ strange ’. As confused as he was when this entire thing started, and as awful as he felt listening to The Morningstar’s concerns, he did technically get some closure this time around since he watched The Morningstar be reassured by his companion. And if The Morningstar was able to find some peace, maybe that was all that mattered here. 

The Radio Demon was a good partner for The Morningstar. 

Even in Hell, this Sinner was a good partner for humanity’s savior. 

And that…that was just…

Wonderful

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“Hey, Al, can I ask something?”

“What is it, Charlie?”

“How did you get the fragments to only show specific memories? Oh! Also, how’d you get those memories timed so perfectly? I’d have thought that since Dad has no control over the magic within each piece, he’d have nothing to protect him from the onslaught of memories that are returned to him with each new fragment he collects. But that doesn’t seem to be the case?” 

“Well, as strange as it sounds, dear, I actually don’t have anything to do with when he sees each memory! And I’m not sure how each fragment behaves when it’s reunited with other fragments. My best assumption is that each fragment recognizes other pieces and just needs enough time to fully integrate itself with the rest. If the gap between those moments happens to give Lucifer enough time to settle things with Sera or get to the Sins before he gets another piece, then all the more convenient for him!” 

“Huh…that’s…that actually sounds pretty lucky. Almost too lucky…”

“Normally, I’d agree with you, but Satan has informed me that he was able to convince Lucifer not to worry too much about the memories. If they happen to pop up even when he hasn’t touched the newest soul fragment, he’ll just assume it’s due to the magic swirling around in the ring pieces he already has. No harm done to him.” 

“Oh! Ok, that’s…that’s more comforting…whew!”

“As for your first question…I should start by saying that as disturbing as it may sound, I think your father knew that he wouldn’t make it out of the war in one piece. Though, I suppose that’s obvious with Miss Eve’s arrival. He wouldn’t disturb her slumber unless it was of utmost importance.” 

“Yeah…she-she…she told me that when he first came to her, that…that she…she begged him to let her help. To let her step in before the worst happened. But…but he wanted to give Heaven a shot. One final chance to prove that they could put some fucking effort into finally achieving some fucking peace, and the only way to do that was to make it look like he was going into it with full intentions of doing the same.”

…

“He…he wanted…he wanted to make me… happy …by taking the first step. He wanted things to go well for my dream…”

“Yes, yes he did, Charlie.” 

“...I wish I’d never pushed for that stupid fucking truce…”

“Charlie, if I don’t blame you; if the Sins don’t blame you; if Miss Eve doesn’t blame you, you can’t blame yourself for Heaven’s actions.” 

“...I’ll believe that when we get Dad back. Now, what was it you were saying about knowing he was going to die?” 

“...we will revisit this later, dear. But…yes…your father had asked if I was willing to bind our souls together on our wedding night.” 

“What?! He…he never…I-I mean…that’s…that’s great! I’m so happy for you guys, but he never-”

“Mentioned it? No, I imagine not. He confessed to me that he was afraid Heaven would take it the wrong way since binding one’s soul to another powerful being makes them both stronger. I imagine he knew they’d assume the worst and use our bond as an excuse to attack earlier.” 

“...fucking figures. Those fucking assholes…”

“Indeed. When I asked why we couldn’t just wait until the truce had been settled, he told me that he just had this…feeling…that we’d both regret it if we waited for an uncertain future. I…I had…assumed…he was worried we’d both become too busy with Heaven and forget about it, so I agreed that establishing the strongest connection possible sooner rather than later would be beneficial. Looking back on it, I think he may have been preparing me for… this .” 

“...yeah, maybe. Does your soul bond give you some sort of control over the other fragments?” 

“More control than I was initially prepared for. We’re bound in every sense of the word. I can see everything his very being has gone through, and I imagine he’d be able to do the same if he were to look at my side of the bond. And…I suppose I’ve just…seen…certain things that I know he’s not ready to face when he’s not whole yet.”

“Learning from the first reincarnations?” 

“Learning from the first reincarnations.”

“I still can’t believe he was carrying that much pain…those poor dears…”

“Yes, indeed. Anyway, after picking which memories seemed best suited for easing him back into his own identity, it was only a matter of blocking the other ones.”

“You make it sound easy.” 

“Oh, my darling daughter…it was anything but. Making it through the first half of his life had me wanting to rip my own head off just to make the pain stop. I’m fortunate that the remaining Archangels are as resilient as they are; they proved to be the perfect distraction before I had to tackle the second half.”

“Serves those assholes right for what they’ve done.” 

“Couldn’t agree more!”

“So, wait…how’d you actually block the memories he wasn’t ready for? If the soul bond lets you see his life, then which part enables you to block out certain parts of it?” 

“Well, first and foremost, I imagine I was only able to manipulate the fragments to the extent that I have because they’re just that: fragments. Individually, they’re not strong enough to reject my tampering.” 

“Oh…yeah, that makes sense when you put it like that.” 

“Secondly, Miss Eve was kind enough to lend me some of her power when certain fragments proved to be more unruly than others.” 

“Ok, ok…still with you…”

“Lastly, I’ve found that being bonded has granted me some of your father’s abilities. If he can block out certain memories using his magical prowess, I possess the same potential. Once I can tap into it, it’s only a matter of learning how to isolate the memories you want to block without losing control of the wall.” 

“...wait…was that what you were doing with Daniel and Ezekiel? And Muriel and Adriel and Tamiel? I was wondering why there were days they seemed to forget their own names! Man…that explains so much…”

“Mhm. I was quite disappointed that they all broke so easily. You’d hope that Seraphim were made of sturdier stuff than that, especially if they were going to talk such a big game during the war. But I suppose since I learned how to better protect Lucifer, I can’t stay too upset. They served their purpose all the same.”

Chapter Text

When Lucian opened his eyes, he was relieved beyond belief to find Sera staring at the red door. With any luck, she’d gotten bored of watching over him not long after he shut his eyes and focused on other parts of the room. 

“If it’s alright with you, I think I’m ready for the third portal now.” He called out to her, swinging his legs around the side of the cot as he spoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her jump slightly before turning around to face him. There was a deep sadness to her gaze that Lucian didn’t want to feel pity for, but somehow felt anyway since…let’s face it…

Anyone who was capable of empathy would probably feel a little uncomfortable being faced with someone who was clearly struggling. Or awkward, depending on the context. 

“Of course.” Sera murmured, slowly floating her way down as Lucian readied himself in front of the third portal. 

Same routine: the booming sound blasted through the air, the portal changed from silver to green, and he was walking through it before Sera had the chance to get to him. 

It was time to face Gluttony. 

The realm he stepped into was one of the most exotic ones’ he’s seen so far. That might not have meant much since he’s only been through two, but he didn’t know how else to describe it! It was such a diverse biome. There were all sorts of plants and rock formations around him; all of which had different colors, shapes, sizes, and he could even smell a variety of aromas in the air when he shut his eyes to give them a break from the barrage of color. 

The Gluttony Ring lived up to its name. There was just pure abundance no matter which direction he looked. 

Even the building he’d landed in front of had a uniqueness to the shapes of its windows and levels.

But what was Lucian doing, standing there? He’d seen what he needed to see, so it was time to meet the Queen. 

Taking a deep breath (which filled his lungs with all manner of different sweet smells, likely from the flora surrounding him), he walked up the steps of the…mansion?...as quickly as he could. When he got close to the door, he was pleased to find that a light tug was all it took to get it open. Once inside, he had to brace himself against the glass surface to contain the surprise that rattled his bones as soon as he saw just who was with him. 

“Y-your Majesty!” Lucian yelped. 

Just a few feet from him, in all of her glory, was Queen Beelzebub. She was much more colorful than humans gave her credit for. Along with her warm yellow mane, she had a blue fringe with some pink and black layered in there. Her tail followed that color pattern, only instead of looking separate as her mane did, all of the colors were swirling around together in her tail. It was like a lava lamp; they moved around so they didn’t mix, but there were moments where they touched and interacted with one another before separating again. 

Similarly, her torso—at least, the parts that Lucian could see since they weren’t covered by the pink crop top she was wearing—wasn’t all just one shade of beige or black. The fur on her arms and legs started out beige, then shifted to a black coating. Then the center of her anatomy broke off into a series of beiges, blues, and pinks. 

Much like the outside of her realm, there was an exotic aesthetic to her appearance. 

She was seated on a gold couch, of which had a twin sitting opposite to her. Between them was a stand, from which a line of rings rose up and just…floated…in the air. They were pretty big; like hula-hoops. Lucian wondered if they were just for decoration, or if there was some practical purpose for them as well. 

When she spotted him, her eyes lit up and she was flying towards him before he could do or say anything else. 

“Hey there!” She stopped just before she could crash into him. “You must be the human Alastor sent. Nice to finally put a face to the name.” 

Clearing his throat, Lucian willed his tongue to work so he didn’t sound like an absolute idiot in front of the Dominion. At least with General Satan, he had somewhat of an excuse for being tongue-tied. Queen Beelzebub hadn’t done anything that warranted being frightened or intimidated yet! 

“It’s…uhhhh….it’s a…a pleasure to be…meeting you as…as well…” He straightened up, forcing himself away from the doors so it didn’t look like he was trying to avoid her. “You have…a…a very…creative Ring, your Majesty. Your subjects must adore it here, with all of the colors and whatnot.” 

“Awww, you’re sweet, honey!” Queen Beelzebub’s arms—yes, all four of them—reached out and snatched Lucian up faster than he could ask her to wait. She then proceeded to spin vertically while holding onto him, laughing all the while. “Seriously though, call me Bee, sugar. Anyone who’s been trusted with such an important task by Alastor and Lu-The Morningstar has more than earned the right to address me by my true name.” 

What?! 

“O-oh…oh, no, I couldn’t.” Lucian chuckled nervously. Queen Beelzebub had stopped spinning at this point, and was now holding him up with a grip under his armpits and around his hips. Anyone looking at them wouldn’t be out of line to say that it must have looked like a mother holding up her toddler, or something similar to that. “You’re a Dominion, it would only be right to address you correctly-”

“Ah ah ah! None of that now.” She shook her head, lips coming to press together tightly for a few seconds. Her brows furrowed and her gaze turned serious. “I’ll let you in on a secret; I don’t actually like it when people address me by my royal title. It feels too formal, and my whole vibe is making people feel free; keeping the party alive, and all that jazz. The title’s reserved for jack asses who’ve rubbed me the wrong way. Or when the situation actually calls for it; which thankfully doesn’t come up a lot these days. We haven’t had to put someone on trial for the last century!” 

Huh…

Well, ok then. 

As strange as Lucian knew it would be to be so informal with someone who was significantly higher in station than any mortal soul would ever be, he supposed when Queen Beelzebub put it like that , he could understand why disobeying her might make her feel more uncomfortable than if he were to continue going his own way. When he really considered her words, it did start to make more sense that Gluttony—maybe Lust as well—were realms where things like ‘ formalness ’ took away from the behavior the presiding Dominions were in charge of managing and cultivating. So, why would they want to encourage it?

It wasn’t like General Satan, where discipline was prized in a military setting. Not to mention that even the most wrathful beings had to practice some discipline when devoting their lives to combat. Completely mindless beasts were more of a danger to themselves than anyone else, were they not? Who’s to say that a complete lack of discipline in one’s actions and awareness wasn’t the same as walking off of the edge of a high cliff and hoping you wouldn’t die?

“O-ok…if…if you s-say so Q-ehem…I-I mean, Bee.” Lucian swallowed audibly. 

That wasn’t so bad, all things considered. It just felt disrespectful. 

He’d get over it with some time. 

“There we are!” Queen Beelzebub’s entire face brightened and then she was flying them back down to the bench she had previously been sitting on. She deposited him on the one that had remained unoccupied, then flew over to her own. As she lowered herself to the bench, she traced a circular pattern into the air. A stream of yellow marked the air she had drawn in, Lucian’s only warning that something was about to happen before the stand and its rings disappeared, abruptly replaced with a decent-sized circular table that poofed into existence before his very eyes. “Now, I think some refreshments are in order before we get down to business. I doubt that Seraphim’s been feeding ya.” 

“IIIII don’t think I’d take any food she offered, if it’s all the same to you.” 

Not because Lucian thought it’d be poisoned, mind you. If Sera still needed him to get the ring pieces, getting him sick would only hinder her progress. But poison wasn’t the only way to tamper with food. Just because Sera probably wouldn’t have an interest in killing him didn’t mean that she wouldn’t sink to doing…other things…to his mind and body. Maybe to make him more compliant, maybe under the guise of making him stronger as he progressed through the Rings, maybe to test what she could do in case she ever found herself facing Roo or The Morningstar and needed to defend herself! 

Lucian didn’t know what reasoning Sera would draw on if she were to mess with him, but he knew there would be something! 

She only cared about her survival, so she would work within the bounds that best guaranteed that. 

“Probably a wise decision.” Queen Beelzebub nodded in approval. With a wave of her hand, more yellow streams danced in front of Lucian, announcing the arrival of her aforementioned refreshments. 

In the same manner as the table, pitchers of drink and plates of food poofed into existence. On sight alone, Lucian could tell that at least one of the four pitchers contained water. The one closest to his right had clear liquid in it, and there were no bubbles or other such details that indicated it would be carbonated. He assumed the one closest to his left was lemonade, based on the slight yellow coloring to it and the hint of citrus when he leaned over to sniff at the top of the pitcher. As for the two pitchers closest to Queen Beelzebub, he didn’t bother trying to identify what they were. They were glowing, so clearly they weren’t beverages that one would find on Earth. And he didn’t know nearly enough about how food in Hell worked to navigate his way through glowing liquid. 

(That being said, the color of the liquid in the pitchers farthest from him was solid yellow-ish gold. It made them look like liquid honey; which he probably would have assumed it to be had it not been glowing.) 

The food was much more obvious in what it was. Chocolate covered pretzels (milk-chocolate, judging by the lighter shade of brown), chocolate truffles (white, dark, and milk chocolate), caramel apples, small slices of cake (Lucian couldn’t tell if it was just plain vanilla, angel food cake, or shortcake), mini pies, cookies, tortilla chips with some dips forming a circle around the main bowl, potato chips, jello packets, sausage rolls, small sandwiches with an array of different fillings, french fries with their own assortment of sauces, and mini tacos. The plates holding each dish were scattered across the table’s surface, yet still arranged in a way that clearly categorized them as sweet or savory. 

“Feel free to dig in, hon.” Queen Beelzebub’s gaze was soft as she leaned against the back of her couch. “And if you don’t like anything here, I’ll be happy to bring something else.”

‘ Not like anything here ’? 

How could Lucian not like at least one thing here when there was so much variety?! 

Plus, he prided himself on not being an ungrateful guest. If his host was going out of her way to offer him a choice, he was going to find something to enjoy. 

“Thank you, Bee.” Lucian picked up one of the small sandwiches and turned it over so he could get a better view of what the filling was. From the yellow, his mind automatically matched it to an egg salad sandwich. But before he could take a bite to test whether he was correct, he realized something: “Could…could I…uhhh…have a plate, please? I-uhhhh…I wouldn’t want to get crumbs all over your furniture, or anything…” 

“Oh, of course, of course!” Queen Beelzebub snapped her fingers this time around to poof a small plate and a matching cup into existence. She positioned the plate so it was right in front of Lucian, its rim teasing the edge of the table until he picked it up. The cup had some more room to work with; closer to the pitcher containing water than the edge of the table. “Anything else?” 

“No, no, this is all perfect! Thank you.” Lucian hastily took a bite so he’d have an excuse not to say anything more (he knew he was getting dangerously close to the point where he’d start digging himself into a hole). There was a freshness to the eggs that he hadn’t expected, but overall, it was a delicious snack. The texture of the egg salad was perfectly soft without becoming a smooth paste, and the bread must have been toasted since it had some firmness to it instead of just melting from the slight moisture of the filling. 

As he ate, Lucian focused his attention on his body. Up until this point, he hasn’t actually felt hungry. Likely because he hasn’t exerted as much energy as someone going on a tranquil walk would, or because transitioning from a living soul to a dead one did something to his body that changed his appetite. Because of that, there was a small part of him that worried he’d get sick if he ate too much. It’s what happened to humans on a regular basis, after all. If they forced themselves to eat more when they were full or just didn’t feel hungry, they ran the risk of making themselves sick by overeating. 

Luckily, his body didn’t seem to react much to the intake of food. Sure, he was happy since he enjoyed the flavor of that egg salad sandwich, but his body didn’t do much else. He didn’t feel full, he didn’t feel sick, nor was he overtaken by a wave of hunger now that his body was replenished after not getting food until now. 

He supposed one more bite couldn’t hurt. If food weren’t going to slow him down and he was able to just enjoy the flavor, then what was the harm?

“You know, I’ve always been impressed by what humans come up with in the culinary world.” 

Lucian looked towards Queen Beelzebub as he picked up another small sandwich. This one looked like it only had cucumbers and some sort of paste. As strange as it sounded, he didn’t select it because he thought he’d like it. He actually thought it’d be pretty boring since the main ingredient was just cucumber. It was his curiosity about what it would actually taste like that guided his hand as he chose it. 

He was pleasantly surprised to find how much he liked the combination of the freshness of the cucumber paired with the creaminess of the paste that had been slathered over the toasted bread. 

“Before God fucked off and Roo came to Earth, you lot have waaaaay more shit to experiment with. And you took advantage of that, let me tell ya.” Queen Beelzebub gained a particularly playful glint in her eye as she teased: “I’ve seen you lot intentionally cultivate peppers spicy enough to destroy your own taste buds just to get a nice kick of flavor. I’ve seen you create primordial soups of random shit just to see what it tastes like. I’ve seen you freeze and bake and burn shit just to find the perfect texture. You humans…you’re pretty fearless in the kitchen, you know that?” 

Lucian wasn’t sure how to answer that. 

His hometown had cookbooks from before God’s departure that listed off various recipes that weren’t repeatable due to a lack of the proper ingredients. So, he knew what Queen Beelzebub was getting at when she talked about the vast menu of dishes humans have cultivated throughout their history. But he, himself, has never gone out of his way to create or enjoy complex foods. He stuck to a relatively simple diet, not only because it was more practical but because he didn’t have the motivation to explore as some chefs did. 

Sooooooo, yeah…

He couldn’t really understand her excitement about food. 

Did he want to be rude though by staying silent or outright denying her her own interest? No! 

“We’re honored by your compliments.” Lucian bowed his head slightly so Queen Beelzebub wouldn’t see the full extent of the embarrassed blush that had heated his cheeks. The full bites he had been taking prior to speaking turned to little nibbles as he worked through his nerves. “I…hope…you and your subjects and the other Dominions have also found enjoyment in our culinary adventures over the ages…?” 

“Oh, Hell yeah!” Queen Beelzebub reached over to grab a chocolate truffle. It was hilariously small between her fingers, and when she popped it in her mouth, Lucian didn’t see her chew it. It may have been so small that she didn’t need to, she could swallow it with no regard as some humans might accidentally swallow globs of their own saliva or a pill. “Obviously, we don’t always get the same Earthy shit you guys use in your cooking, but we make do.”

“I’m sure your ingredients are much more exciting than ours.” Case in point, the plant life outside this mansion. Maybe not all of it was edible, but even then, there were so many different things out there that there was bound to be something better about Hell’s opportunities than what Earth could naturally produce. They were limited to what they could grow under The Morningstar’s blessing, Hell seemed to have magic at its disposal as the landscape provided food for the rest of the realm. 

“Eh, I guess that depends on your definition of ‘ exciting ’.”

“How so?” 

“Well…some Imp farmers like the challenge of plants that fight back. Others? Not so much.” 

Lucian’s throat stung a bit with how hard he swallowed that last nibble. 

Plants that fight back…huh? 

Yeah, humans were lucky they didn’t have to deal with those on top of Roo’s forces. 

“...charming.” 

Queen Beelzebub snorted, but otherwise said nothing else as Lucian finished his sandwich. He debated stopping then and there. He’d had the ‘ one more bite ’ he told himself he could enjoy, and their conversation seemed to fall into a natural end with his last remark. However, when he moved to put his plate down—testing what Queen Beelzebub’s reaction would be—she tilted her head at him. Her previous happiness turned to concern, even a bit of sadness as she looked from the plate to Lucian. 

Ok then, nevermind! Looks like I’m not actually finished yet!

Trying his best to reassure her, Lucian smiled as he yanked his plate back to his lap and loaded it with some sweets this time around. He didn’t get to enjoy chocolate a lot when he was still alive, so he was getting his chance here in the afterlife, right? 

He ended up forcing himself through two more platefulls of food before he genuinely began to worry that he was approaching a point where it would begin to weigh down on him if he continued. Fortunately, this time around, when he put his plate down, Queen Beelzebub seemed satisfied with what he’d gotten down. The concern that had guilted him into eating more was gone, making way for something more content. 

Having pleased her, having made her happy, made Lucian feel…warm. 

Happy with himself. 

“Alright, come on up, sweetpea.” Queen Beelzebub extended one of her hands towards Lucian as she took to the air once more. Hesitantly, he offered his right hand to return her grasp and gasped when he was immediately scooped up in all four of her arms. She held him carefully, no doubt mindful of the food he just consumed, and was much slower than before as she flew them to  the ceiling. 

Or, more accurately, as she flew them towards a large disco ball that hung from the ceiling. 

“The altar…it’s in that?” Lucian didn’t know how much each altar weighed, but if it was made from solid gold, he assumed it would be fairly heavy. Unless the disco ball was spelled so it could take the statue’s weight? 

“Yeah.” Queen Beelzebub shrugged. “This place houses hundreds of parties every week, and it’s not rare to see me dancing on this thing whenever I want to hype up the crowd. Figured that made it the perfect place. Who’d expect the altar to be in this thing?” 

Oh! 

It was like General Satan’s idea, where his cavern could also mislead intruders who were given the impression that the altar would be in the center of each Ring! 

Wait…hold on…what does that even mean at this point? 

Was it a reference to the Dominions? Did ‘ being at the center ’ actually mean being closest to them? 

If that was the case, then maybe that made the most sense. They were the leaders of their respective Rings and the most powerful beings under The Morningstar, that technically made them the heart—‘ the center ’—that could best protect the altar from Sera or Roo. 

Damn…why didn’t Lucian make that connection sooner?

“Alright, in you go, hon.” Queen Beelzebub flew them right up to the disco ball and then relinquished one of her hands so she could run her fingers along its surface. As she did so, a large circle cut itself out of the disco ball, acting as a little doorway to the inside. “I’ll getcha outta there once you touch the piece, k?” 

“Right.” Lucian nodded. Queen Beelzebub positioned him in front of the opening she’d created, and he did his nest not to accidentally kick her as he practically slithered his way inside. It was a strange sensation; being inside something spherical. The ground was tilted no matter where he stood, and its smooth flooring meant that he had no traction to support him. 

He didn’t walk or crawl to the altar once he got inside. He slid there. 

Ok…you know what to expect now.

Using the altar to steady himself, Lucian reached upwards as the orb held in the altar’s hands pulsed beneath his approaching hand. 

Just…let it in. 

He closed his eyes right when his palm was about to make contact with the magic. 

Like General Satan said; just let it in. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“You know…I honestly can’t tell whether I should find it funny or not that all of Luci’s reincarnations are tiny. Like…I mean, I love it. It’s just another one of those things that reminds me of our Lu, and he’s so damn cute every time, but…but I also…kinda…hate it…? Just…look at Earth right now! Even though Eve’s holding back, it’s still a dangerous place. And it’ll probably be a dangerous place until we get Lucifer back in his full glory. How is making the human versions of him so small supposed to give him any advantage in a place like that?” 

“Hey now, it ain’t all that bad. Remember Luci’s fifth run through? The reason he survived as long as he did while on his own is because he was small enough to hide in places Eve’s minions couldn’t get to him.” 

“Wasn’t that also just because they had strict orders not to actually kill him? Just scare him?” 

“...ok, point made. Let me rephrase: the reason he survived the feral humans he ran into was because he could fit into places they couldn’t. Better?” 

“No need to take that tone with me, Ozzie. I’m just saying…some of Luci’s copies have been pretty damn delicate. Almost like God is testing how far he can push it for shits and giggles.”

“Nah. He’s got to know that if he makes it too difficult for Lucifer to survive, all that does is put him in our sights quicker. He’ll prolong having custody of Luci’s soul for as long as he can, Bee. You know he’s petty like that.” 

“...yeah, I guess.” 

…

“I really, really hope this is the last time we have to do this, Oz.” 

“Alastor said it was.” 

“I know, I know. I just…still feel like I need to hope for it to be true.” 

“Well, alright…you know the rest of us are here with you, right?” 

“Yeah. Probably the only reason I haven’t given up entirely.”

Chapter Text

Lucian had to take a few moments to adjust to the assault of bright colors that practically burned his retinas the second he opened his eyes. 

When it felt SAFE to stare for longer than a second at a time, the first thought that came to mind was that there was something familiar about the room The Morningstar was in. 

Familiar enough that Lucian already knew exactly where The Morningstar was standing without having to think too hard about it. 

That Hazbin Hotel place…

This looked like a cleaner version of one of the rooms that belonged in the Hazbin Hotel, from its coloring and its furniture and its overall decor. 

Well, decor that Lucian assumed to be already there—and thereby part of its natural form—before the added holiday decorations came into play. 

A long line of red, green, and white lights had been strung along the higher points of the wall while tinsel was pressed into the crease created where the ceiling met the wall. In the center of the room, two couches had been used to bracket an impressively large but tidy Christmas tree. Of which housed a beautiful collection of ornaments: stars, suns, moons, deer, little humanoid characters, candles, colorful spheres, snowflakes, candy pieces, white doves, pinecones, and presents! They did a fine job in bringing a lot of animation to an otherwise dead tree. 

As one final detail, a cozy-looking blanket had been swaddled around the trunk of the tree. Likely also acting as a carpet that would help catch any of the pines that inevitably fell off while it was acting as the present guardian. 

The Morningstar was flying about, dressed in a backless sweater that looked like it belonged to someone two times his size. There were several wrinkles from where The Morningstar had attempted to fold the sleeves so they didn’t cover his hands, and the bottom border of the sweater fell until it met the middle of his thigh. The front had a picture of two candy canes that had been pushed together to form a heart, and the sleeves had followed that candy cane aesthetic by alternating between red and white stripes. Instead of pants, he wore thigh-high socks to cover the parts of his legs that the sweater didn’t reach. Like the sleeves, they looked to be candy-cane-themed with how they had red and white stripes climbing up from the tip of his feet to the top of his socks. 

To complete the look, a pair of brown reindeer ears had been placed on his head via the use of a seasonally appropriate headband. Personally, Lucian would have thought that The Morningstar would have either shifted so that he had his own ears or looked for a headband that had blonde appendages so they could match his hair. But maybe relying on clothes that a human would wear was part of the fun. 

Lucian couldn’t forget that he seemed to understand the tradition of ugly Christmas sweaters, as evidenced by the second memory he saw. 

The Morningstar carefully avoided the tree as he adjusted a wreath that he had presumably just put on the wall. Lucian didn’t know what he was looking for as he handled it; it looked fine from where he was standing (not to mention his endless confusion on which way was ‘ up ’ when it came to circles). But whatever it was, he found it after more than a handful attempts of turning it this way and that. 

As he settled back down on the floor, two tiny black creatures scurried into the room. Tucked under their arms, a foldable table was held a mere inch or two off the ground as they hurried over to the wall The Morningstar had just finished decoration. 

“Oh, hello!” The Morningstar smiled and made way for the little creatures. Even though he gave them plenty of space, they still took care to remain aware of their surroundings as they swung the table around and unfolded it—mindful so they wouldn’t hit The Morningstar. 

He cooed over them as they worked, much in the same way he once gushed over the Radio Demon’s shadow companion. Lucian couldn’t blame him; as creepy or strange as these black creatures may have looked (to a human) at first glance, there was something adorable about how small they were. And how they gathered around The Morningstar like excited children as soon as the table was properly set up. It was like they were looking for his approval. 

“Thank you; Amor, Archer.” The Morningstar nodded to each individual creature as he thanked them. “Are there any more, or-?” 

Before The Morningstar could finish, at least five more creatures—similar in appearance to Armor and Archer, if only with slightly different heads—made their way into the room to join the current occupants. As The Morningstar’s question hinted at, each group carried its own table. Two had deposited theirs to the left of the doorway they had just entered through, while the remaining three hefted a larger table to the back wall. Getting each one unfolded and properly set up was surprisingly easy for each group, despite the size of the creatures in charge of arranging them. 

Maybe that was just demonic strength at play? 

Lucian wasn’t sure if these were Hellborn demons or mortal souls, so he couldn’t be certain if what he said had any merit. But it would explain a lot if it was the former. Human children weren’t weak by any means, but carrying and stabilizing a table that was easily two-times their height and three-times their length? 

Yeah, they’d need some help at that point. 

Assistance that these black creatures clearly didn’t need. 

“Nevermind!” The Morningstar chirped. At the sound of his voice—maybe, specifically, the approval in his tone—the other black creatures swarmed to him. Much like Armor and Archer, there was visible excitement in the way their eyes crinkled and their smiles widened; in how their little bodies shook with joy and how they released high-pitched squeals as they got closer to the Divine being. “Awww! Aren’t you all little sweetlings!” 

The Morningstar kneeled when all of the little creatures had gotten close enough to touch him. While many of them were content to remain in front of him, soaking up his affection and approval without any fuss, one bold creature had gone around and actually took to using The Morningstar’s wings as a little jungle-gym. He braced himself on each appendage as he climbed, eventually coming to hang off The Morningstar’s right shoulder when he was in danger of falling completely. 

“Ah, ah, ah, careful there, Alex.” There was a light scolding element to The Morningstar’s tone as he reached back and picked ‘ Alex ’ off of his shoulder, but it was hard to take seriously when the look in his eye was so…mischievous. Either he had expected that to happen, or he too found it entertaining that one of the black creatures had done that. “We don’t want you falling off, do we? No, no we don’t…” 

The Morningstar cooed at the creature in his arms, gently scratching under its chin for a few seconds until the other creatures started pawing at him for their own turn. 

“Hey now, hey now; let’s all be patient. We can share-” 

The Morningstar set Alex back on the floor as he tended to the other creatures, giving every one of them an affectionate head pat and some chin scratches of their own as he soothed them. As was the case with Armor and Archer, he addressed each of them by name when it was their turn for some affection: Ash, Arin, Amari, and Artemis. 

Huh…so, all of them have ‘a’ names?

Lucian wondered if there was any significance to that. If they were Hellborn, did they all have the same mother? Or father? Or parents, in general? It would probably explain why they all looked similar, if that was the case. Someone who had that many children could have some fun in the naming process if they told themselves they were gonna stick to one letter. Or maybe it was a family tradition? 

Lucian had a colleague—Mara—who had a family tradition on her mother’s side where every male had a name that began with ‘ g ’ while every female got ‘ m ’. Was it something like that? 

“Alright, alright; let’s take a breather—where’s your papa, little ones?” 

Oh…well, Lucian supposed he could find out in a few moments. 

How convenient. 

“Right here, darling.” The Radio Demon walked into the room, eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the group huddle in front of him. For some reason, he looked a little annoyed, which Lucian didn’t understand immediately. 

Is something wrong?

What could it be? The Morningstar tending to some Hellborn or other mortal souls didn’t seem that bad.

“I’m pretty certain you little hellions were ordered to go to the kitchens to help bring refreshments out after you were done setting up the tables?” 

…hellions?

So…momentarily moving away from the ‘ why ’ behind the Radio Demon’s ire, did that term of address mean that these little creatures were indeed Hellborns, or…?

“Al!” The Morningstar gasped. Lucian wasn’t sure if he was intentionally trying to be dramatic or not, but there was no misunderstanding the offended look in his eye as he opened his arms and pulled the black creatures protectively to his chest. They went willingly, uncaring that they were squished together, and even turned to huddle closer to The Morningstar as he huffed: “Don’t call them that! They’re little sweethearts! Aren’t you, little ones? Yes you are.” 

The Morningstar leaned down to nuzzle his little pile before returning to pouting at his companion. 

“Besides, it’s Christmas! It’s hardly in the Christmas spirit to be insulting people to their faces.” 

He has a point there.

If Lucian were still young and inclined to believe in Santa Clause, he’d be the one saying that the Radio Demon’s attitude would earn him a one-way ticket to Santa’s naughty list. Which could only mean one thing: coal for Christmas! 

(Then he grew up and learned about how it was The Morningstar who offered blessings and the like, and…well…you know how the rest goes.)

“I assure you, it’s all in good fun.” The way the Radio Demon sounded like he was forcing that out from between gritted teeth said quite the opposite. Something The Morningstar picked up on, if the quick shift from a pout to an unimpressed stare was anything to go by. “And to your point, it also isn’t in the Christmas spirit to leave all of the kitchen duties to poor Niffty, now is it?” 

“...you still could have been friendlier.” 

“They’re my minions. They’re supposed to heed my orders, little King.” 

Minions? 

The Radio Demon’s minions?

Whereas that may have answered where the ‘ a ’ names came from (likely a reference to the Radio Demon’s designation of ‘ Alastor ’), that still didn’t answer what species they were. 

Ok…so, did that their method of creation mean they were technically a middle ground between Hellborn and mortal, then? Like, they may not have originated from human souls, but they were created in Hell. They were created by powers of Hell. That must have made them somewhat Hellborn, right? Or did they need their own souls—and not just be an extension of the Radio Demon’s powers—to count as official residents of Hell? 

Oh, for Hell’s sake, why am I even still stuck on this? 

Lucian was moving on, thank you! 

The Morningstar scoffed lightly, though still released the hold he had on his little horde. They, in turn, didn’t leave his side immediately. They remained huddled close until he coaxed them back to their duties. 

He was much more gentle in his approach. 

“Loathe as I am to admit it after that grumpy display, Alastor has a point.” The Morningstar smiled softly. “It wouldn’t be right to leave Nifty to tend to things alone in the kitchens. Off you go; go on now…the sooner everything is set out, the sooner you can get back here. Right?” 

That got them moving. At the promise of The Morningstar’s attention when they returned, the Radio Demon’s minions hurried out of the room—uncaring of the narrowed gaze that followed them until they were completely out of sight. 

“There; they’re following orders again. Happy?” 

“Not entirely.” The Radio Demon turned back to The Morningstar, swiftly walking over to him as the blonde pushed himself back up. He crossed his arms as the Radio Demon came to stand directly in front of him, leaning down slightly so he could look the Morningstar in the eye for their conversation. “I’ll admit, it annoys me that they were so easily distracted from the rather simple task I gave them. You didn’t do that on purpose, did you?” 

“What; like it’s a crime to want to thank someone when they help you?” The Morningstar rolled his eyes. “And it’s not my fault they’re so cute. I don’t understand how you haven’t gotten into the habit of cooing over them whenever they huddle around you.” 

“Well, for one, I’m not as sentimental as you, dear.” The Radio Demon’s tone took on a gentler edge for that one sentence. For the rest, he returned to sounding like he was talking through gritted teeth. “And secondly, they don’t ‘ huddle ’. They hadn’t ever huddled until they saw you fawning over that one-”

“Adrian.”

“-particular minion during our first anniversary.” The Radio Demon sighed. “Ever since then, they’ve taken every opportunity you’ve given them to climb all over you. It’s rather inconvenient when certain other tasks require their attention, hmmm?” 

It was Lucian’s turn to narrow his eyes. While the irritation that the Radio Demon entered with was still heavily present in his tone, there was something else there as well. Maybe it was just because of the specifics of what he actually said, but there was an edge that Lucian hadn’t detected before when he was addressing the little minions. An edge that only came out when The Morningstar had called him out on his grumpiness. 

What was it though?

Was he genuinely annoyed that his minions had gotten distracted? Because if it was something they’d gotten into the habit of doing whenever The Morningstar was involved after that first incident, then maybe Lucian could understand why that might get a little frustrating. If they wanted his attention, it would be more helpful for everyone involved that they complete their task first and then seek out his affection after everything’s been done. 

But…Lucian didn’t know…

That explanation didn’t sit right with him; it wasn’t complete. It didn’t feel complete! 

What else was there?

“Al…” The Morningstar’s gaze was focused—searching—as he tilted his head. “Please don’t tell me you’re… jealous …of your own creations?” 

..wait, what?!

“Of course not!” 

…riiiiiiiight…

If the Radio Demon wanted anyone to believe that, he had spoken a little too quickly for it to work in his favor. He also would take care to properly manage his ears instead of letting them fold back so cutely. And…was that a blush making its way across his cheeks or was Lucian just getting tricked by the red Christmas lights strung along each wall?

“I-I just…don’t like it when my own creations don’t heed my orders first and foremost!” 

Uh huh…

Yeah, that stutter? That was yet another thing that didn’t work in the Radio Demon’s favor. 

“Suuuure, we’ll go with that.” 

The Morningstar chuckled quietly as he reached forward. His hands cupped the Radio Demon’s face gently between them, holding firm when the taller demon tried to pull away, and used his grip to bring them closer. Close enough that their foreheads touched when The Morningstar leaned forward just an inch. 

Contrary to his words, he did, in fact, not ‘ go with that ’.

“Don’t be like that, dear.” The Morningstar whispered, his entire expression melting into something truly adoring as he stared into the Radio Demon’s eyes. Lucian felt like an intruder witnessing this moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. There was something comforting about watching this all play out. 

Too comforting—too close to home—to want to miss out on. 

“I adore you, you know that.” There was no accusation or expectancy in The Morningstar’s tone. He was completely calm as he tried to reassure his companion. “And I would never replace you. Your shadow minions are just cute, is all. It helps that they’re a part of you; feels like…like I…like I get to love all of you.” 

…Lucian could cry. 

Fuck it; he could just cry from how wholesome that was. 

“...I know.” The Radio Demon admitted after minutes of silence. He didn’t fully relax into The Morningstar’s hands, but the annoyance in his gaze and his words had disappeared. Something told Lucian that there may be more going on, more than he understood or that the Radio Demon could feel comfortable saying at this specific point in time, that prevented him from fully accepting The Morningstar’s words at face value. But the fact that he was finding some peace now was all that mattered. “I know…goodness, I know you wouldn’t do that to anyone. I just…I guess I…I never…”

“Never?” The Morningstar nuzzled into the Radio Demon’s forehead, tone encouraging as he urged the other on. 

“I’ve never been good with sharing, and I’ve never tried to be.” The Radio Demon’s eyes shut briefly as he sighed, returning The Morningstar’s nuzzle. “I…especially don’t want to share you. You’ve…argh!…you’ve done something that, up until this point, only my Mamman has been able to do. You’ve…you’ve burrowed your way into my heart, and I just…! I don’t want to share you, even if it’s with other parts of my being.” 

The Morningstar nodded against the Radio Demon’s head, giving him plenty of space to speak on his feelings more if he so wished. The Radio Demon wouldn’t end up taking that offer, even after what felt like at least five minutes had passed between them, but The Morningstar didn’t seem bothered by that. He didn’t press for more answers, and he didn’t press to restart the conversation on his own. 

Maybe that was meant to be its own reassurance in itself? 

Whatever it was, it certainly gave Lucian the opportunity to consider the Radio Demon’s words in a more critical lens. Not to judge him, of course, but just…just to understand things better, he supposed. 

Naturally, because he never had an interest in seeking out a romantic partner, he didn’t fully understand the true depth of the commitment shared between such companions. Everything he knew and felt and respected was more of a surface level category of knowledge. But, hearing the Radio Demon talk? It was almost…comforting…to hear his perspective. There was something grounding about how obvious he was in his protectiveness of his position at The Morningstar’s side and the possessiveness he felt for the Divine being. Maybe part of that was because there was no manipulation at play, and the very nature of an open and honest type of relation was appealing in any case.

But…but…but there was also…

There was an added layer to that, it felt like. Aside from how open communication and expression was good for any close relationship, the Radio Demon’s hold on The Morningstar was…was…

It made Lucian tingle in ways that he didn’t understand, but liked. 

The idea that the Radio Demon was a possessive partner…that he opened his heart for few and cherished the ones who’d fought their way inside…that he guarded The Morningstar so fiercely…that the idea of sharing, even with different parts of himself, was close to unbearable…!

That appealed to something in Lucian. Some part of him appreciated that; craved that! 

It was an intimidating feeling to confront. Especially as someone who didn’t previously express interest in other people like that. 

Why was it happening here? 

More importantly, why was it happening when he was watching two beings who were clearly in a committed and monogamous relationship with one another? It felt creepy and disrespectful to have these types of realizations and feelings while peeping on The Morningstar’s memories! And Lucian knew that, so why was he still feeling like this?! 

He didn’t understand!

He just…he didn’t understand…

Lucian carried the frustration of not understanding as he was pulled to the waking world once more. He just hoped it wasn’t too obvious when he was faced with Queen Beelzebub again, he didn’t want to burden her with his own lack of understanding his own goddamned feelings! 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

Groaning, Lucian immediately pushed himself into what he assumed to be a sitting position when he felt that he was on something. It was quite disorienting for the first few moments, mainly because his eyes took a while to want to open, but at least he remained on…whatever it was…that Queen Beelzebub had placed him down on instead of falling off as he righted himself. 

“Oh, goody!” She clapped loudly. 

Lucian forced his eyes open just in time to see her eyes light up as he faced her. For the first few seconds, she kept her gaze pointed at his face. It could have been an assessment, but then she’d have to be looking for something for that to be true. And as far as Lucian was aware of, none of these fainting spells ever caused any damage or visible leftover-effects that warranted that type of search. 

So, really, what Lucian actually meant to say way: she could be looking for anything and he didn’t know a damn thing about that. 

However, when she seemed to get bored, she redirected her attention towards where his hand was pressed into the edge of the bench he had been placed on. 

“Let’s see!” She leaned forward, two arms reaching out as if to cradle Lucian’s hand. 

He let her have it; she was in the best position to do something if something went wrong with the transfer. 

Reaching his left hand out, Lucian admired the new yellowish-gold stone that sat to the right of General Satan’s circular one. Queen Beelzebub’s addition was more of an oval shape than a perfect circle, and the slight bump that came with the protrusion of the stone made it difficult to rest his fingers normally since his pinkie now bumped against the newest ring piece. But all in all, everything looked as it should. 

“Perfect!” Queen Beelzebub crooned, though the smile that she graced Lucian with disappeared after a second. “Now, for the…less…than exciting bit…”

Ah, yes. 

“Come on, let’s get you back to the portal.” Queen Beelzebub’s entire demeanor shifted to something more somber as she picked him up and flew him out of the building. As one could imagine, being flown out by someone with a Dominion’s speed meant that they were back at the portal less than a second after Queen Beelzebub had talked about it. 

Which also meant that Lucian had little time to brace himself for what was about to happen. 

But that was fine! He totally trusted Queen Beelzebub, just as he trusted the Radio Demon and General Satan. She wouldn’t do anything lethal enough to kill him, just create a convincing picture. If it happened to hurt, he just had to bear with it. 

He was fully prepared to do that with General Satan, why stop here?

“I think I’m just gonna stick with some scratch marks, if that’s ok with you.” Queen Beelzebub placed Lucian down so close to the portal that a stray gust of wind would be enough to accidentally knock him in. He supposed that would be helpful, since falling in might help them sell the idea that he had to make a quick escape this time around. 

Not like with General Satan’s Ring, where he had supposedly distracted his attackers enough that he wasn’t ever in any true danger. 

“Maybe a bite or two, as well…”

“Do whatever it is you need to do, Bee.” Lucian spread his arms outwards as far as they could go, widening his stance as well so Queen Beelzebub had enough room to work with. “I can take it.” 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Oh…fuck. Now I’m actually afraid of what could happen when it’s my turn to send him off. Should I just tell him to come up with an excuse, like Satan did?” 

“I…don’t think you’d get away with that with the same ease he did, Oz. Sera knows enough to know that getting demons in your realm to back off isn’t as easy. Or straightforward. You might have to just…do it.” 

“But I don’t wanna actually burn Lucifer!” 

“And I’m sure Alastor didn’t want to rip into him either. I certainly didn’t want to fucking gnaw on him like a fucking chew toy! But…needs must. We gotta keep Sera from getting suspicions. So hold your nerve for a bit longer, Oz! We’re getting so close!” 

“Burning him isn’t the same as biting him, Bee!”

“He’s right. Lucifer showed up with all sorts of markings when he got back into the habit of actually coming to the meetings. And we all know what a possessive bastard his beau is. Something tells me Alastor got our dear Luci into biting; his first kink in over a millenia!” 

“Mam! Not. Helping!” 

“What?! Don’t say it as if it isn’t true! I’ll bet ya last month’s earnings that the reason his pain tolerance is high even as a human has something to do with his soul fragments remembering the times Alastor took him to bed. A guy like that? No way was he gentle.” 

“First of all, I don’t think Alastor was ever insensitive enough to introduce literal burning to the bedroom when he knows that Lucifer’s wings were initially burned off his back during his descent to Hell. That’s too tasteless, even for a Sinner of his calibre.”

“...oh, yeah…right…”

“Secondly, can we not dive into Lucifer’s sex life when we’re trying to get him back in the first place? It’s like talking about someone who’s still dying, and I’m into a lot of shit, but not necrophilia! Uh uh, haven’t touched that and don’t plan to!” 

“...doesn’t the bottom have to be dead for that to-?” 

“Mam!”

“Ok, ok! Shutting up now.”

“Thank you!” 

…

“Maybe you could just stick with shallow burns? If you shape them correctly, maybe you can make it seem like less powerful demons tried to grab onto him and lost their grip!” 

“...ok Bee, I’ll…I’ll try…”

“Hey, he’s still got my Ring to deal with before he steps into yours. You got time.” 

“...thanks, Mam.”

Chapter Text

“Mr. Magne!” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t so lucky this time.” Lucian’s words came out slightly jumbled due to his current position. 

When he and Queen Beelzebub had agreed that adding some bite marks to the claw marks already littering his upper half would put on a convincing show of a ‘ close call ’, Lucian didn’t think either of them were prepared for how hesitant she would be to commit once she actually got some flesh in her mouth. They had opted to go for his ankle, since he could easily sell the story that he had tried to kick something away from him and it retaliated, or he tried crawling away and something latched onto him during his escape. But every time she closed her mouth around it, fangs only sinking deep enough to sting, she pulled back. 

She didn’t bother hiding how unsettled she was to be taking a chunk out of Lucian’s ankle, and Lucian understood that. She was trying to be sensible since she was dealing with someone who, compared to her, was especially breakable. He got it, really! At the same time, he wished she had just gotten it over with after the third hesitation instead of letting it extend to the 15 minute mark. At that point, all of her nerves seemed to catch up with her, and when she committed to biting down for her thirteenth attempt, she accidentally used too much power. 

Lucian’s ankle went ‘ crunch’ !

Safe to say, after Queen Beelzebub took her own chance to fret over him, he fell through the portal more so than he entered it. It left him as a graceless heap at Sera’s feet; the front of his body and his face practically smushed into the ground once he was all the way inside her limbo. 

“I think my ankle might be broken.” Lucian didn’t dare move it to find out. He had a high pain tolerance, sure, but that didn’t mean he was bold enough to test the body part that recently went ‘ crunch ’! That was stupid, even by his standards. “Sooooooo…I hope those healing powers of yours extend past cuts and bruises.” 

Sera helped him roll onto his back, one hand gently pressing into the underside of Lucian’s calf so he could brace his leg. It helped keep his ankle elevated, and ensured that it wasn’t being jostled too much as he moved around. 

Instead of answering him, she got right to work; the previous warmth that had spread throughout his body the first time she healed him felt like it was edging into ‘ hot ’ territory now. Not in the sense that things actually felt hotter or that he had started sweating as she worked her literal magic, but the presence of the warmth was much more heavy. It just felt like there was more as she tended to his ankle and the rest of his injuries; something that he couldn’t really explain in depth. 

Maybe ‘ hot ’ wasn’t the right word to use. Maybe something that went along better with ‘ pressure ’ would have been better. But even then, that still felt like it didn’t scratch the surface of the sensations crawling over and inside of his skin as Sera’s magic sealed his wounds. 

“Would you like to rest before moving on?” Sera, unsurprisingly, held onto his ankle the longest. Even after his other open wounds had long been closed, she kept pouring magic into that specific part of his body until Lucian was pulling away from her. “You should feel fine, but I’d understand if you want a break after something as…severe…as that, then-”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Lucian pushed himself up as quickly as he dared with a freshly healed ankle, and made a show of rolling it lightly as a way of testing how he felt. Overall, he was a bit stiff, but that probably had more to do with his muscles being affected or his body still recovering from shock than it did the bone itself. 

So long as there was no pain and he could move his foot without hearing anything worrisome—not even some small cracks that people might expect to hear when popping joints—he was going to take that as a sign that he was ready to go!

After what had just happened…

He really needed space from Sera. Like, a lot of space. 

The heaviness of her magic hadn’t felt bad when she was healing him (probably because he was just grateful that his broken fucking ankle was being tended to), but now that he actually had a moment to think about what just happened, his entire being lurched with pure adrenaline. He didn’t know if it was fear, or anger, or just sheer indignance at how enveloped he felt in Sera’s magic. But something was urging him to act; to move on, to get away now that Sera was done so she couldn’t use her magic to do anything else to him. 

It was that instinct again; that gut feeling that letting Sera so close was bad. Just…bad. Lucian didn’t bother fighting whatever it was that kept reinforcing that. 

“I don’t know how much Roo pays attention to her fake realms, but assuming that she’s been watching for activity, she’s probably realized that I’m close to obtaining half of the pieces. And…who knows how she’ll react to that?”  The explanation was flying past Lucian’s lips before he really had a chance to fully construct his lie in his own head. 

Was it good that he could come up with something so convincing while on the fly like this? 

Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t a stranger to using deception as part of a mission, but he didn’t think anything during his time on Earth asked him to come up with something so substantial without at least a minute to think about the inner workings of it all. 

What did it say about him that he was able to lie so quickly and so easily?

Best not think about it too much. It’s not like I actually want Sera on my ass, anyway. 

“It’s better to get the next two done as soon as possible. Then I’ll rest, and brace myself for the last realm.” 

Sera didn’t offer anything in response. No further attempts to cajole Lucian into resting, and no words of encouragement. 

Was that because she just didn’t care to continue putting up a front if her supposed pawn was so eager to get himself killed or because Lucian didn’t care to listen? The answer didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. It was just a question that came to him as the sound of the fourth portal activating reverberated throughout the space. 

He supposed suspicion made one question a lot of things, even topics that had clear-cut or otherwise useless answers. 

For fuck’s sake…let’s just get this over with. 

Lucian stepped through the portal only a second after it had finished lighting up, a hand coming up to cover his nose when he immediately took in the unpleasant aroma of smoke and sewage. If he thought Sera’s magic had put a shocking amount of pressure on his body as she healed him, then he didn’t know how he should make peace with the oppressive presence of smoke visibly clouding up the area. 

King Mammon, the Dominion of Greed, had such a vastly different realm compared to his fellow Dominions. That, in itself, wasn’t surprising. They all had their own missions in life and their own styles. But to go from breathable to slightly less breathable? To go from bright and eye-catching colors to toxic and neon greens? To go from the relatively organized (yet still plentiful) and clean management of Queen Beelzebub’s building and General Satan’s volcano to this…shady city outline? It was a bit of a scramble to get used to for the first few moments. 

The only unconcerning sight was the tent positioned off to Lucian’s right. From the bright lights coming from inside of the open flap, he assumed that’s where he was supposed to go. Either the Dominion himself would be there, ready to guide him to the next piece, or it would just be the altar and Lucian could wait by it as King Mammon did whatever it is he needed to do before meeting with him so they could discuss what story to give to Sera. 

Still covering his nose, Lucian quickly made his way to the tent— Mammon’s Theatre, huh? —and ducked inside. Contrary to what the bright lighting he’d seen past the open flap may have suggested, he was greeted with a looming shadow as someone’s raucous laughter practically shook the entire inside of the tent. It was rough to listen to, not only because it was…less than pleasant…to the ear but also because it was accompanied by a cacophony of other sounds that Lucian couldn’t name off the top of his head. It sounded like there were multiple people? There was a lot of talking, a lot of singing, a lot of laughter, and a lot of strange background noise that could be compared to machinery (for a lack of more explicit comparisons). Like one would expect to hear at an active construction site.

It didn’t take long for the chaotic symphony to create the beginnings of a headache. 

Great, just what he needed! A headache on top of suffocating himself as he tried not to breathe in smoke. 

Just…perfect! 

“Hahahahahaha! Now that’s what I’m talking about. That’s what brings in the big bucks! Now, you could use some more work on your timing—your rhythm was a second too slow for the music you picked out—but some extra practice won’t kill ya. You can rest once the pageant is over, and-hold the phone!” 

Lucian winced as the shadow abruptly moved. It had previously been blocking a good portion of his view into what was going on, but now that it was gone, he could see where all of the noise was coming from. He was correct; there were several other people-excuse him; Hellborn (who were still people, he wasn’t trying to ‘ other ’ them, but he could afford to be more specific when he knew who he was addressing) in the tent with him and whoever had caused the looming shadow. Many of them were doing something or other; be it juggling things, doing something with fire, incorporating knives into tricks, twirling around while hanging off of ribbons that had been attached to the ceiling, doing stuff with hula hoops, dancing, playing instruments, and a couple of Hellborns were just standing in the center of the stage. 

He wasn’t sure what was written on the papers held in their hands, but he assumed them to be scripts. They were on stage, after all, it wouldn’t make sense for them to have things like documents or formal instructions—that felt more like stage management. It would also explain where the singing had been coming from. Or maybe they were doing a skit?

So many possibilities in this jumble of entertainment. 

“Aha! There you are!” 

Lo and behold, King Mammon—in all of his jester glory—landed in front of Lucian before he could even attempt the ‘ hi, I’m new around here ’ wave towards the Hellborns. The only thing the human portrayal got right with him was his jester top. Everything else, and it was once again a miss. He did, in fact, wear pants as opposed to wearing one giant robe that fell to the floor. And those pants were surprisingly bland compared to the rest of his outfit. It looked like shades of purple or lavender alternated in a stripe pattern, lightened to the point where Lucian had to wonder if they were lighter shades on purpose or if the pants themselves were just so worn that it was age and dirt that caused them to be that shade. 

His top consisted of a rather unique jacket. And not just because it accounted for multiple arms! Half of it was dark green while the other was black; and on top of that, there were skeletal designs over his rib cage and along his sleeves. They were very cartoonish in style, and glowed so brightly that Lucian could pick them out even in the brightly-lit tent. 

Hanging around his neck was a green tie, lighter in shade compared to his coat and more closely linked to the undertones of green on his jester hat. In the center, the dollar sign had been printed in black. 

For some reason, despite not being bigger than General Satan, he unsettled Lucian more so than the reptile-like Dominion did. He was inclined to think it was because King Mammon was louder and more in-his-face compared to when General Satan had spoken to him (disregarding their introduction, where the Dominion had every right to be wary of a random mortal soul being in his realm). 

“You work fast; I like that in a man.” King Mammon smirked down at Lucian, looking every bit as proud and assured of himself as humans thought Dominions to be. Again, it was very out-there. Whereas General Satan carried a much calmer authority and Queen Beelzebub invited people to be less formal with her, King Mammon showcased the indulgence he enjoyed as one of the Dominions. 

Which wasn’t necessarily…bad, per say. 

Just…different. 

“Sorry you had to walk into this, we’re rehearsing for an upcoming show. I’m hoping it’s even better than last year’s. No use in getting stale when you have to entertain the masses, eh?” 

“Uhhh, of course.” Lucian felt how crooked his smile was and sincerely hoped the Dominion was too distracted by…other things…to notice it. “I-uhh…I can…you know…get the piece myself and just rest…out of the way…if you need to-uhhh…you know…deal with things here-”

“Nah, you know what Alastor would do to me if I slacked off like that? He’d totes let Satan use me as a pin cushion the next time our legions are working on their marksmanship. Or worse! He’d make me clean up after Ozzie or Bee the next time one of them has a Ring-wide bash. Maybe both, if he’s in a bad mood!” 

Lucian didn’t know what to say to that. While he was certain that none of those punishments would kill King Mammon (surely The Morningstar wouldn’t let his Dominions actually hurt one another even when they were being punished), would saying that out loud be considered too disrespectful? He’d mean it as an assurance, of course, but he could also see how it could be taken the wrong way if it looked like he was invalidating King Mammon’s…uhh… worries . 

Maybe I should just let him do the talking. 

“Or…or! He’d restrict my own access to my own fucking bank account and cut my allowance, even if he knows I need all my shit to get this show on the road! Let me tell ya; that guy can be petty as shit when he wants to be. And he knows no one else will say shit about it since it’s just me he’ll be fucking with. It’s bullshit!” 

King Mammon huffed at that, one of his many arms coming down to press into Lucian’s back as he led them further into the tent. The other occupants were allowed a second or two to stare at them before a dismissive wave from their presiding Dominion urged them all to re-focus on their rehearsal efforts. Although, even after King Mammon had pushed Lucian past the stage, he could swear he felt everyone’s eyes follow him. They burned into him, but not with anything in particular—like interest, or disgust, or envy, or joy. 

It was just attention. Attention that Lucian wasn’t sure he wanted when he knew he’d be unconscious for the foreseeable future. 

Gosh, was he far more thankful that the other Dominions took care to make sure they were alone when he got to the altar now that he had gotten a taste of what attention could look like in Hell. He’d already hated excessive attention while on Earth, which may have sounded ironic given his job description.

They didn’t go very far into the tent before Lucian was faced with the altar. Yet another thing he wouldn’t say out loud—King Mammon didn’t put nearly as much effort into hiding it as General Satan or Queen Beelzebub did. Maybe there was some strategy in that decision; maybe he knew that since he’d be in here anyway, it just made sense to keep the altar close. And that was fine! 

But…well…

Lucian was going to go ahead and assume that this could also just be pure laziness. 

He wasn’t sure why that mattered when he would be getting the piece he needed either way, it just…it bugged him…it irked him in ways that it shouldn’t. This wasn’t his Ring, and he certainly had no place telling one of The Morningstar’s trusted Dominions how he should be protecting his artifact. 

So, why? 

Why was he so bothered by King Mammon and his behavior?

More questions that wouldn’t have answers, to his misfortune. 

“All right, you probably know the drill by now, yeah?” 

Lucian nodded, walking forward with his hand already extended outwards in preparation for touching the orb. 

Hello darkness, my old friend. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Sire, a question, if I may?” 

The Radio Demon and The Morningstar were outside again, in that forestry area that Lucian assumed to be part of the palace. Instead of leaning up against a tree, as they had been doing for the second memory, they sat at a quaint little table. The main stand was fairly thin for what you’d expect for a table that branched out as widely as this one did, but it had one of those designs where it wasn’t just a pole. There were curled supports that held up the table’s surface from different angles blooming from the center, supporting a wider circumference without having to be bulkier.

Its circular top could almost pass as wood if not for the light glaze that Lucian could see shining against the surface. Did they glaze wood, perhaps? Was this actually carved stone? Some sort of decorated marble, maybe? Or porcelain—did they even make table surfaces with porcelain? Did it have a tile top for decoration?

Lucian honestly couldn’t tell, so he moved on to the next thing before his thoughts began circling. 

He could confidently say that the chairs the Radio Demon and The Morningstar sat in were made of wood. They didn’t have that same sheen as the table did, and they looked like they were the right color for a darker wood base. Not to mention that way that the backs were carved; there was just something about the smooth lines and clean cuts that Lucian likened to wooden furniture. 

A stone or marble statue was one thing, but you didn’t just carve stone when making furniture. Right? The chairs had to be wood!

Placed between the Radio Demon and The Morningstar was a tea set. There was nothing exciting about the design: it was a white tea top, two white tea cups, and some white saucers. But Lucian couldn’t deny there was a certain elegance to the rustic aesthetic, and a peacefulness to the domesticity of this scene. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” The Morningstar looked up from the scroll he had been reading. Several rolled up ones lay still at the foot of his chair, all of them no doubt next in line to be read and dealt with once The Morningstar had finished with the one in hand. 

Man, it must be stressful to be the overseer of an entire realm. Even with the Overlords and Dominions now helping him, that pile looked intimidating. And Lucian would bet his right hand that the scrolls he was seeing weren’t even all of the documents The Morningstar needed to look through, only the handful he was willing to deal with in one sitting. 

It reminded him eerily of when he was still in school; loaded to the brim with various textbooks to take notes on and essays to get done before the week’s end. 

The Radio Demon lowered the book he had been reading and tilted his head as he turned to face The Morningstar. “I’ve been quite curious about something for a while now…” 

The way the Radio Demon trailed off made it seem like he was going to continue speaking, so it was confusing when he let himself end his sentence there. A little jarring as well, since he didn’t actually get to the question he was trying to ask before suddenly pausing. Was he nervous? Unlikely, he didn’t look nervous and his tone wasn’t hesitant or reluctant in any way. But if he wasn’t scared, then what could be going on? The Morningstar made no effort to interrupt him or hurry him along though, so one would think that when the Radio Demon was given the space to speak, he would take it. From humanity’s experience with him, he didn’t seem like the type to like to dilly-dally. 

Then again, if these memories came before he was the trusted messenger of The Morningstar, could that mean that he wasn’t always like that? Maybe there was a time where he did enjoy being playful and teasing his friends. It wasn’t unusual for people to have drastic personality changes as they experienced new things, especially if their environments, relationships, and duties also changed drastically. 

“Mhm?” The Morningstar nodded his head after several moments of silence passed. There was still an absence of anything that could indicate he was getting impatient or upset with the Radio Demon for taking this long to speak his mind. Only plain curiosity as he prodded: “Curious about what?”

“...weeeeeellll…” 

Ok, yeah…this wasn’t about being nervous, the Radio Demon was definitely playing around. 

That tone? Lucian has used it himself many times when teasing his parents or his colleagues. Usually, when he was intentionally being a little shit about answering a trivial question. Like whether he was interested in someone or if he had been the designated secret keeper for the next surprise party.

“Your shapeshifting abilities.” The Radio Demon snapped and his book vanished into thin air. He brought both his hands forward and positioned them under his head, using his palms as a stand for his chin to rest on as he fully turned to face The Morningstar. He leaned forward as he spoke: “I don’t think I, or anyone else at the hotel, has seen you utilize such a useful ability outside of battle. Why is that? Surely, there are handfuls of other situations where the ability to manipulate your form would serve you well?” 

The Morningstar didn’t answer immediately. From where Lucian stood—as an outsider looking in—it was easy to believe that he was intentionally taking longer to roll the scroll he had been looking at as a way to buy himself some time before he had to answer. Which was fair. The question the Radio Demon proposed seemed to be a loaded one, as any question that extended beyond a polar question would. 

“W-well…I mean…” The Morningstar finished rolling the scroll, but instead of placing it down with the others, he began fiddling with it. He squeezed and pulled at it lightly, causing it to crinkle and stretch in his hands. If he wasn’t careful, he might accidentally rip it in half. “Did…did you…uhhh…did you have something…specific…in mind?” 

Why did The Morningstar sound so nervous? 

It didn’t sound like the Radio Demon was judging him for his ability. Quite the opposite, he sounded impressed! As he should, of course. 

Was there something about shapeshifting that was uncomfortable? Lucian could see how manipulating your body to literally reshape itself might be unpleasant for a regular soul (who could perform magic, that is) but The Morningstar? Unless Lucian was understanding the Divine being’s abilities incorrectly, shapeshifting sounded relatively tame compared to some of the other things he’s capable of doing—some of the other things the Radio Demon has praised him for. 

What ever could be the matter here?

“Not particularly. As I said, I’m simply curious.” The Radio Demon easily picked up on The Morningstar’s discomfort and adjusted accordingly. His gaze softened significantly, and the grin that was always there lessened until all of its sharper edges were gone. There was something comforting about looking at him now. “It’s an incredible ability, and yet, you restrain yourself. Why?” 

“...well, what else would I use it for? Other than fighting, I mean?” The Morningstar ceased in his abuse of the scroll he was holding, though he still refused to put it down. 

“For one, you would no longer have to suffer through the paparazzi when you’re out and about if you could simply disguise yourself as another common Sinner.” The Radio Demon’s nose scrunched up slightly. “Buying groceries shouldn’t take anyone five hours, that’s a human rights’ violation at that point.” 

Five hours?! 

Jeez, Lucian’s had patrols that took less time than that! And The Morningstar was only going out to get groceries?

“Secondly, you could actually attend Overlord meetings without worrying about whether or not information is being held back as a result of your mere presence. It’d be all too easy for you to be a literal fly on the wall!” 

Again with the implications that Overlords didn’t properly respect The Morningstar as they should be doing as thanks for giving them the opportunity to grow in power. Again with that!

Was this the reason there were only six? The Morningstar could only trust a small handful?

“Third…” The Radio Demon’s scrunched nose wrinkled a little more as he reached forward. The soft look in his gaze remained, somehow, even as his smile re-sharpened. When his claws first brushed against The Morningstar’s knuckles, it was clearly gentle and it calmed the blonde just enough that he was able to let go of the scroll he’d been grasping onto for dear life. 

You wouldn’t be able to tell that from the tone he took when he spoke though, you’d have to see it—see him—to believe that the Radio Demon was still calm. 

His tone was laced with displeasure, his words bordering venomous: “If for nothing else, it’s not healthy to reject your powers like this. We’ve talked about that; embrace them.”

“...that’s difficult to do when THAT specific ability is so intertwined with humanity’s damnation-”

“Lucifer, don’t go there.” The Radio Demon’s gentle brush against The Morningstar’s knuckles stopped, and he was grabbing ahold of the other’s wrist before Lucian could catch up with what was going on. 

The Radio Demon had just used The Morningstar’s name. He had used the Divine being’s actual name! 

If there was any doubt that The Morningstar and the Radio Demon were involved, in any way, it was all gone now. All because of a single name drop. It was so well-ingrained into humanity that you didn’t just name someone carelessly. Especially beings as far up in the hierarchy as The Morningstar. Only trusted souls—those who had been given explicit permission by The Morningstar because of their loyalty and good company—were granted that honor. 

Holy shit…he actually has permission to use The Morningstar’s name!

“To shapeshift means to hide, Alastor. It means to disarm, and deceive.” 

“Is that you talking, or Heaven?” 

“Does it matter? Whether it’s me or them, none of us are necessarily wrong with that assessment. And…and I-I…I don’t…I don’t WANT to rely on deception anymore, if I can help it. With Adam, I was just messing around. But…but I don’t need to do that with anything else. For now, at least.”

“Perhaps, but you and I both know there’s more to the story than the gospel Heaven likes to spout. You didn’t use that form to trick Miss Eve into consuming the apple, she already knew it was you beneath those scales and she knew what you were giving her. The only beings you tricked were the Heavenborn when you snuck into The Garden, and seeing as how it was Miss Eve that would be the most affected by a decision the three of you made, I fail to see why Heaven’s opinion should matter at all.” 

“Clearly, it matters quite a bit if their determination to maintain order succeeded in keeping chaos from spreading on Earth until I gave Eve that apple.” 

“Lucifer, I need you to really listen to me when I say this: whether Heaven likes it or not, giving humanity the choice to decide their own fate WAS the right decision. Even if it didn’t always have the prettiest results.” 

Lucian blinked a few times to reorient himself to the present. Or, well, using ‘ present ’ lightly since this was a memory of something that’s already happened. He was catching up on what was playing in front of him. 

The Radio Demon had moved on, at some point. No longer was he simply reaching across the table to soothe The Morningstar’s distress, he was now using his shadow to bodily carry The Morningstar over the table before depositing the smaller being into the Radio Demon’s lap. As someone who tuned back in as The Morningstar was being dropped, it was a confusing thing to witness. One moment, The Morningstar was in his chair and the next, he was in the Radio Demon’s lap as the shadow remained curled around him. 

If Lucian didn’t know any better, he’d almost think the shadow was trying to trap The Morningstar. But the Radio Demon wouldn’t do that, right? He clearly cared about The Morningstar, and you didn’t hold people you cared about hostage. 

Maybe this was just the shadow’s version of an intense hug. Or its attempt at spooning? It only had arms, so maybe the rest of its shadowy body was making up for the fact that it couldn’t also curl its legs around The Morningstar. 

“We’re more than just animals in a zoo they can leash.” The Radio Demon’s hands came up; one holding onto The Morningstar’s arm as the other cupped the blonde’s cheek. “We have our own thoughts; our own feelings; our own ambitions; our own dreams . And you saw that. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“How can you say that as someone who was damned by my decision?” 

“Because I’ve never been one to delude myself, dear.” The Radio Demon chuckled. It was quiet, but there was a hysterical edge to it that projected itself so solidly that the Radio Demon might as well have just started cackling his heart out instead of restraining himself. “I know the choices that brought me here were my own; none of that ‘ the angel on my shoulder ’ or ‘ the devil on my shoulder ’ nonsense. When I cared for my mother, it was because I loved her; not because some being of virtue and justice told me it was the right thing to do. When I murdered my father, when I lied and stole and maimed and murdered; it wasn’t because The Devil told me to do it. It was because I knew the bastard deserved it, and I was the only one who cared enough about that to do anything with it.” 

Lucian could feel his eyes begin to sting as the Radio Demon spoke, and when he brought a hand up to rub at them lightly, he felt moisture sink into his skin. 

He was crying. 

He was actually crying. 

But…why? 

Sure, his heart hurt at having to watch this. Not only did it feel like a heartwarming moment that wasn’t meant to be shared with outsiders, much less an outsider who could never hope to understand all of the complicated details of The Morningstar’s relationship with Heaven, but just the general principle of hearing about how your hero was treated so poorly by a realm that was supposed to represent everything good and fair in the universe was troubling on its own. 

Other than that? Lucian has had personal experience with helplessness and tragedy and anger and injustice because of his duties as a Sentinel while on Earth. And he’s been unmoved so many times! Why was this hurtful enough to push him to tears? Why was this causing such a hollow feeling to form in his chest? Why was this equivalent to drowning in a sea of his own tears? Why was this so painful to experience?

This wasn’t his life. 

So, why did it hurt as if he could understand what it was like?

“If people can’t embrace that kind of freedom, if they must blame every decision they make—the good and the bad—on outside forces beyond human comprehension because they’re just that ungrateful for the sacrifice you made for them, then I can’t even bring myself to hate them. They’re too pitiful to want to waste energy on.” 

Holy Hell…

How could something that, for all intents and purposes, sounds so hateful be so reassuring at the same time?

“You shouldn’t waste your time or your energy on them either.” The Radio Demon leaned down until he was pressing his forehead to The Morningstar’s. “Embrace your powers; embrace your shapeshifting. It doesn’t have to only be about deception if you don’t want it to be. There must be other things about it you can enjoy?” 

The Morningstar tried to turn away from the Radio Demon, but the taller demon’s hold on his face didn’t let him get far. So, he did the next best thing: he tucked his head down until his chin was surely poking into his collarbone. 

“I-I…I guess…I…I used to…to enjoy…showing Lilith new animals.” The Morningstar sniffled quietly. From Lucian’s perspective, made worse by the fact that his vision was blurry thanks to his own tears, he couldn’t tell if The Morningstar had joined him in crying yet. Maybe he was close, but not quite there. “You…you can probably…guess, but…but she and Adam…they didn’t actually run into many of the different animals that had been created in The Garden. They…they didn’t yet know that…that they…they had to be…gentle…when approaching them. Or they’d be scared off.” 

“Mmmm, I assume you were more than willing to show them what they were missing out on?” 

“Y-yeah…” The Morningstar sniffed again. “M-mainly…mainly Lilith. Adam, he…he didn’t really care a-about…about that kind of stuff. Unless…unless he could eat it, he…he wasn’t really…interested…in the animals that were easily scared away.”

Lilith and Adam?

Lucian wracked his brain trying to remember any details he could about those names. According to the Old Tales, and also from this conversation but mostly from the Old Tales, it was Eve who had actually accepted The Morningstar’s gift of free will by consuming the Fruit of Forbidden Knowledge. And she had widely been regarded as the Mother of Humanity, on accounts of her being one of the first human beings created. 

Alright, alright, it’s coming back to me…it’s coming back to me…

Ok, ok…

Eve had been one of the first humans, and she was named the Mother of Humanity. But she wasn’t THE first human created; those titles went to Adam and Lilith. 

Adam had shown submission to Heaven’s order. He had chosen to follow the path that they set out for him, which mainly consisted of staying in the original Garden of Eden and procreating with his ‘ wife ’. Meanwhile, Lilith had been the one to demonstrate to The Morningstar that humans had the capacity to make their own choices instead of solely relying on God or his Archangels or the Seraphim to dictate their every move. 

Lilith and Eve would eventually be cast out for fighting for humanity’s right to choose their own future, a fate that extended to The Morningstar since he aided them via the apple. Adam would remain submissive to Heaven, a deed that would eventually grant him access to the realm, where he was further corrupted until he was as monstrous as the Heavenborn. 

I remember my history!

“A-and…and I-I guess…I guess I also u-used…used to…to shapeshift for Ch-Charlie when…when she was still in the cradle…” The Morningstar’s musing broke Lucian out of his trip down his own memory lane. He was still sniffling, but there wasn’t a watery quality to his voice or a pitch that would signify any sense of mourning. He sounded calmer. Not happy, just…calmer. “Even when she didn’t know what she was looking at, she liked watching me transform.” 

“Well, there you go!” The Radio Demon cooed, pulling back and moving both of his hands to The Morningstar’s face. He carefully forced his companion to look up, locking gazes once The Morningstar stopped resisting him. “See now? Your powers don’t have to remain tethered to humanity’s damnation. You have a wide range of situations in which they would be useful, some may include deception, but others don’t!”

The Morningstar exhaled loudly in response. Lucian didn’t know if it was meant to be a sigh or his attempt at laughing to try and dispel the heavy atmosphere, but if the Radio Demon didn’t seem bothered by it, then he would force himself not to worry too much over it. As it stood, he was already still trying to figure out why that hollow feeling in his chest forced itself in there. And, more importantly, why it hadn’t left yet. 

This looked like it would have a happy ending. So, shouldn’t any pain he felt—for himself or for The Morningstar—also start to heal? Why would it stay with him?

“Stop letting Heaven tell you how you should feel about your own powers, mon cher.” 

The Radio Demon pressed his lips to The Morningstar’s forehead just in time for the bright light to break through the ‘ screen ’. 

Watching them…It still wasn’t enough to fully rid Lucian of the hollowness in his chest, but it was easier to push through now that he’d seen The Morningstar get support. 

Heaven had hurt him, but they hadn’t broken him. That was enough for Lucian (for now). 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Sooooooo…any of you think he’s gotten a memory of being fucked yet?” 

“What the fuck, Mam?!” 

“What? Don’t pretend like you’re not the tiniest bit curious!”

“I don’t have to pretend anything. I’m genuinely not curious about whether my sorta dead brother is being shown memories of having sex with someone he thinks is way above his station. That’s creepy!” 

“Sin of Lust my ass-”

“Lust has its limits, asshole!” 

“Ladies, ladies, let’s not get our panties in a twist. Oz, don’t let Mammon get to you—you know Alastor wouldn’t show Lucifer that. He’s too sensible to risk freaking him out. And you! Why are you still stuck on them having sex? Like, I get it—Lucifer’s temptation itself and Alastor’s pretty hot for a Sinner—but come on! One of them pretty much has amnesia and the other one would gut you for thinking about his partner like that. And I wouldn’t blame him!”

“Wait, who’s guttin’ Mammon? And when? Ah’ll need ta clear mah schedule; ah’d like ta see that.” 

“Greeeeaaaat. Thanks a ton, Satan. You come in late, and the first thing you do is insult me. Really feeling the brotherly love here, pal.” 

“Hey, the man calls it as he sees it. If Alastor whooped your ass, you’d deserve it. You’re being a creep, dude.” 

“Hey, I didn’t say I wanted to fuck him. I just asked if you think he knows how far he and Alastor got before he…ya know…”

“Before he died the first time? Sheesh, Mam, you’re slow but this is a whole new level of stupid. Even for you.”

“Not you too, Lev! You’re supposed to be on my side!” 

“We are! Sort of-”

“No, we’re not.” 

“Hey! Give him a-”

“Nope!” 

“That’s it! I’m calling Alastor. He can come down and deal with this if we really wanna dwell on it!” 

“Wait! Bee-wait-! Come back! I’ll drop it, I’ll drop it!”

Chapter Text

Lucian, much to his irritation, wasn’t granted the same peace as he was in previous Rings as he roused to consciousness. Before his eyes opened and he was allowed to fully immerse himself back into reality, the echoes of boisterous laughter, singing, music, and all manners of audio clutter flooded his awareness. 

It looked like King Mammon had decided to continue with rehearsals while Lucian was out. 

From a logical standpoint, that was probably the more productive thing to do rather than just sit by Lucian’s unconscious body doing nothing. At the same time…come on! Being practically assaulted with noise wasn’t an ideal ‘ welcome back ’ to the land of consciousness. Especially when the memory he’d just seen was so…upsetting (which was putting it lightly). 

Sighing, Lucian pushed himself off the ground and ventured to the front of the tent. He kept his head down as he walked, and did his best to ignore the feelings of eyes on him when he entered the portion of the tent where he knew other Hellborns would be. 

It helped that King Mammon’s presence probably stopped them from outright approaching Lucian.

“Oh, goody! You made it!” 

Lucian forced his lips to pull into a decent smile as he tilted his head up. Even if he was irritated with all of the noise, he saw no reason to take that out on the Dominion. It probably wouldn’t go well; being useful to The Morningstar’s mission likely didn’t give him a pass if he were to act disrespectfully towards one of the Dominions. 

And, to King Mammon’s credit, he did genuinely look pleased that Lucian had gotten what he came for. Upon seeing that, it was easier for Lucian to convince himself that the Dominion was just trying to be productive while he was unconscious rather than full-on disregarding him as he experienced The Morningstar’s flashback. 

“Yeah.” Lucian redirected his path towards the stands, counting up the rows until he arrived at the line where King Mammon sat. He debated going further into the stands to properly address the Dominion, but ultimately decided that if he wasn’t being called over, it might look strange if he were to go out of his way to poke into the Dominion’s personal space. 

In the other Rings, he was invited closer by the resident Dominion. Partly because they had to be the ones to take him to the ring piece altar, partly because they also had to injure him on his way out. But no matter the reason, Lucian’s point still stood; he had been invited closer, and anything else risked looking entitled on his part. 

“I hope rehearsal’s continue to go well.” Lucian nodded at King Mammon. “Do you want to…you know…outside, or-?” 

“What do you-? Oh! Oh, I know what you mean, I know what you mean.” King Mammon waved a hand at Lucian, expression scrunching up into something that could be concern. “Nah, I don’t think it’s necessary for this one. Ya already look like you’ve seen something…bad. And I don’t wanna push it. Just tell Sera the Ring was in absolute ruin when you came here, and she’ll probably believe ya simply because ya looked disturbed.” 

…huh…

Well, so much for not burdening the Dominion with his thoughts. 

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Lucian ducked his head in a light bow and then turned towards the exit. “Thank you for your assistance.” 

“Ay. Good luck with the rest of the pieces.” 

Lucian was already sprinting out of King Mammon’s tent before he finished his well-wishes. Being in this realm, being immersed in all of that noise, wasn’t helping the flaring irritation-mixed-with-hollowness. He needed to get back to Sera’s limbo, solely so he could get to the next realm as soon as possible. 

He didn’t know if it would really make him feel any better, but maybe it would distract him? At the very least, hopefully it would give him a memory he could focus on instead of the one he’d just sat through. 

As he passed through the portal and returned to Sera’s realm, he was momentarily surprised to not find her standing directly in front of the portal. So far, she’s always been nearby in case he came out injured. And something told him that continuing with the Radio Demon’s cover story didn’t exactly alleviate any paranoia that came with having your pawn come back somewhat broken. The whole point was that they needed her to think he was actually battling Roo’s forces to get to the altar and its ring piece; it would be concerning if she suddenly started thinking that he didn’t need medical attention as soon as he returned to her. 

A quick look around found her kneeling before the altar in the center of her limbo. She wasn’t praying, and she wasn’t looking at it. She was staring at the ground, her back hunched over and her hands placed in her lap. She must be in deep thought. What was she thinking about? Lucian wasn’t certain. 

He almost didn’t want to disturb her, in case she lashed out in response. 

Except, the next portal activating would make a loud noise anyway. So, it wasn’t like he could sneak past her. 

For fuck’s sake…!

Lucian cleared his throat as he stepped further into the room, wincing just slightly when Sera whipped around to face him. The look in her eye…man, the closest thing he could think of that might just describe what he saw could be summarized into one word: feral. And even then, that was putting it kindly. When feral animals looked the way they did, it was because they were scared for their survival. It was because they had been threatened, or they were desperate. The look he got from Sera…

He didn’t know if it was just feeling threatened when it came to the Seraphim. It could very well be, seeing as how she’s made enemies of both Roo and The Morningstar—something that the Radio Demon would make someone extremely desperate. But there was something else there as well. There was…a…a…almost like a…a madness to her gaze, alongside the feral-ness of it. A deep, dark well of hysteria and delirium that fueled her need to see this foolish mission through. 

It was unsettling. Deeply, deeply unsettling. 

Almost enough to make him wish for the previous hollowness he felt after viewing The Morningstar’s last memory. At least that didn’t scare him like the Seraphim did, he just disliked it. As any sane person would probably dislike it. 

“I got the fourth piece.” Lucian held up his left hand, hoping to placate whatever whirlwind of thoughts had currently taken hold of Sera’s mind. Next to Queen Beelzebub’s oval stone, King Mammon’s rectangular one sat vertically upright so as not to take up too much space on the ring’s band. Its shade of green reminded Lucian of Earthly dollars, which surprised him since King Mammon’s own coloring was both much brighter in some places and much darker than others.

Hmmmm…then again, he did have a dollar sign on his tie. Maybe those two things were somehow connected?

I’m just gonna go with that and call it a day. 

Lucian couldn’t let himself get too distracted since he had a possibly unstable Seraphim only a few feet away from him. 

For his own sake, he should probably just get to the next realm as quickly as possible. No need to stay here, debating the logic behind the color of a fake artifact piece! 

“The Ring…it was in ruins when I got there.” Lucian kept his eyes on Sera as he walked to the next portal. Before he arrived in front of it, it was already released that booming sound, signaling its activation. “I didn’t run into any of Roo’s minions during my search, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they got caught in the wreckage.”

Sera hummed, but said nothing else. 

“Right, well…I’ll see you after this one, then.” Lucian put off turning his back to Sera up until the moment he was stepping into the portal. Only when he was sure his entire body had made it through—only when he was absolutely certain Sera couldn’t physically harm him should she actually lash out at him for interrupting her—did he look ahead, preparing himself for what he could encounter in this Ring. 

Now, THIS makes sense.

King Asmodeus’s realm was nothing like King Mammon’s, it looked like a functional city. A city currently experiencing its night cycle, but an active city nonetheless. There was an entire array of brightly-lit business signs, decorative shapes plastered or painted onto buildings, and entire apartment complexes that had room lights cranked up to the maximum. Lucian could see residents being happy to live here; he could see them thriving here. 

He was so distracted by all of the glowing signs and decorations that he very nearly missed the tower he’d been dropped in front of. The only reason he noticed it was because his circling had finished, and he had no choice but to face forward once more. 

A tower, huh? Well, at least I know where to go.

Inhaling deeply, Lucian quickly strode towards the pair of glass doors (which he assumed to be the front doors) and pushed them open when he got close enough. He didn’t get far into…whatever room…he’d walked into. As soon as the door closed behind him, a portal was forming in front of him. 

How is it that these guys have perfect timing?

Sure, Lucian could understand how they might know when he’s in their Ring; General Satan outright told him when he first questioned why a mortal soul was in his realm. But knowing where he was and when he was there immediately upon entering their realm? That was impressive. It was like his soul had been chipped and he was being tracked as he jumped from Ring to Ring. 

Wait…that…that actually has a strong possibility of being true…

Could the Radio Demon have done something to his soul after giving him the ring band, so that the other Dominions could find him before he accidentally got in trouble with the Hellborn? Had the fake ring acted as a tracker in itself? Or was there such a strict rule against mortal souls being in other Rings that the single one the Dominions could detect must automatically be him? 

For Lucian’s comfort, he decided to stick with the first possibility (even if he had no reason for believing it to be the 100% truth.) 

“Well, hello there, little cutie~” 

Lucian swallowed audibly as a large figure stepped through the portal that had just finished materializing in front of him. King Asmodeus could arguably be as colorful as Queen Beelzebub was, he just used a different palette. Whereas she took on the aesthetic of a walking lava lamp, he was a true embodiment of a passionate fire. The blue hair(?) fanning out from his head had pointed tufts on the end that could easily be compared to how one might draw flames in artwork. And there was a distinguishable glow coming out of his eyes and his mouth, as if he had a live blue fire burning within him that was just begging to come out. 

In the case of his clothes, only the stripes on his black vest glowed in the same way. The maroon sleeves stayed plain, as did the black boots, and the little hearts that decorated his sleeves. 

And that voice…for Hell’s sake, that voice…

If Lucian didn’t already know which Dominion he’d be facing and which Ring this was, that voice would be a dead give away. There was something deep, and soothing, and sultry about it that would reel anyone in. Maybe it wouldn’t turn them on, necessarily, but it would lure them close and make them want to keep listening until the warmth and the tingles started. 

It was a startling realization to come to, seeing as how he had entered this realm battling the fear he’d felt from Sera and the discomfort he’d felt from The Morningstar’s previous memory. It felt like he was switching from emotions that were at dramatically opposite ends of the spectrum with little time to truly make peace with each one. Which, in itself, would be enough to give him a headache if he wasn’t caught up in greeting King Asmodeus. 

“Y-Your Majesty…” Lucian bowed his head as the Dominion stood before him, forcing himself to swallow a second time to get rid of the future stutters he’d no doubt face otherwise. “Thank you for allowing me into your realm.”

“No thanks necessary, little youngling. You’re also doing us a pretty big favor by agreeing to go through with this.” 

“So you say.” Lucian lifted his head slowly, just in time to see King Asmodeus crouch down and offer his hand to him. He was smaller than General Satan, so there wasn’t enough flat space on his palm for Lucian to sit on once he found his balance. Instead, he kicked his legs off of the edge of King Asmodeus’s hand and wrapped his right arm around the Dominion’s middle finger as a safety line. 

“I do.” The Dominion nodded, as he walked them towards a proportionately tall elevator, his eyes narrowed and his lips turned downwards in a hard frown. “If you don’t mind me asking, is everything alright? You look…well…sickly, kind of. I believe you humans would say, ‘ you look like you’ve seen a ghost ’.” 

…well, he couldn’t escape King Mammon’s notice, why did he think he could escape King Asmodeus?

Lucian might as well come clean: “I’ve been getting memories whenever I get a new piece. The Morningstar’s memories, to be precise. When I asked General Satan about it, he told me that it could be an aftereffect of being exposed to The Morningstar’s magic whenever I touch one of the vessels protecting Roo’s powers.”

King Asmodeus nodded, not taking his eyes off of Lucian even as he fit them both in the elevator and pressed the highest button available on the little keypad. “Ok, that sounds about right. Do you feel…uncomfortable…watching someone else’s memories?” 

“W-well, yeah, it feels…wrong…but…but I know I can’t really do anything about that, so I…I just push through it. This last one though, I…I-I guess…” Lucian sighed. “I guess it’s easy to hear that The Morningstar didn’t have an easy life, or a simple relationship with Heaven. It’s harder to understand when you actually see the effects their treatment had on him.” 

King Asmodeus’s troubled expression didn’t disappear, it just shifted into something…different. No longer did he only look concerned or only look displeased, he appeared strangely sympathetic as he nodded his understanding to Lucian. 

Or, wait, why did Lucian say ‘ strangely ’? When he really thought about it, a Dominion would probably have a better grasp of The Morningstar’s struggles than a mere mortal did. Of course he’d be sympathetic! He actually understood the depths of what was going on! Hell, he might have even experienced it if he ever had the displeasure of having to deal with Heaven. 

“Would you like to talk about it? Before you view the next memory, I mean?” King Asmodeus brought Lucian closer to his face. 

It didn’t startle him, as Lucian assumed it would. Come on, this was one of the Dominions , for crying out loud! He would think that being so close to one would be a bit unnerving, simply because of their revered reputations as the powerhouses of Hell. But…it wasn’t. It was actually quite reassuring to be this close to King Asmodeus, it felt…safe. Like Lucian was being looked after; guided to a peaceful conclusion, protected from the upsetting memory. 

It wasn’t quite a gut feeling, but it was pretty damn close. 

“I-I don’t…know…if I’d…if I’d have The Morningstar’s permission.” 

“True.” King Asmodeus shrugged. “But…I’ve been by his side for a long time. I’ve seen his good days and his bad. So, if it makes you feel any better, I probably already know what you saw. It’s just a matter of picking out one bad day from the thousands he’s had in his long life.” 

Oh…well, when King Asmodeus put it like that…

“You’re probably right.” Lucian turned slightly so he could more easily face King Asmodeus. If he was going to be talking about something as personal as this when the subject of the memory wasn’t even here, it felt cowardly to hide away from King Asmodeus’s judgement. If he was going to react to anything Lucian said, the human wanted to see it so he knew if he needed to stop. “The Morningstar was with the Radio Demon in the memory. The Radio Demon had asked him about his shapeshifting abilities, and he grew…distressed…about it being brought up.” 

“Distressed as in ‘ angry ’ or distressed as in ‘ sad ’?” 

“Sad.” If he’d gotten angry, maybe it would have been easier to watch the memory the whole way through. At least then, maybe it would seem like he understood he was a victim of Heaven’s cruelty instead of burdening the blame all on his own. “He…he told the Radio Demon that outside of combat, he didn’t like shapeshifting. From what I understood of his reasoning, he equated shapeshifting to cowardice and deception because of Heaven’s narrative of what happened in The Garden of Eden.” 

King Asmodeus sighed, briefly shutting his eyes. “Oooooof course.”

He did say he’d probably know what I was going to say before I told him. 

When King Asmodeus re-opened his eyes, there was a spark of anger in the way they narrowed but it smoothed out into a grim resignation before Lucian could start to feel unsafe. “Did anything else happen?” 

“The Radio Demon tried to tell him that shapeshifting wasn’t just about hiding, or lying. And that rejecting his own powers wasn’t healthy.” Lucian squinted. “But…well; you probably understand this better than I do, I think he’s harbored a lot of guilt after giving Eve the Fruit of Forbidden Knowledge. I won’t say I know why, but based on how their conversation played out, the Radio Demon has implied that Heaven loved to blame The Morningstar whenever anything bad happened. It never occurred to them that humans, themselves, have the same capacity to make bad choices as they do to make good choices.”

“Yeeeeeaaaah, I know exactly what conversation you were dropped into. Poor thing.” King Asmodeus looked away from Lucian at that. “The others and I…we’ve also had that same talk with The Morningstar. Maybe not using the exact same words as the Radio Demon, but…you know…the main point…that…that part…that was the same. Get it?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s…it’s hard…it’s been hard for him to accept that there’s nothing inherently wrong with him, ya know? And…I-I mean…that was probably the point when Heaven cast him out as punishment for going against God.”

Lucian couldn’t stop himself from scoffing at that, even though he knew it was rude to do such a thing to a Dominion. “If God thought that humans deserved nothing more than living as puppets for the Seraphim, then he was wrong. That shouldn’t be The Morningstar’s burden to shoulder.” 

“I know that, youngling. You know that. The other Dominions know that. The Radio Demon knows that. Anyone with sense knows that.” King Asmodeus chuckled, but it was a pained sound more than a humored one. “But when you’ve been in his shoes; when everything you know and once thought was good and righteous suddenly tells you there’s something wrong with you, that there’s something evil within you, and continues to do that for thousands of years, it’s hard not to listen to that. It’s even harder to recover from that.”

“...do you think he’s healed now?” 

“I think he’s faced the repercussions of giving up.” The elevator chimed as the mechanical box came to a stand-still. As the doors opened, King Asmodeus paused and waited until they were out in the (empty) hallway before continuing his thought. “For the longest time, his mind…it wasn’t in a good place. It became…easier…for him to give up, to leave it all behind and wallow. So, he did. But…years came and went, and he was called back by someone he wanted to do right by.” 

Lucian nodded slowly. “So staying down…staying away…it wasn’t an option anymore.” 

He wouldn’t make any judgments since he was almost certain that The Morningstar ‘ giving up ’ had something to do with trauma. And if he wasn’t going to judge Sentinels who’d taken their own lives after living through the worst of horrors in their attempts to protect their homes, their friends, and their families, it felt wrong to judge someone who probably suffered worse for longer. 

But…but…

It…it was just so…so…There was something so deeply scarring to hear that there had been a point in time where The Morningstar wasn’t fighting. Because there was a boat load of implications that arose when the leader of a realm stepped back. Most of which weren’t good, for either The Morningstar’s subjects and his allies. In fact, the first thing that came to mind was that the Ring could have easily destroyed itself from the inside out without a light to guide them. 

There was a reason neglect was something you could be arrested for in the human realm. A very, very good reason. 

And those reasons applied doubly-so when you were the ruler of an entire realm instead of just a parent or a caregiver, of some kind. 

“There were consequences to his absence. Consequences that he needed to face and work through before he could even begin healing from the shit Heaven put on him.” 

King Asmodeus brought them to the end of the hall, where a second elevator awaited them. This time, when they climbed in, there were only two buttons rather than an entire wall of them. One with an arrow pointing up, and one with an arrow pointing down. 

“He’d made peace with what he’s been through before God pulled this latest stunt.” King Asmodeus took his turn to scoff. “Fucking figures. He finally gets back on his feet, finds his grounding and his will to fight, and he’s greeted with a fucking war being brought to his front doorstep.”

“Front doorstep?” One of Lucian’s brows rose as a sudden burst of alarm lodged itself into his chest. “Roo got into Hell?” 

But they’d only experienced her terror while on Earth! Lucian thought that The Morningstar’s power kept her at bay in his own realm. 

“Eh, sorry, sorry! I…uhhh…I think that came out wrong.” King Asmodeus looked scared as he shook his head vigorously at Lucian. “Let me clarify; she didn’t make it into Hell. She isn’t powerful enough to get through The Morningstar. What I meant by ‘ front doorstep ’ was…uhhhh….it was…Earth! Yeah, Earth! We…uhhh…sometimes, we use…Earth…when we talk like that. Since…you know, once souls are actually in Hell, they’re immediately in The Morningstar’s jurisdiction. So, it’s no longer his doorstep, it’s his actual house, get it?” 

As King Asmodeus continued to laugh, albeit nervously, Lucian took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. 

Although that was a rushed explanation, Lucian could see where King Asmodeus was coming from. If they were going to use information from the Old Takes, he supposed Earth could arguably be the front doorstep to either Heaven or Hell, depending on where a soul ended up once they had passed. Because as King Asmodeus said: once judgement had been cast and they actually arrived in their respective realms, they were in the actual realms. It wasn’t a matter of being at anyone’s door anymore, they were in the freaking realms!

Of course Earth was what King Asmodeus was talking about. Of course!

Whew!

Why on Earth would Hell ever be in danger now that The Morningstar had regained his fighting spirit? He was more than capable of protecting his realm! 

What was Lucian worried about?

“That’s good to hear.” Lucian tried to smile at King Asmodeus to show he understood where the miscommunication was. He wasn’t sure how comforting it ended up being, seeing as how the Dominion still looked nervous when they made eye-contact, but at least he wasn’t rushing to explain himself further. 

Lucian might start to feel guilty if he pushed the Dominion like that. 

“Soooo, yeah…Lu-ehem…The Morningstar may have had a shit ton of trauma associated with certain parts of himself or his powers, but he’s mostly made peace with all of it now. It helps that Heaven’s not around to spout their hypocritical bullshit at him.” 

“I can imagine.” Lucian looked towards the elevator doors when the mechanism chimed, announcing their arrival. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be expecting when King Asmodeus started this conversation, but it was nice to feel lighter as he was escorted towards his next ring piece. Obviously, the new insight that The Morningstar had been pushed to the point where he had resigned to giving up was troubling on top of learning about specific cases where his Fall from Heaven still affected him. But it didn’t bring about that same hollow feeling that his latest memory did. 

Now, everything just felt…settled. He felt normal; as normal as he could, in this situation. 

He was inclined to think that it was because King Asmodeus offered him a lot of context about what he had seen. He supposed he could say that he faced the conflict (which wasn’t really his conflict to begin with) and instead of being left to simmer with it, he’d been offered some concrete closure about what happened afterwards. It gave him something else to look forward to; a hope that The Morningstar wasn’t in pain any longer. And if he was still struggling, he had re-found his fighting spirit to push back against the dark thoughts that Heaven once cursed him with. 

It wasn’t much, but he was dealing with trauma here. It was guaranteed that the road to recovery wasn’t simple. So the best thing he could do for himself was take what he was given, and just be happy about that. 

Besides, The Morningstar did win in the end. Even if there was a time he gave up, he came back. He believed when Heaven didn’t. He stayed when Heaven didn’t. He fought when Heaven didn’t. He helped when Heaven didn’t. And now he’ll heal, while Heaven ruminates in its failure. 

Yes… that was indeed a comforting thought. 

When King Asmodeus took them out of the second elevator, there were only so many doors they could pass before he picked a specific one. It was only one door away from reaching the complete opposite end from where the elevator dropped them off, and otherwise had nothing specific about it that marked it as a room of importance. Not that it should, that would be foolish if King Asmodeus had to worry about people breaking in to steal Roo’s powers. Lucian supposed he just noticed that detail as yet another strategy for hiding the ring pieces away. Nothing more. 

As he brought them inside, the first thing Lucian spotted was the enormous cushion that had been placed under the altar. And yes, he did mean under the altar and not around it. There were even heavy dips in the center of the cushion from the weight of the statue. It was accompanied by several pillows lining the outer edges, as well as a couple of blankets that somehow stretched from one side of the cushion to the other. 

As if reading his mind, King Asmodeus clarified: “When Alastor told us about you, he mentioned that you fell unconscious after touching the altar. Now, I don’t know if this is a pattern that’s continued with each new piece you get…”

“It has.” Lucian nodded. 

“Ok then; well, I figured I’d be prepared even if that wasn’t the case. I saw no reason to force you to stay on the floor when you’re doing all of this to help us.” 

Well, that was considerate. 

“To be fair to the others, they did place me on some type of furniture after I fell unconscious.” At least, Lucian assumed so since he usually woke up on a chair or a couch. King Mammon had been the only exception, but was that really worth mentioning? 

“I’m sure they did, I just decided to exercise some forethought.” King Asmodeus playfully winked at him as he lowered his hand to allow Lucian to crawl onto the cushion, and that was that. 

Lucian wasn’t going to complain, especially when the padding was so soft! It was, hands down, one of the best textures he’s ever felt. Goodness, he could see himself falling asleep on this of his own free will, no altars or magic necessary, that was how comfortable this felt against him. 

Maybe I should take the chance to get some actual rest while I’m here. I’m sure Sera isn’t in any rush to get me back. 

And it wasn’t like Lucian wanted to hurry back when the Seraphim didn’t look stable the last time he saw her. Fuck just pushing through this, he was taking a nap while he had the chance!

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Mam, we gotta talk…”

“If it’s about Luci looking like he just saw Charlie get stabbed by an angel when he got to your realm, then don’t bother. I know how bad it was; and that’s why I needed him outta my Ring as quickly as possible.” 

“You couldn’t have at least checked in with him? Asked if he was ok before sending him off?” 

“Oz, this is one of the only times I’m gonna compliment ya without turning it into this whole…thing…ok? So you better listen, and listen well.”

“Hmmm?” 

“You’re good at talking to people, you know that, right? You’re good at listening to them, giving them advice, making them feel…better…and all that shit. I’m not. I’ve never tried to be, and I don’t know how successful I’d be if I did put any effort into it. I’m the one who took to distracting Lucifer when things got to be…too much. But since I obviously couldn’t do that here, I needed to get him to you as quickly as possible so you could do your thing. Got it?” 

…

“What the fuck is with that look?” 

“Nothing! That’s just…surprisingly…sensible of you, is all.” 

“Yeah, well…don’t tell the fucker I said this, but it…shit…fucking fuck, Oz…it broke me when I felt him disconnect from Hell. When he disconnected from…us. At least when he was isolated in his joint, we could still feel he was here. We could get to him! Without him, it’s just been…”

“Fucked up?” 

“...yeah.”

…

“I wasn’t about to put his human self through my shit.”

“And that was the right thing to do.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I already told ya—don’t turn it into this whole…thing, you get me?” 

“Alright, alright, dropping it now.” 

“Thanks.”

Chapter Text

Feathers

Before there were people, before there was a place, there were feathers. 

Feathers were spread across the entirety of the ‘ screen ’ before tucking in, and only then could Lucian see that what he was looking at wasn’t merely a pile of feathers or something made of feathers (like a piece of clothing or a curtain or a rug). But instead, The Morningstar had just opened his wings to the ‘ screen ’ before turning so he was on his side. From there, he wiggled towards a pile of pillows that had been sitting in front of him and pressed his face into one. It left him comfortably resting on his front, and while his wings remained flared out from his back, they were much closer together now instead of spanning out as far as possible. 

The Radio Demon approached from his back end, crawling over The Morningstar until he was sitting on the Fallen Angel’s lower back. They were both only wearing the same pajama pants Lucian recognized from the first memory, leaving their fronts completely bare to the open air. Given how large The Morningstar’s wings were, perhaps that was a wise choice. 

“Darling, we’ve discussed this…” The Radio Demon shook his head as he gazed down at The Morningstar’s wings, an undertone of concern rising with each spoken word. 

As gorgeous of a display as it was to actually see The Morningstar present his plumage, Lucian could see why the Radio Demon was worried. Even from his angle, which admittedly wasn’t the best, he could tell that there was something going on with The Morningstar’s wings. Was it something…wrong? He wasn’t sure, but he was pretty confident that wings were meant to have smoothed-down feathers. And the feathers themselves were meant to point towards one direction, not stick out in various ways. 

“You shouldn’t let it get this bad before saying something. I’m more than happy to assist you.” 

“...I know.” The Morningstar’s voice came out slightly muffled thanks to the pillow he was still pressed into, but the words themselves were clear as day. He let himself stay hidden in the cushioned surface for a few more seconds before turning slightly, squishing his cheek into the pillow case and murmuring: “It’s just…it’s…it’s been… a while …since someone touched them.”

“Even you?” 

“Even me.” The Morningstar’s head bobbed gently as he nodded. “And…and I guess…I guess the…the thought…of letting someone touch them after so long was…it was…”

“Painful? Scary? Overwhelming?” The Radio Demon took one wing in hand, one of the largest ones that was positioned in the highest spot on The Morningstar’s back, and began carding his clawed fingers through it. The effect of his ministrations was immediate; The Morningstar released a full-body shiver and he whined, face turning bright gold when his companion cooed down at him in response. “Oh ho ho ho, or maybe…sensitive, Your Majesty?” 

“M-maybe…” The Morningstar bit his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut, arms curling around the pillow tighter as the Radio Demon continued carefully running his claws through his feathers. Now, Lucian wouldn’t call himself a bird expert, so he wasn’t completely sure if what the Radio Demon was doing was all there was to it when it came to preening. However, what he did know was that birds didn’t just preen each other randomly. Usually, they either preened themselves or it was a couple’s thing. 

Were angels like birds, in that sense? Someone could make an argument either way, but Lucian was inclined to think that grooming—of any kind—was something to be shared between close friends, family, and loved ones. If Lucian were in The Morningstar’s position, he certainly wouldn’t trust just anyone to touch what had to be a sensitive part of his body. One that’s already taken much abuse due to his Fall from Heaven. 

If what he was assuming had any merit, that made what he was watching all the more special. 

“It’s hard to look at them sometimes, too.” The Morningstar’s words came out as whimpers as the Radio Demon worked. “It…hurts…to see them. It’s…it’s like…it’s like they’re…they’re…mocking me for not being an angel anymore. Which I know is ridiculous since wings can’t do that, but…it…it just-argh! I hate that they stayed with me after I was cast out. But…but I…I also… don’t …because then I wouldn’t be able to fly anymore, and…and at least…at least they’re… something from my time as an angel. But…but then…then it just…it just hurts again and…and I can’t-!” 

“Shhhh, my love.” The Radio Demon leaned his head down and pressed a kiss to the very top of the wing’s edge, presumably where bone was. His fingers didn’t stop gliding through the wall of feathers as he spoke to The Morningstar, they remained diligent as they smoothed out unruly feathers and spread essential oils across the rest of the wing (after coaxing it out of its gland to begin with). “I understand what you’re trying to say, my darling, and I don’t want you to think about it any longer if it’s going to cause you such distress. Just…relax for me, hmmm? Stay still for me, and I’ll take care of the rest.” 

The Morningstar turned so he could re-bury his face into the pillow. Just as he did so, his body began to tremble lightly and Lucian could swear he heard muffled sniffles as the Fallen Angel did his best to obey the Radio Demon’s wishes. The taller demon, for his part, did his best to continue soothing The Morningstar. When whispered encouragement failed to calm him, he began humming an unfamiliar tune and allowing the music to encase them both in an audio field of privacy. 

There was something awful about seeing two painful memories back to back. But, shockingly, watching the Radio Demon continue to groom The Morningstar didn’t elicit any ache or hollowness in his chest as the last memory did. Quite the opposite; he wanted to continue watching as the Radio Demon worked The Morningstar through his mixed feelings about his wings. Even if it wasn’t through words any longer, staying and helping him keep his wings tidy while providing emotional comfort simultaneously had to mean something. Right? In the same way that The Morningstar allowing the Radio Demon to touch his wings at all in the first place had to mean something?

They trust each other. 

Lucian felt a warm tranquility wash over him as he rotated that thought around in his head. 

They really do trust each other. 

Of course, such a thing has been hinted at since he started this whole adventure, but this seemed to really seal the deal more so than any other memory he’d seen. And it left Lucian wondering if being partners was truly the extent of the relationship between The Morningstar and the Radio Demon. Maybe it was just him, but he’d think that people who were clearly as committed to each other as the Radio Demon and The Morningstar were would have marriage to look forward to. Not because marriage was the only way to stay committed to each other, not at all. Rather, Lucian was just so used to it being the ultimate symbol of a couple’s commitment towards their union that it felt strange to think of the Radio Demon and The Morningstar’s paths not leading up to such a ceremony. 

Then again, he was a mortal soul. He was thinking about this from a human’s perspective. Maybe there was something deeper than marriage that demons participated in, with their immortal lives and their access to magic. Or maybe the Radio Demon and The Morningstar weren’t at a point in their lives where they wanted marriage?

Whatever it was, Lucian could only wish that they remained happy when they were together. Be it through a union of vows or a private understanding that they belonged to one another. 

“If I could, I’d burn down Heaven for laying a single hand on you, my beloved little angel.” 

Well, speaking of ‘ belonging ’...

There was that possessive display on behalf of the Radio Demon, yet again rising to the surface—completely unrepentant and unhidden from any prying eyes. 

His voice came out as an odd mix of a soothing purr and a deep growl, playing with the mismatch between an indulgent lover and a predator circling its rival. Listening to it…it…it did things …to Lucian. Things that he didn’t fully understand, but couldn’t ignore as the Radio Demon began speaking again. 

(It was like the Radio Demon was trying to engulf him in the flames of King Asmodeus’s passion, flames that didn’t belong to him.)

“Every tear you shed; every cry you uttered; every instance of self-mutilation you endured; they’d all understand the pain you’ve carried all these years, Lucifer.” The Radio Demon had moved on from the first wing he was working on. Instead of going to the second top wing, he traveled downward and took hold of one of the center wings. 

As he began his second round of meticulous grooming, The Morningstar responded to his threat with: “Don’t talk like that, Al. You’ll only wind yourself up, imagining things that’ll never come to pass.” 

He sniffed a few times and rubbed his face deep into his pillow before sinking into the mattress below. There was no more trembling, so Lucian took that as a sign that he had worked through the…difficult emotions…that must have been churning inside of him violently enough to push him to cry. Maybe not enough to feel full happiness, but enough that the sadness or the fear had passed. 

Now, he just sounded tired. Firm, but tired. 

Poor thing must be drained. So little has happened on the outside; everything’s happening in his head. And his heart. 

If Lucian focused too much on The Morningstar’s potential thought process, he could swear he felt his own head flare with pain as everything became too…complicated. Thoughts and feelings intertwined in unsatisfying knots, and without any form of closure or context to drive away the emotional turmoil, it felt like his mind was being torn apart and then forced back together in the worst possible format. 

The best thing to do would be to move on. To trust that The Morningstar had a handle on his own emotions, and if he didn’t, then trust that the Radio Demon knew what to do to help him get through this memory. 

It’s just like King Asmodeus said: The Morningstar DID eventually face the consequences of giving up. He saw what it did, and he pushed through. He got his happy ending! This…this is just…just…him getting there! That’s all this is…that’s all this is…

“Mmmm…I don’t know about never .” The Radio Demon managed to brush out a handful of stray feathers that must have been holding on by a thread, given how easily they detached from the rest of the wing when jostled. It gave him space to smooth down the next incoming plumage, all of which were brighter and healthier-looking than the current layer. “Everything has a weakness, my dear. The Seraphim included. It’s just a matter of finding them-”

“Al, I mean it, don’t finish that line of thought.” The Morningstar turned again so he was on his side. He tried to look back at the Radio Demon, eyes narrowing into a stern glare when he realized that his companion’s focus was all for his wings. There were pink streaks running from the bottom of his eyes to the edge of his jawline and his chin. 

Tear stains, if Lucian’s ever seen them. 

“Picking a fight with Heaven…going at them with brute force…it won’t go well. Trust me, I—of all people—should know.” 

“I’m well aware.” The Radio Demon grinned wickedly down at the wing he was massaging, looking every bit like he was ready to rip it off and eat it as viciously as humans loved to tear into fried chicken wings. He resisted the urge to harm though, clearly mindful that it was someone he cared about in his grasp, not an enemy he could get away with maiming. “Forgive me for upsetting you. I suppose I’m just…enjoying…the fantasy of vengeance too much. Not that it should surprise you, even before we became intimate, you knew I liked settling scores. In my experience, leaving things be hasn’t always ended well.”

“Unfortunately.” The Morningstar groaned. “You’re forgiven. Only because I know your ambition is semi-balanced out by common sense.” 

“Only semi?” The Radio Demon did one last sweep through the wing he was holding and then moved on to the smallest wing down the line. It didn’t look as messy compared to the ones he’s already handled, and it showed in how the Radio Demon’s movements shifted from utmost tenderness to a quickened pace. 

The Morningstar snorted, expression turning to one of amusement. “Most people wouldn’t jump into taunting The Devil during their first meeting.” 

“And they’re fools for doing so.” The Radio Demon tilted his chin up, as if daring The Morningstar to declare him wrong. “Why on Earth should anyone pass on the chance to exchange wits with the being notorious for challenging God? Golden material right there, served up on a silver platter!” 

“...only you would see it that way, you know? Anyone else…they’re too afraid. Or too…hateful.” 

“Once again, another matter in which the problem lies with them.” 

The Morningstar didn’t agree or disagree with that. He hummed, and left the space open should the Radio Demon want to start up a different conversation. 

It was an invitation the taller demon left alone, but not because there was nothing to talk about. There were more words to be had on the Radio Demon’s part, just not the kind that were meant to instigate or respond to any kind of conversational prompt. 

As he finished with the smallest wing on The Morningstar’s right side, he turned to start on the top left wing, beginning a new round of assurances as The Morningstar surrendered to his touch. 

It was a fascinating transition to bare witness to. 

Lucian had thought that The Morningstar had calmed down enough to enjoy the Radio Demon’s attention earlier on. If it was because he was emotionally drained rather than being genuinely happy, then so be it, he was still settled as opposed to crying his poor heart out. Looking at the scene now, The Morningstar’s body language told a whole new story. 

It added a new layer onto his compliance. 

He wasn’t just enduring some sort of restful oblivion as the Radio Demon’s hands continued reorganizing his feathers. He was literally sinking; into the mattress, into his own head, into his own thoughts. He was following what made him feel good, regardless of the trauma he may have associated with his angelic wings or the brief irritation he felt after listening to the Radio Demon’s attempt at threatening Heaven. His wings, even the ones that had already been groomed, gathered around the Radio Demon—as if further seeking his warmth and love as he worked. And his body slowly arched up to accept the demon’s touch, no longer just lying still and forcing himself to accept the Radio Demon’s care. 

The Morningstar was getting help. 

He was allowing himself to be helped out of his dark place. 

And that…That was probably one of the best endings Lucian has seen so far. As the bright light broke through the ‘ screen ’, illuminating both the worn and new feathers of The Morningstar’s wings, Lucian found himself smiling. 

There weren’t any questions. There didn’t need to be. 

He felt like he’d seen all that he needed with this memory. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

Lucian didn’t open his eyes upon registering that he’d returned to consciousness. He wasn’t kidding when he told himself that he was going to try and rest when he had a comfortable bed practically made in preparation for his arrival. What a waste of King Asmodeus’s hospitality that would be! Not to mention that his mind was actually in a relatively peaceful state right now. He had no Seraphims potentially spying on him, no memories that would haunt him, and no gut instincts telling him he wasn’t safe. 

He could afford to remain in King Asmodeus’s care for just a little bit longer. 

Snuggling further into the covers, he made an extra effort to further force his eyes to remain closed by squeezing them shut. His eyelids must have looked like one giant wrinkle by the end of it. 

Go back to sleep. Juuuust go back to sleep…

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“My, my! What a sight I’ve walked into!” 

“What could you possibly want?!” 

“No need to get touchy, my dearly detested. I’ve barely done anything! I sincerely hope sweet Lucian received a warmer welcome upon his return from King Mammon’s realm?”

 “...he…he left before…before we could…speak-”

“Oh, did he now? Well, I suppose I can’t blame him. Your clear ire aside, you are also looking quite pitiful. Doesn’t make for productive conversations, does it?” 

“If you’re only here to criticize me, you might as well leave. It’s a waste of both our time.” 

“Ah, ah, ah, and what makes you think you have any right to tell me how I should be using my time, hmmm? Besides, I’ve always quite liked playing with my food. So, really, I hardly count this as a waste at all!” 

“...is there a grander point to this, Alastor?” 

“Not at all! I’m surprised you’re still asking me such ridiculous questions. We’ve known each other for long enough by now. Surely, you understand that amusement is the only reason I’ve allowed you to continue this little…game…of yours?”

“What, torturing us directly has gotten stale, has it?” 

“Eh, a little bit. Though, perhaps that’s my own fault. I suppose it’s what I get for ensuring that everyday is torture for you.” 

…

“Haven’t we suffered enough, Alastor? It’s been thousands of years since Lu-”

“ DON’T . SAY . HIS . NAME . Neither you nor the rest of your Heavenborn filth deserve to say his name, after what you did!” 

“He was our brother before he ever belonged to Hell!” 

“A brother you cast into the fiery pits, with full intentions of allowing him to suffer! And a brother you killed when all he and his daughter wanted was to nurture peace between our two realms!” 

“Alastor, please, just listen to me! One Sinner redeeming himself didn’t suddenly mean we could allow just any Sinner to ascend!” 

“Of course not, but it’s a good thing that wasn’t dear Charlie’s goal, now was it?! As I recall, she promoted redemption for souls who wanted to put in the effort to better themselves. And even if she was truly naive enough to think that every soul in Hell deserved a chance to pass the Golden Gates, why did it have to come to war? If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times: a civil discussion was always on the table. If Lucifer wasn’t willing to raise his sword to you, you shouldn’t have been either!”

“We didn’t know if we could trust Hell!” 

“And he didn’t think we should trust Heaven either, but he was willing to cast aside his pride and propose a truce in place of brute force, now wasn’t he?!” 

“Well, we…we-argh! Fine! It was wrong of us to deal the first blow, I admit it. But my original point still stands—billions of souls relied on us to keep them safe when Heaven was still standing. How could we claim we were doing that by exposing them to those who’ve committed acts unforgivable enough that they were damned for it?!” 

“The souls left seem to be doing fine from what I’ve seen.”

“That’s because you’ve brainwashed their entire population!” 

“Oh, have I? How so?” 

“By feeding them lies!” 

“Lies? Oh, please, it’s not a lie that Lucifer cared about humans. Neither Miss Eve or I would have enough mercy left in us to spare the species were it not for him. And it’s certainly not a lie that God has abandoned Earth. He hasn’t even been there for Heaven, if dear Emily is to be believed! For Satan’s sake, even Lucifer kept better contact with Charlie when he was isolating himself.” 

“That’s not what I-wait…Emily? She’s…she’s still…she’s still alive…?” 

“Of course? Did I ever say I killed her? I’ve only killed those who no longer have a purpose. It’d be a waste otherwise. You know this already! You think I wanted to keep you or the Archangels alive after you killed Lucifer right in front of me? Right in front of our daughter?!” 

“P-please…Alastor, please, t-tell me…tell me she's safe now…tell me you’ve at least given her mercy after all this time. Please! She had nothing to do with the war, or Luc-His Majesty’s death. She was on Charlie’s side! It’s not her fault that we didn’t listen!” 

“I know it isn’t, but unfortunately for both of you, I still have use for her. So long as she can be used to torture you, my darling wretch, she’ll find no peace in the near future.” 

“...no…no, please-!”

“Oh yes, Sera, yes. It truly is unfortunate when the innocent must suffer the consequences for the actions of the wicked, hmmm? Don’t bother answering. You should use what time you have left to make yourself presentable. We never know when Lucian will walk back in here, and it wouldn’t do you any good to be seen like this. Would it? Ta-ta!”

Chapter Text

“Wake, wakey; eggs and bakey~”

Lucian groaned as awareness steadily made its way back to him. It was a slow process, one not aided by how warm and comfortable he still was—head supported by the cushion beneath him and swaddled in a purple blanket he must have reached out for while he was in the midst of falling asleep since he certainly didn’t reach for it immediately before or after he touched the altar’s orb. As strange as it sounded, he felt like the living version of bread when it was put in a toaster that had been set to medium heat (slow and steady won the race). 

It was only after about five minutes of gentle prodding that he remembered where he was, and who he was with. At which point, pure adrenaline kicked in and he was nearly leaping out of the bed as he sought to apologize for any disrespect he had just shown King Asmodeus by making the Dominion wait on him. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

“M-my…my apologies, Y-Your Majesty-!”

“Hey now, hey…hey-” King Asmodeus was so calm as he reached out and scooped Lucian into his hand. If the human didn’t know any better, he’d think it was practiced with how at ease the Dominion looked as he moved. 

Which…maybe have been true, to some degree. He was quite big; as all of the Dominions Lucian has faced have proven to be. If he ever interacted with his subjects—or, let’s be honest, got tired of having to look down when they did something as simple as address him—Lucian could see King Asmodeus taking the easy route and just bringing the smaller beings up to him. 

“It’s alright, cutie. I’m glad you got some rest. You clearly needed it if you stayed asleep for that long.” There was an overall softness to King Asmodeus’s features that assured Lucian the Dominion truly wasn’t annoyed with his prolonged stay. It didn’t help ease the slight guilt that still coursed through him at the thought of making the Dominion wait for him, but that would probably go away with time. So, he let it be for now. “And…well, if I’m being honest, any time you spend away from Sera is good in my book.” 

At the mention of the Seraphim, King Asmodeus’s features crinkled in obvious distaste. 

“I know she probably won’t hurt you if she needs you, but…ugh. Just the thought of willingly sending you back to her still feels wrong.” King Asmodeus brought Lucian as close to his face as he could get without practically rubbing noses. While the distaste for Sera was still there, Lucian could also pick out specks of concern now that he was so close to the Dominion’s eyes. “You know that if she ever tries to hurt you, you can return to any of the realms and we’d protect you, right? Those portals won’t close once they’ve been opened.”

Huh…

Actually, Lucian didn’t know that. Of course, he knew that the portals didn’t necessarily revert back to their previous silver coloring once they activated, but he thought that was a design choice. It was a way to mark which portals had been activated and explored, if you will. He didn't actually know that the literal door to the realm was still open. 

“Isn’t that a little risky?” He didn’t want to sound ungrateful or like he doubted the power of The Morningstar and his Dominions, but he had to be sure. “I mean-I get that Sera probably couldn’t just waltz into Hell. And she probably wouldn’t, if she has any sense about her. But…but…is leaving the option open to me not also leaving it open to her? She…she could…she could follow me if she realizes I can get back even after I have the fake piece, then she’s in The Morningstar’s realm and-!”

“Easy, easy; take a breath, hun, you’re getting worked up again.” King Asmodeus shushed Lucian gently. “Your concern is touching, youngling. But I promise you, keeping them open is no trouble. In fact, we all insisted that they stay that way for you. Frankly, it was too dangerous to consider taking any routes of escape away when we all know what Sera’s like.” 

Lucian felt his cheeks heat up at the raw concern bleeding out of both King Asmodeus’s gaze and his tone. None of the Dominions had any reason to fret over him. Heck, even the Radio Demon—a fellow mortal soul—would have been in his right if he were to dismiss Lucian’s safety and prioritize keeping Hell’s gateway closed to a tainted Seraphim. He was one mortal soul when thousands have surely earned their spot in The Garden of Eden. And on top of that, he volunteered to help them with this. So, it wasn’t like he could say he was being abandoned when he had an idea of the risks he was taking in continuing this mission. 

By all accounts, they shouldn’t worry about him!

But…they did. They clearly did care if they were willing to expose themselves to Sera just so he had a way out in case things went south. 

How could Heaven ever label them as Sins? They’ve shown they care more about the fate of humans more than the angels did!

“I’ll keep that in mind then, Your Majesty.” Lucian ducked his head in a shallow bow. He didn’t know how to continue the conversation without turning it into a session of berating Sera—which could be fun but unproductive—so he held up his left hand to get a good look at the ring. 

That seemed like the best way to move forward without outright dismissing the Dominion. 

The newest fake piece was probably the most decorative one he’s seen yet. The stone…gem…crystal…magic… thing was carved into a heart. The base was a light pink (not quite pastel, but not bright enough to just be pink) but if Lucian looked closely enough, he could also see swirls of red circling around in the top portions of the heart. It was like the pink coloring was liquid, and an invisible finger was stirring itself inside of it to coax out the red. 

“I know these are meant to be fake pieces of an artifact that holds extremely destructive power, but…” Lucian turned his hand around several times to admire how the fake ring was coming together. “...there is something visually appealing about the whole thing. Everyone has their own shapes and colors…their own aesthetics…” 

“Glad you think so.” King Asmodeus’s gentle smile greeted Lucian when he looked up. It remained on the Dominion’s face as he carefully brought the human away from his face. Lucian didn’t go far though. He could still reach out and touch King Asmodeus’s clothed chest if he leaned off of the edge of the Dominion’s palm and extended his arm. 

For obvious reasons, he didn’t actually do that. 

“Let’s get you back to the portal.” Something in King Asmodeus’s expression dimmed at his own words, but he passed it over with a shake of his head before Lucian could comment on it. Not that he would know what to say—seriously, how did you comfort someone who was about to do what most of the Dominions had to do in preparation for Lucian leaving their realms?—but…ya know…

He’d at least try to put the Dominion at ease, if given the chance. 

The walk back to the portal was surprisingly free of any obvious tension, despite both of them knowing what came next. Lucian didn’t know if that was just im being oblivious since he’s accepted that pain was a necessary evil for this, or if King Asmodeus was just that good at dissipating any negativity when he put his mind to it. Whatever it was, Lucian sunk into it as it helped keep his mind relatively calm when they finally reached the ground floor and were off to the front doors. Watching King Asmodeus have to duck to make it out of his own tower was humorous enough that Lucian couldn’t help giggling quietly as they reached the outside, which in turn seemed to put the Dominion at ease for the time being. 

Not enough that he smiled at Lucian, but at least he didn’t look so… down. 

“If it makes you feel any better, usually Sera heals away most damage before it becomes troublesome.” Lucian held onto King Asmodeus’s pointer finger as he was gently lowered to the ground. When he skipped off of the Dominion’s palm, the larger being looked like he wanted to snatch him right back up before he could get too far, with how he lurched forward back towards Lucian and his fingers re-clenched into a loose fist. 

Goodness…Lucian already felt bad for the Dominions since they had to put up with this, but to see King Asmodeus’s obvious discomfort for this long…

Well, great! Yet another thing to curse Sera for. 

How was it that her schemes managed to hurt the Dominions in this particular manner?! Just…how?! 

“I’ll make it quick.” King Asmodeus shut his eyes tightly, momentarily looking away from Lucian as his body suddenly burst into flames. 

Even when Lucian knew that those flames would be used to cause him harm, he basked in the sheer magnificence of King Asmodeus’s true form. It wasn’t just the brightness or the colors that were eye-catching. Nor were the extra demonic faces plastered in his mane the main element that caught Lucian’s attention. It was the control. This wasn’t necessarily a wildfire, even though King Asmodeus’s flames were reaching outwards and sizzling with obvious wrath. He kept them close and contained, maintaining his original figure and keeping his powers from spreading into the rest of the city. 

“Good luck, hun.” 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

No matter how much it hurt, Lucian refused to feel grateful to Sera. 

Even when she had returned to her attentive facade and was visibly alarmed when she saw the state he was in as he limped back into her limbo, he refused to let himself genuinely thank her as she rushed to tend to his injuries. 

King Asmodeus may have inflicted all of the horrid burns that marred his flesh, but it was Sera’s machinations that put him in the position where he had to do so. 

So, really, this was her fault. And Lucian would do well not to forget that even in the face of her fake sympathy. 

“What happened back there?” Sera helped him limp over to the cot she had initially prepared for the first time he rested in her limbo. Given where some of his injuries were, he didn’t fully sit on the softer, cushioned areas. He pushed against Sera’s careful urging and remained propped up against the edge of the cot to keep himself from pressing against his wounds. 

The cover story King Asmodeus had pitched to Lucian as he burned him was that the re-make of his Ring stuck to the fire aspect of his character. Like how General Satan was allowed his lava, King Asmodeus could harness his Hellfire. Thus, the minions Roo had supposedly left there to guard the altar were beings composed of pure Hellfire. Should they grab onto Lucian, they’d obviously burn him—leaving behind mottled scorch marks that may not have bled, but bruised quite violently. 

King Asmodeus had stuck to Lucian’s arms and legs when picking out which parts of him to burn. And instead of sticking to the large circles or rectangular bruises one might get when punched or kicked, he had gone out of his way to create a smearing-design so it truly looked like Roo’s hypothetical minions had dragged themselves across Lucian’s limbs. It was like when they grabbed hold of him, they couldn’t actually stay on and struggled with all their might before eventually having to release him. 

A good show, a good show indeed. 

But…fuck…did the aftermath hurt like shit!

“This time, the place wasn’t as empty.” Lucian hissed as Sera’s magic spread through him. Normally, that warmth wasn’t so uncomfortable. Heck, he would even dare say it was soothing against his aching body. Since he had just come back from being burned, anything remotely resembling King Asmodeus’s heat (no matter how weak Sera’s power was to his) shocked him. And not in a good way. “Roo left behind a horde of scrappy little things. They were pretty small, so they didn’t do much lasting damage, but boy…there were so many of them!” 

“Oh…” Sera kept her eyes glued to one of the more detailed burns King Asmodeus had gotten away with. He hadn’t wanted to do too many that had individual fingerprints since they took more time to fully shape (which meant more time subjecting Lucian’s body to his Hellfire), but he had agreed with Lucian that only having two on his entire body might not be enough to put on a convincing show. 

They’d settled for seven. Seven decently-sized burns that included individual fingerprints so it genuinely looked like something had grabbed Lucian as he was making his way to the altar, then making his escape. 

Glad it’s over. 

“Since you were wounded, would you like to rest before the next one?” 

“Nope.” Lucian didn’t think he’d be able to lay down for a while. His body would remember the feeling of those burns for who-knows-how-long, and he didn’t want to see what would happen if he tried rolling around in his cot while that was going on. For all he knew, phantom pains could flare up and he risked showing vulnerability to Sera. 

(Plus, there was the added detail that he’d gotten plenty of rest in King Asmodeus’s realm.) 

“After what just happened, I think I have too much adrenaline. I doubt I’d even get an hour in before needing to move again.” 

Sera nodded, looking hesitant but otherwise not pushing any more. It made sense for someone who didn’t actually care about Lucian and only cared about getting The Remnant of Heaven. 

Wait…

Did he make that claim already and this was just redundant? Not that it mattered if he did or didn’t, but the idea that he’s just come full-circle was…was just…wow…

I really need to wrap this up soon. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Seriously?!” Lucian brought both of his hands up to cover his face as he groaned, uncaring of anyone who might be close enough to hear him. 

There was something painful about this. Painful in a humorous way, but painful nevertheless. 

Lucian had left Sera in her limbo after being healed, then stepped into the next portal to come face-to-face with…

Water

Just…a shit ton of water. 

Whatever he was standing on—it could be an actual island, or a man-made structure composed of wood and/or concrete—had formed a hollow circle that trapped a large pool of water in its circumference, separating it from the rest of the…ocean?…that surrounded the platform. There was nothing remarkable about it, there were no buildings or plant life that could indicate that someone or something took up residence here. Just an empty plane of space in (what could very well be) the middle of a watery nowhere. 

What are the chances that the altar is in the center of this pool thing?

Lucian had just been healed of his burns, his body was still tingling from the phantom pains of getting said burns, and the next place he was meant to go involved water? 

Damn…forget what rolling in his cot could do to his nerves. What would completely immersing himself in water do? Would it also ignite some phantom pains? If the water was hot, he could end up boiling himself! Or, on the flip side, if it was cold…would that help? Would that help rebalance the burning sensations still crawling beneath his skin? Or would that just mean he went from one extreme to the other? He’d get no relief if the water was freezing!

For fucks’ sake…!

It appeared a little test was in order here. 

Walking up to the edge, where…whatever he was standing on…met water, Lucian squatted down and hesitantly grazed his fingertips across the surface. Almost immediately, the water crystalized, offering a fraction of a second to pull his hand back before it got stuck beneath the surface. While it looked like the water had frozen over during the crystallization process, it didn’t feel cold when he had first touched it. In fact, in terms of temperature, there wasn’t any noticeable change. It wasn’t hot, and it wasn’t cold. Lucian supposed he could say that it was lukewarm, but that still felt inaccurate.

It just…it felt…it felt…

It was no different than the outside air. The only way he could tell he was even touching water instead of treading through air was the texture of it. 

On one hand, that meant that he probably would have been fine if he had to dive to some underwater facility to even get close to the altar. Those phantom pains from King Asmodeus would still be there, but he wouldn’t be aggravating them as he journeyed on. On the other hand, well…

If this genuinely was a defense mechanism to prevent people just swimming up to the altar, how was he meant to proceed now that he’s activated said defense mechanism? 

“Who dares trespass on these grounds?!” 

Oh, right! 

A defense mechanism probably sent off an alarm to the resident Dominion, just like how General Satan had first been summoned when he detected a mortal soul being in his Ring. 

Nevermind! Maybe it was a good thing Lucian had triggered that trap early on. 

Lucian threw himself back to put some distance between him and the edge he had just kneeled before, only to whip around when he heard a small commotion coming from behind him. As he stood, he came to see a trail of bubbles make its way towards the chunk of ground he was standing on. The ripples they made grew bigger and more aggressive the closer the trail got, all the way up until Queen Leviathan was pulling herself up and out of the water. 

She was one of the Dominions who had a lot of different iterations depending on who was behind the pencil/pen/paint brush. But the one thing that everyone seemed to get right was the fact that she had two heads and some aquatic features. Anything else, and there was just too much variety to get a solid picture of what she actually looked like. 

Well, until now, at least.

Looking at her now, Lucian could finally see the truth. The two heads Queen Leviathan had been marked by weren’t actually identical, as many humans would believe. One had a more humanoid appearance in the way her face was shaped, and how her eyes had a clear structure with the sclera, pupil, and iris. The only thing decidedly not human was her ear, which had a fin-like design to it that likened her more to a fish species. The other head could be compared to an eel with how pointed her snout was, and how she didn’t have a visible ear like her other half. If Lucian were to hazard a guess, maybe she had ear holds hidden somewhere. 

Their color scheme split them right down the middle—the humanoid head had a white and pink (of various shades) aesthetic while the eel head was made up of black and purples. Or, ok, the body specifically was made up of blacks and purples. Oddly enough, the eel’s hair also had some white highlights and glowing green dots littered down her bangs. 

It was truly a fascinating design.

“The Radio Demon sent me, Your Majesty!” Lucian cautiously made his way over to Queen Leviathan and held out his left hand. The eel head glared down at his ring, still clearly suspicious of him, but the humanoid half of her lit up. 

Excitement flooded her gaze and her previous scowl shifted to a large grin, exposing rows of sharp teeth that put the Radio Demon and the Cannibal Queen’s slicers to shame. 

“Eeeee! You made it!” The humanoid head squealed, arms reaching out and snatching Lucian up. She pulled him straight to her chest in a suffocating hug, and he did his best not to accidentally head butt her breasts as she solidified her hold on him. “And look at you…you’re so cute! Alastor didn’t tell us how small you’d be!” 

“He didn’t tell us anything about you, actually.” The eel head huffed. Her voice had a lower pitch compared to her other head, though it was more consistent in how it remained even throughout her entire sentence. When Lucian turned his head to look up at her, he was glad to see that the glare was gone. Now it was more of a blank gaze; not entirely happy with the situation, but not upset either. “Just that we should be expecting a human soul at some point. Would have been nice to get more detail than that .” 

Huh…interesting…

The two halves also had somewhat different personalities in addition to different appearances. The humanoid one was much more expressive and joyful, while the other was considerate and closed-off until she had a better grasp on the situation. They must balance each other out quite well when tending to their duties, assuming one head wasn’t more dominant than the other. 

“Oh, come on, give him a break!” The humanoid head scoffed, bringing Lucian up higher so she could nuzzle into the top of his head with her cheek. Along with having a higher pitch, her voice also cracked occasionally in some places if she let her volume get too high. She appeared to have less control over a more steady flow. “He’s here now, and that’s all that matters. Hey! What did you think of our trap? Pretty clever, right?” 

“Y-yeah, very clever, Your Majesty.” Lucian tilted his head back down so he wasn’t staring at the eel head anymore. Doing so when she was talking was one thing, but it might seem rude if he continued without any obvious reasoning behind it. Now, he did his best to stare straight ahead so he could also avoid looking straight at Queen Leviathan’s breasts. 

That would be significantly more awkward to explain away. 

“You’ve…uhh…really….really covered all your bases with this one. I can’t imagine just anyone getting all the way out here in the first place. And those stupid enough to try would only fall victim to…whatever…you’ve done to the water should they survive the trip.”

“Awwww, thanks sweetie! You know, I was the one to come up with spelling the water so it would trap any trespassers.” The humanoid head laughed lightly. “ She wanted to use a spell that would make the water altar from boiling hot to freezing cold.”

The eel rolled her eyes. “It would keep people out of it. I thought that was the entire point?” 

“Maybe! But it’s so boring!” The humanoid head blew a raspberry as she gently set Lucian down. She held onto him until he regained his balance, then brought a hand up to rest against her hip; which she cocked out as she rolled her eyes at the eel head. “You burn someone or you freeze someone, big deal. Satan or Ozzie could have done the former just as well. But if you trap someone in a crystal? If you keep them there?” 

The humanoid head leaned in close to her eel head counterpart, gaze growing just a bit manic as she hissed her next words. 

“They can’t get away. They’re stuck in their little cocoon until we let them out. If we decide to let them out.” 

Lucian flinched as the humanoid head giggled, head throwing itself back with the force of her laughter. He didn’t know how resilient Hellborn demons were, but humans? There was no way a mortal soul would last very long should Queen Leviathan decide to trap them in her crystalized water. Assuming they didn’t starve, or become dehydrated, they’d suffer gradual but severe cognitive decline should they remain trapped for too long. They’d have no social interaction nor any control over their own body, both things that would weigh heavily on their psyche until they broke down completely. 

And once they broke down…there would be no relief…

Because insanity didn’t suddenly make you strong enough to escape a Dominion. Once you were trapped, there was no hope outside of Queen Leviathan’s mercy. 

It was a much more subtle way to punish any trespassers that were loyal to Sera and her mission, but an effective one if Queen Leviathan was only dealing with human souls. 

Thank The Morningstar I only dipped my fingers in.

“Yeah, yeah, it would suck to be them.” The eel head sighed, seemingly already tired of her counterpart’s endless energy. When her eyes landed back on Lucian, he could swear that the tiniest bit of pity made its way into her gaze when she realized he had flinched away from them. It was hard to tell; what, with how her eyes were literally just… green . 

But…well…

He saw something , something that wasn’t anger or joy. And the other Dominions all showed signs of somewhat caring about his comfort while he was in their realms. So, it wasn’t as if it was terribly strange that maybe—just maybe—the eel side of Queen Leviathan noticed Lucian’s discomfort as he listened to her other half laugh maniacally about possibly torturing other human souls. 

“Now knock it off!” The eel growled quietly, eyes flashing as she looked towards her humanoid head. When it didn’t get the other to stop laughing, the white arm attached to the humanoid head’s side came up and was used to smack the back of her head. 

It was a strange sight to witness, not because there were any weird contortions that needed to happen, but because Lucian didn’t know that each head could control the other half’s limbs. He would have figured they needed to work together to control their entire body, or only one head controlled one half. 

“Hey!” The humanoid half shook her head wildly, then fixed her counterpart with a venomous glare. “The Hell was that for?!” 

“For freaking him out, you moron!” The arm attached to the eel head’s side gestured to Lucian. 

“I-It’s of no consequence, Your Majesty, really. I’m…I’m f-fine-!”  

“Oh, no, she’s right!” The humanoid head lost her glare and reached out to cup his cheek. Her thumb rubbed against the skin there, as if wiping away tears. “I’m sorry for losing it like that, sweetie. I can get carried away sometimes. What can I say? I like it when my traps work! But we’d never trap you under the surface like that, promise.” 

Lucian swallowed audibly, forcing himself not to lean away from Queen Leviathan’s touch. “I believe you, Your Majesty. B-but…I-uhhh…I also understand that this is your realm. You…you have the right to…to deal with…trespassers…in any way you see fit.” 

“Mmmm, yeah, I do.” The humanoid head slowly pulled her hand back, dragging the tips of her fingers across Lucian’s cheek for as long as she could before having to pull away completely. She didn’t go very far; though she had let go of his face, she immediately relocated to his shoulder. She braced her palm against his back, and guided him back to the water’s edge. It was still crystalized, as Queen Leviathan implied it would stay until she reversed the spell. “Luckily for all of us, you’re not a mere trespasser.” 

With that, she kneeled down when they were both dangerously close to falling over the edge and pressed her free hand into the solid surface. Unlike when it crystallized, the effect of her touch wasn’t immediate. Everything remained still for so long that it was only because of the context of the situation that Lucian even had an idea that Queen Leviathan was doing something that involved her spell at all, rather than just assume she was zoning out or checking the sturdiness of the crystallization. 

The reversal process began with a series of white half circles extending past Queen Leviathan’s fingertips. Had the tops been more pointed, they would have looked like arrows shooting forward. 

They started out quite small, then got progressively larger as they left Queen Leviathan’s reach. Lucian didn’t know enough about magic—let alone a Dominion’s magic—to understand what was happening. But if he had to take a guess, it looked like Queen Leviathan was sending her magic outward so it touched all of the affected water. Did that, alone, cancel out the trap infused within it? He wasn’t certain. And he wasn’t going to question it either, because in less than five minutes of starting, Queen Leviathan had returned the pool to its previous watery state. 

Her trap was gone, and it was presumably safe to enter the water again. 

“I’m guessing the altar is at the bottom?” Lucian joined Queen Leviathan in kneeling down, squinting as if it would actually help him see into the murky depths. 

“Yep!” Queen Leviathan rubbed the back of Lucian’s shoulder, then released her hold on him entirely so she could place both of her hands against the water’s surface. This time, when she used her magic to create another white outline of a circle, it was complete. “Check this out!” 

Both heads took a deep breath as Lucian focused on the circle. When it was time to let that air out, they focused the stream towards the center of the circle, like how one would blow into a bubble wand to create a…a uhhh…well…a-a bubble. 

Wait…a bubble!

That description couldn’t have been more accurate to what he was seeing. With each minute that passed, the circle grew until it far surpassed the outline Queen Leviathan had created with her hands. But it wasn’t just the circumference that was being affected; the air that was being blown into the center wasn’t just coming back up or brushing against the water’s surface. A literal pocket was being created before Lucian’s eyes, forced to expand and deepen with each breath Queen Leviathan blew into it. 

Holy shit, it really is a giant bubble! Is this how we’re gonna get down there? That’s…that’s just…wow…! Talk about traveling in style.

“Amazing.” Lucian whispered as Queen Leviathan’s performance came to a close. He didn’t have the attention span to worry whether the bubble would close once she stopped blowing into it, or if it would stay like that for long enough to get to the altar if it truly was all the way at the bottom of this body of water. He was still just…just…

Just shocked that he had just seen that!

He was about to step into an underwater elevator. An underwater elevator. Humanity was eons away from even creating the foundation of a mechanical feat so complicated! 

“Glad you think so.” Queen Leviathan’s humanoid head turned towards him, her smile much more sweet and calm compared to previous expressions she’s made. “Climb on in now. And watch your feet! Take it from someone who’s had the practice; standing or walking around in a sphere can be…difficult…the first time around.”

Riiiiiiiggghhhhtttt…

Because the floor wasn’t entirely flat, right?

“Understood.” Nodding, Lucian crawled forward until he was close enough to the bubble’s opening. Then, using Queen Leviathan’s hand, he guided himself over the edge and then let himself slide down the wall. Maybe it was just because he wasn’t standing when he made his way inside, but the entire thing felt much safer than what first appearances would have him believe. 

Yeah, he didn’t feel completely stable when he did get to his feet, but he wasn’t tripping over himself and face planting everywhere either. 

This was…kinda nice, actually. 

“You good in there, sweetie?” Both of Queen Leviathan’s faces looked concerned as the humanoid one called down to him. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Just to be certain though, Lucian stuck close to the wall. It didn’t offer the best traction, but the fact that it was there still meant he could catch himself if he needed to. Either that, or he’d just slide down the smooth surface peacefully as he had when he first entered the bubble. “Will you be joining me, or…?” 

The eel head nodded. “Of course. You don’t have the ability to drive this thing.” 

Well, yeah, Lucian knew that . He just assumed that it would sink as soon as Queen Leviathan closed it up. 

Then again….hmmmm…actually, scratch that. Everything about this journey would involve magic, and this bubble had just been filled with air recently, so maybe relying on gravity (or would this be the laws of physics?) was a mistake on his part. 

“Alright, I’m coming in. Watch your body-”

Queen Leviathan moved to climb in as she spoke, looking much more graceful as she situated herself compared to how Lucian literally rode the wall during his entrance. At times like this, he actually didn’t mind that he was so small. Because he had nowhere else to go, seeing as how he was pressed as close to the wall as he could get, it would have been difficult to adjust to Queen Leviathan’s size as she joined him in the bubble had he been even of average size.

Here, they still had some space between them. Lucian didn’t have to hug her left just to keep himself inside!

“You ready?” Queen Leviathan’s humanoid head looked down at him as the eel head remained focused upward. She kept watch as she sealed the bubble closed, then pressed her palms against the top to make sure there were no holes or tears by the end. 

“As I’ll ever be.” Lucian nodded. 

At Queen Leviathan’s responding nod, Lucian took that as permission to look away and marveled at what came into view now that he was under the water’s surface. Contrary to what the murky appearance would have him believe, things were surprisingly clear once he was in the actual water. 

During their descent, he got the privilege of seeing all manners of plants and animals. The plants were attached to what looked to be rocky ledges that sprouted from the ground and came to form stepping-stone-like formations after years of existing. Many of them were various shades of green, namely the ones that looked to have stocks or leaves, but some were also black. Those ones looked like mini cacti, or urchins if the spikes were a tad too long relative to the plants’ size. 

The animals were too numerous to keep track of, and many of them didn’t stick to one color palette per animal as the plants did. At the minimum, each fish-like creature that had passed the bubble had at least two colors decorating its body. As for the maximum, one particularly predatory-looking squid had various stripes winding their way up each tentacle. Each stripe had been a different color, amounting to six colors in total! 

“You wanna know something funny?” 

The unexpectedness of Queen Leviathan’s question shocked Lucian enough that a shiver ran down his spine when he first heard her voice. It wasn’t out of fear, or anything remotely negative. Just…surprise. Pure surprise that she had broken the silence when she did. 

“What?” Lucian looked away from the colorful scene to find both of Queen Leviathan’s heads still staring straight forward. When he tried to follow her gaze, he just saw an empty expanse of water. Occasionally, a school of fish or some plant stocks would come into view, but they came and went depending on how much closer the bubble was to getting to the bottom. So, it was probably safe to say that Queen Leviathan hadn’t been actively seeking them out. 

She was staring off into space, it would seem. 

“When Hell was starting to see its first signs of native life, a lot of it was based off of the designs The Morningstar was involved in while he was one of Heaven’s angels. You could even say that some of the Hellborn were…recreations…of life forms he had a hand in designing when Earth was being created.” 

“Ok…?” 

That sounded about right. But what was meant to be funny here?

“So, when you really think about…everytime Heaven shit on Hell? They were technically shitting on stuff they approved of for Earth!” The humanoid head snorted while the eel’s upper lip curled into a vicious sneer. “All of those hissy fits? All of that propaganda against the so-called Devil? All of the disgust towards us? It was bullshit! It was literally because they didn’t have control over what The Morningstar was turning his realm into.”

Huh…That was an interesting way of looking at things. 

“He stole his future from them. He stole humanity’s future, our future, Hell’s future—and he gave it back to us.” The humanoid head turned to glance down at Lucian, a lethal look to her gaze. “It made him…unnatural, to the other Heavenborns. Quite ironic, since most of their future actions would also technically be theirs alone. Not some God-given command they had to carry out to honor His will, or some shit.” 

“...forgive me if I sound rude, but how is any of that funny?” 

“Maybe it’s not.” Queen Leviathan shrugged. “Not to humans, anyway. Us? The ones who’ve been with The Morningstar since he Fell? Well, Heaven’s hypocrisy has always seemed somewhat humorous to us as time went on. If only because of how ridiculous it was.” 

“Annoying too, don’t get us wrong. Not even The Morningstar knows how many times I’ve fantasized about ripping out the tongues of each Seraphim after having to listen to them spout their holier-than-thou rhetoric.” The eel head moved forward so she could stare at Lucian from around her counterpart’s head. “But…I guess humor helps ease the urge. For a while, at least.” 

Lucian didn’t know what he was supposed to say to that. 

To any of that, really. 

Every human currently alive knew of Heaven’s corruption, of its delusions of holiness and facade of righteousness, so he didn’t necessarily disagree with Queen Leviathan’s assessment of the shit they pulled. He was mostly still stuck on how she thought any of that was funny. Dark humor was dark humor, and it could have its time and place. 

But…this?

Even with her explanation, even hearing how she explained that humor was more of a band-aid to cover up the irritation and the need to commit violence, this still didn’t seem funny. 

“I’m sorry to hear that you and the other Dominions had to deal with that for millions of years.” 

That was probably the best thing he could say here. Right? 

He didn’t want to leave Queen Leviathan hanging, but…what else was there?

“Don’t be.” Queen Leviathan turned and cupped his face with both of her hands. 

The size difference between her limbs and his entire body made the arrangement a little uncomfortable—she was, more or less, using the pads of her thumbs and pointer fingers to hold him—but she was careful in the strength behind her grip. Lucian never felt like he was in danger of being crushed or jostled too harshly. 

The eel head started: “It’s not your fault-”

“-and it never was.” The humanoid head finished. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Alright, that’s it, I’m putting my foot down: you, bed, now!” 

“I can’t! What if I miss something important?!” 

“Hun, have you ever needed to do anything while your dad was making his run? Alastor and your aunts and uncles watch over him with the eyes of a hawk! A family of hawks! Nothing will happen to him with that many eyes on him.”

“But…but-!” 

“But nothing. You need rest! And if he were here right now, he’d be backing me on this. Hell, he probably would have just thrown you over his shoulder and made a break for your room by now!”

“...yeah, he probably would have.” 

…

“It never got easier, you know? Even when Alastor figured out a way to get him back, missing him…wanting him here…wishing I hadn’t fucked up so badly in the first place…it never got easier to deal with. It only got worse.” 

“Charlie, that’s what happens when you love someone. Grieving them…it’s a whole thing. And…and with you…and him…he was taken from you in the worst way imaginable. You’re allowed to be upset about that. But he’s coming back to us—he’s coming back to you! We just…we just need to be patient until then, alright? Alastor knows what he’s doing.”

“...never thought I’d hear the day you put your faith in him. Does this mean you finally trust him?” 

“Maybe not as much as you or your dad does. But…I…I guess-no, I do believe he loves Lucifer, just as he loves you. And he fights for those he loves. We just have to hold out a little longer and it’ll all pay off.”

“What would I do without you, Vaggie?”

“Leeeet’s not think about that. Now, don’t think you can distract me. Bed; now!”

Chapter Text

“Sooooo…how should I…uhhh…?” Lucian moved so he was at the designated ‘ front ’ of the bubble and pressed his palm against the surface. The altar was an inch or so away from him, so close he didn’t even need to fully extend his arm in order to touch the orb cradled between its palm. “Does the bubble need to open a bit or…?” 

Both of Queen Leviathan’s heads shook, but it was the humanoid one that cooed at him: “Time for another trick, sweetie.” 

Extending her right arm, she commanded the bubble forward and just when Lucian feared that contact with the altar would cause it to pop (or, more likely, the altar could become damaged if it was braced directly against Queen Leviathan’s magic), a low sizzling sound echoed throughout the space. He backed up when that sizzling sound proved to be caused by the bubble…uhhh…opening?...and allowing the front of the altar past its protective surface. The parts of the bubble actually touching the altar didn’t change in appearance, it was just the sizzling sound that gave any indication that something was happening with Queen Leviathan’s magic as she manipulated their barrier. 

“Go on.” The humanoid head nodded towards the altar. “We’ll take you back up while you’re under, ok?” 

Lucian didn’t look back as he nodded, only sucked in a deep breath and prepared for darkness as he reached forward towards the altar’s orb. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

The scene that greeted Lucian would have been enough to bring him to his knees if he weren’t already sitting down when he ‘ woke up ’. 

Per usual, taking center stage were the Radio Demon and The Morningstar. The taller demon was bent at the waist and offered a single flower to the blonde. What that flower was, Lucian couldn’t name off the top of his head. It had a purplish hue, maybe even bordering magenta with its highlights of pink shading here and there. And the actual bloom had a unique shape to it, you could see the petals as clearly as one would see rose petals or sunflower petals, but their pattern was unlike any Earth flower Lucian has seen before. 

It must have some nice symbolism to match its unique appearance. 

Other than that, another thing Lucian took note of was that unlike in most previous memories, both demons were dressed to the nines instead of settling for something more casual and homey. 

Hanging over the Radio Demon’s shoulders was a cloak-cape-thing that only fell down to his waistline and was secured in place with a thin gold chain around the collarbone. Beneath it, Lucian could pick out a red dress shirt that had slightly-puffed sleeves but otherwise looked rather form-fitting from the shoulders down. Of course, that could be due to the black vest that had been layered on top of it more than the style of the shirt. Its base coloring was black, with gold patterns specifically gathered around the bottom. They could have been embroidered into the material for all Lucian knew. 

It took a few seconds for him to put a name to what pattern he was seeing when he focused on the gold, but the best way to describe it was: a crown made of antlers. Even without having to look at the Radio Demon’s back, Lucian took a wild guess and assumed that the interlocked-antler circle that had started on one side and ended on the other was an embroidered pattern that went all the way around. It was perfectly appropriate, given what creature the Radio Demon took after, and there was something ominous about how it was just the antlers that had been sewn into the vest. With how pointy each tip was, and how gracefully each one locked onto its neighbors, it could also pass as a chain of antlers if Lucian wanted to give describing its shape another go. 

From this angle, Lucian couldn’t confidently tell if that vest was meant to be a mix between a regular vest and a corset. There were no zippers or buttons on the front, and even if the Radio Demon turned so his back was to the ‘ screen ’, his cloak-cape-thing would cover him. So, Lucian wouldn’t be seeing if there was any lacing down up the back. That being said, he had a strong feeling it was a corseted vest simply because of the way the Radio Demon’s waist looked cinched. Even with tailored clothing, that type of emphasis didn’t happen with regular vests. 

As for the bottom half, the Radio Demon’s dress pants were plain in design; just black, while his shoes had some gold highlights running around the edge and covering the toe. The heels were pronounced enough to be recognized as heels, but otherwise still short enough that even Lucian could see himself wearing those shoes without fearing for broken ankles. 

The Morningstar somehow simultaneously looked like he had both more and less to deal with when it came to his outfit. The red dress he was wearing could easily be split into two parts, at least in Lucian’s mind it could. The top half resembled a fancy shirt, with puffed shoulders and flowy sleeves that stopped just above The Morningstar’s dainty wrists. Starting around his collar and coming to a point as it approached his waistline, more gold designs had been sewn into the red fabric. It was done in such a way that if Lucian looked at it without digging into it too much, he could almost mistake it for fancy metal work—like a chest guard that had fancy symbols carved into it. 

Unlike with the Radio Demon, he could tell that there was a corset at play when he looked at The Morningstar’s waistline. Not only was his waist cinched in a way that definitely implied something was going on, but the fabric there also looked different. Lucian didn’t know how to explain it, but he chalked it up to just…looking stiffer. There was something more solid about it compared to the overall flowyness of the rest of the dress. 

That brought Lucian to the bottom half of The Morningstar’s outfit. 

He couldn’t tell how the layering worked with those skirts, just that there had to be multiple layers. Going off of looks alone, maybe black was the foundation since the opening of the next layer revealed black skirts. Then on top of that, a semi-see-through red skirt had been sewn on top. And then on top of that, another black layer had been added on—much shorter than the bottom two skirts. And finally, one last red piece had been used to reconnect the whole thing back to the top half. 

It was so simple, yet so complicated at the same time. 

Lucian was impressed with how The Morningstar had been able to get into that and look as elegant as he did now. No human Lucian knew would be able to pull that off without wrinkling everything, tearing something, or just falling on their faces as soon as they took their first step.

“Awww, you shouldn’t have.” The Morningstar’s cheeks flushed gold as he accepted the flowery offering from the Radio Demon. As opposed to setting it aside or summoning a vase to store it away, he pulled at the stem as a gold glow surrounded his hands. With each tug, the stem got longer and longer until The Morningstar deemed it ready and raised it to his head. With a bit of fiddling, he positioned the flower off to the left side of his head and wrapped the stem around himself before tying it off somewhere in the back. 

It was a rustic flower crown. 

“Lovely, my dear.” The Radio Demon nodded his head. Straightening up, he offered his arm to The Morningstar and waited for the shorter being to take it before turning. “Shall we?” 

The Morningstar’s responding nod was nothing short of eager. 

Chuckling, the Radio Demon walked to the far right of the ‘ screen ’ until a door appeared. As they exited it and came to walk down the hall, Lucian once again recognized the space they were in: the Hazbin Hotel. 

Huh…this was probably the second (or was it third? Lucian wasn’t keeping track as strictly as he probably should be) time the Hazbin Hotel has been brought up in these memories. It must be important, but how? What use would The Morningstar have for a hotel?

Was it a second place of residency for The Morningstar? Was it a common housing place for the Overlords or other important human souls of Pride Ring, and The Morningstar occasionally stayed there if he needed to meet with them for extended periods of time? 

It didn’t explain why he was there for Christmas, of all times, but…hmmm…Lucian didn’t know; did Overlords celebrate Christmas? Was The Morningstar trying to retain certain human holidays to reward the Overlords for their hard work? 

It was a hard call to make, and yet again, one of the big questions Lucian had to force himself away from since he knew it would distract him from the rest of the memory. 

(Besides, the Hazbin Hotel had clearly been abandoned for some time when he arrived to collect the first fake piece. So, whatever significance it held must not be there anymore anyway.) 

If there were other residents at the hotel, none of them dared to step out and bother the two demons as they made their way to the front doors. From there, they walked down a long and empty dirt pathway before making their way into a more city-like environment. 

Sooooo…the hotel was somewhat isolated from the rest of the city, huh? Interesting…

As soon as the Radio Demon and The Morningstar were in the presence of other demons, some of whom could be mortal and some of whom could be Hellborn, several different things happened at once. Several passersbys screamed in what could only be described as pure, unrestrained terror and hightailed in the complete opposite direction. Some had frozen to the spot for a few seconds, then followed that first group when the path the Radio Demon was leading The Morningstar down brought them too close to their still bodies. Some pushed themselves against the nearest building they could find and alternated between trying to merge with the foundation or slowly sinking down and then curling into a tight ball. Some openly gawked at the fight before them. 

The rest—which was a very small handful, mind you—were bold enough to whip out their devices and try snapping pictures of the passing couple. While their admiration was understandable, even Lucian could understand why that was the worst decision to make. 

From what he’s seen of the Radio Demon and his relationship with The Morningstar, he was definitely the possessive type. Lucian couldn’t imagine he’d appreciate pictures of his companion being flooded over Hell’s version of the internet. Especially if this was meant to be a day for them and them only. 

Luckily, there was no ruckus of bloodshed that followed the small onslaught of camera flashes. At least, not on the Radio Demon’s behalf. Instead of lashing out or covering The Morningstar in an attempt to protect him from the public, the Radio Demon kept moving forward. But every time he passed one of those particularly bold passerbys, he must have done…something…because their device would spontaneously combust then and there. He didn’t have to touch them! Whatever magic he was using, it was potent enough to affect things and people just by virtue of the Radio Demon being in his victims’ vicinity. 

Well, I guess that’s one way to do it. 

“Should I have portaled us there?” The Morningstar leaned in closer to the Radio Demon, prompting the other to wrap the arm he had once offered the Fallen Angel around the blonde’s waist. It kept him tucked close without creating any awkward spacing between them. 

“Not over this, I don’t think.” The Radio Demon’s smile softened slightly as he turned to glance down at The Morningstar. “If it was the paparazzi, that’d be another story. But…it’s good for you to be out and about like this. And it’s good for the Sinners of Pride to see their monarch among them if we’re pushing for an official peace treaty with Heaven. It has a…reassuring…effect, even on the more hesitant ones.” 

“Al, it’s been more than a decade. Isn’t that enough time to prove I’m staying?” 

“Under normal circumstances? Yes. Given the great risk we’re taking to barter with Heaven? I’m sorry to say, darling, but even a full century wouldn’t be enough to calm the masses. There will always be an inherent distrust of Heaven among our ranks, one that I assume has existed even before the Exterminations gave Sinners direct contact with angels.” 

Lucian felt his eyes narrow at that.

The Exterminations…

That tale had not been one the Radio Demon had shared on behalf of The Morningstar. It was actually the Keeper who had enlightened what remained of humanity about THAT particular series of events. 

Honestly, after learning about The Exterminations, it was really a wonder that Heaven hadn’t collapsed under the weight of its own corruption sooner. There were so many moral codes that had to have been broken with the implementation of those exterminations. Breaching border lines by entering The Morningstar’s realm? Outright murdering souls under his jurisdiction? Adding insult to injury by permanently ending human souls when their punishment was already a doomed fate in Hell as opposed to the ‘ paradise ’ in Heaven? Eventually breaking the contract that THEY proposed in the first place?

And don’t even get Lucian started on what the Seraphim had to do to get The Morningstar to sign the heartless contract that allowed angels into his realm! History had it that Heaven had taken advantage of a vulnerable moment in The Morningstar’s life and threatened him into signing the contract. Lucian didn’t know if it was actually him that they had threatened, or if they’d threatened someone he loved and he caved because he knew that ‘ someone ’ wouldn’t survive a Heavenly attack as he once had. Many people in his community, specifically, hypothesized that The Morningstar once had a child who Heaven had threatened. It sounded perfectly in-line with the measures Heaven was willing to take in its delusion that they were doing the right thing. 

Of course, that theory could never actually be proven or disproven since no one knew for sure if said child actually existed. Maybe they didn’t, and Heaven had threatened someone else. Maybe they did, and The Morningstar kept them in Hell for their own safety (first from Heaven, now from Roo). No one knew! 

It didn’t matter either way. The bottom line was that Heaven’s actions should have been unacceptable according to their own standards. And the fact that it wasn’t, that it was excused, should have been the first red flag that they were destined to Fall. 

Harder than The Morningstar Fell. 

“We’re natural opposites. Order to chaos. Tyranny to freedom. Community to individuality.” 

“I see what you’re saying. Still, hopefully, that’ll ease up should Heaven accept the peace terms. Stubborn as the Seraphim are, even they must be tired of all this fighting.” The Morningstar sighed. “But let’s not get into that. I’m sorry I brought it up; this was supposed to be a relaxing night and I just-”

“Shush now, little angel.” The Radio Demon’s neck made a grotesque cracking sound as he angled himself downward to kiss The Morningstar’s temple. Then a second as he righted himself and returned his gaze forward. Somehow, the first round—as sudden as it was—wasn’t as loud or as sharp as that second crack. “No need to apologize, I’m the one who brought it up. Besides, there’s still plenty of time for us to enjoy each other’s company without involving Heaven. The night’s barely begun~” 

The Morningstar didn’t respond, he let the silence take over once more as the Radio Demon led on. Some time into their journey, they arrived in a part of town that was rather distinct compared to what they’d passed earlier. Everyone had a much more formal style, in both their clothes and the way they interacted with one another. They were all polite and smiley and courteous and calm, nothing like the panicking demons who’d fled from the passing couple or the rude ones who’d tried to snap pictures neither the Radio Demon or The Morningstar consented to. 

The most anyone did was wave, tip their hats, or curtsy in greeting as the Radio Demon escorted The Morningstar passed them. 

Huh…wonder what this place is? Everyone around seems so…nice. Do they really belong in Hell?

Lucian’s question was soon answered as the place the Radio Demon was walking towards became much more clear on the ‘ screen ’. 

Rosie’s Emporium

Ok then, that explains that then!

If this was indeed the Cannibal Queen’s territory, it was no wonder everyone was so cooperative and friendly. This was one of the few (maybe even only) communities in Pride that held a firm stability in its formation and maintenance prior to God’s departure. 

Speaking of the woman, just as the Radio Demon was within arms’ reach of the door into her emporium, both of them were flung open to reveal the Cannibal Queen herself. 

“Alastah! Lucifah!” She curtsied to them before excitedly waving them inside. “So good ta see ya two. Did ya have a nice walk ovah here?” 

“Only once we got past your borders, I’m afraid.” The Radio Demon became sandwiched between the Cannibal Queen and The Morningstar as they proceeded into the emporium. Given the definition of ‘ emporium ’ and the context that this was THE Cannibal Queen they were talking about here, the shelves of various goods didn’t necessarily surprise Lucian. 

Heck, not even when those ‘ goods ’ involved bottles of blood, slot machines of small limbs, or shelves of miniature heads necessarily shocked Lucian. It was just an…experience…to see them in a store setting rather than spread out across the ground following a raid. Or in the remnants of a broken city that hadn’t escaped Roo’s wrath. Or in the funeral home, when he and the rest of his squadron had to take back the mangled remains of their team mates so that they could have a proper burial. 

“To this day, you and the rest of your dear cannibals remain the only ones in this entire Ring who understand good manners.” 

The Cannibal Queen winced. “Eeesh, do I even wanna know?” 

“It was nothing bad!” The Morningstar rushed to elaborate. “Al’s upset that people are still trying to take pictures of us when we’re out and about. But no one…no one…ya know…actually…tried to…to do anything past that.” 

“More fortunate fer them, I’d say. We all know what woulda happened if there was ta be anotha…incident.” The Cannibal Queen leaned forward slightly so she could look around the Radio Demon to smile softly at The Morningstar. How she could sound so threatening with her next sentence while maintaining that gentle expression was impressive: “And it would be such a shame if Alastah was ta spoil his appetite when tonight’s soooo special. Wouldn’t it?” 

The Morningstar’s responding chuckle was full of nervousness, a complete contrast to how the Radio Demon’s smile widened and his gaze narrowed into something much less affectionate and far more lethal. 

“But! We can put such rudeness behind us now that yer here. I do so hope ya enjoy what I’ve done with the place.” 

The Cannibal Queen led her guests to the back of the emporium, where two red curtains separated the front of the building from…whatever…lay behind them. As her knuckles brushed against the center in order to part them, a series of glyphs and symbols glowed around the entrance. The first one sprouted from the very top of the threshold, then was followed by two others that led to cascading rows that traced along the rest of the doorway. 

A protective barrier, perhaps? 

Lucian couldn’t imagine the Cannibal Queen would allow just anyone to disrupt what was clearly an important meeting between the Radio Demon and The Morningstar. Likewise, the Radio Demon—for all of his protective tendencies—wouldn’t bring The Morningstar to an establishment that wasn’t properly warded. If it wasn’t the paparazzi they needed to keep out, it was the fools who would dare take this meet-up as a sign that either individual was vulnerable and attacked to gain a better foothold in Hell’s hierarchy. 

Lucian hasn’t forgotten what the Radio Demon said to him, all the way back in the first Ring: “ power is how you protect yourself ”. 

“Ta da!” The Cannibal Queen threw her arm out as the new room became visible. 

The coloring of the room was the same as the rest of the building; dulled pink walls for the most part with darker shades of pink providing a type of border just below where the wall met the ceiling. It was a surprisingly calm environment to look at, nothing was too loud or bright, nor was it too dark and gloomy. 

In the center of the room was a canopy, something Lucian once thought he’d only seen on beds but was apparently learning they could also be set above tables as decorations. The curtains themselves were a more pastel pink, though still dulled with (what he assumed was) greys mixed in so as to maintain a calmer tone. At the bottom, red roses had been sewn in as border decorations, complete with a long green vine that connected them and leaves that would occasionally sprout from specific blooms. All but the curtain facing the doorway had been pulled closed, guaranteeing privacy until the occupants of the room were ready to open them back up. 

The table sheltered within the canopy was relatively simple in design. The dark wood (Lucian didn’t know which wood and he wouldn’t bother guessing since he wasn’t a woodworker) of it and chairs were shined to perfection, as evidenced by how the surface gleamed in certain areas. Cushioning the chairs were some pink seat cushions, then some heart-shaped supports that had been tied to the backs of the chairs. 

The food that had already been set out was light, likely meant to serve as appetizers until the actual meal had been prepared. And a pot of tea had been left in the very center, flanked by two tea cups. 

How charming. 

It was a very intimate setting even when it wasn’t too heavily decorated. 

Or, maybe it was the lightness of the decoration that helped it in that regard? Lucian could see how something gaudy and needlessly expensive might take away from the sincerity of an arrangement. But something simple and cozy? Something quaint and comfortable? That sounded much better for a nice evening together. 

“It looks so…inviting.” The Morningstar’s tone had some clearly distinguished awe in it as he stared at the canopy. And there were specks of sparkles in his gaze as he was led closer to the actual table. “Like a little picnic!” 

“Indeed, Yer Majesty.” The Cannibal Queen visibly preened at the implied approval and praise from The Morningstar. “Figured tonight was the kind of night where a nice sit would be bettah than a load of bling.” 

“It’s utterly charming in how elegant everything is.” The Radio Demon pulled The Morningstar off to one side, then pulled his chair out before the other being could do or say anything. Even blushing took a few extra seconds to settle in. “Small, but effective. Thank you for your work, dear.” 

The Morningstar nodded in agreement as he took a seat and allowed the Radio Demon to push him back in. When he looked up at the Cannibal Queen, the blush was the heaviest it was going to get as he smiled at her. “Thank you for this.”

“Oh! Anything fer two of mah favorite people!” The Cannibal Queen gently patted The Morningstar’s cheek, then did the same to the Radio Demon’s shoulder as he passed her on the way to his seat. “Now then, I’ve prepared three different courses to cater to everyone’s palette. So, leave some room for each one. Ya hear?” 

“I’ll try!” The Morningstar turned to look at the assortment on the table, eyes zeroing in on the mini sandwiches off to his left. 

What was it with the mini sandwiches? Other than Queen Beelzebub’s realm, Lucian’s only had sandwiches that were meant to be filling enough to count as a full meal. Yet here they were again, acting as a snack. 

“Good. And don’t worry about mah staff. They’re being compensated for their work, so take all the time ya need tonight. Alright?” 

At both the Radio Demon and The Morningstar’s nod, the Cannibal Queen offered them one last beaming smile before leaving them to their own devices. Following her departure, the Radio Demon set about pouring them both some tea while The Morningstar picked up the top mini sandwich and brought it close for observation. 

From Lucian’s perspective, he was too far away to tell what the filling was. But…The Morningstar seemed to enjoy it. And that was the important part here, right? That the guests enjoy their meals?

The Radio Demon withheld from diving straight into any of the appetizers, instead striking up the start of a conversation that went unheard by Lucian. Or, more accurately, he could technically hear that the Radio Demon was talking—just as he heard The Morningstar’s voice when he responded—but words themselves didn’t translate through the ‘ screen ’. Everything had become blurred together as the conversation went on. 

While confusing, since this has never happened before, it didn’t worry Lucian. Firstly, as he’s fretted about several times by now, these weren’t HIS memories to begin with. So, not being able to hear what could be a private conversation? That was hardly something to be concerned about. In fact, depending on what the topic of conversation was, maybe it was a good thing that this was happening. There were some things he just wasn’t meant to know, that any human wasn’t meant to know. 

Maybe this was The Morningstar’s magic or Lucian’s own conscience unwittingly protecting him from being exposed to something potentially dangerous?

Secondly, the Radio Demon and The Morningstar continued to look like they were enjoying themselves. They were at peace, then they were laughing, then they were at peace again, then they were laughing again, then they were back to being content! They were clearly having a good time, so why should Lucian worry about what was going on here? 

It was certainly preferable to the conversation The Morningstar had regarding his shapeshifting, or how the Radio Demon was trying to help his companion make peace with someone touching his wings. 

Thirdly, moving away from all of that, it wasn’t as if Lucian was bored as he watched them memory play out. There was some satisfaction to be had in watching the Radio Demon and The Morningstar have fun. Just as there was a lot of intrigue as the Cannibal Queen’s aforementioned ‘ courses ’ came out in timed increments. 

The first round was heavy on the meat, and not just any meat. Lucian could tell from the very…ehhh…specific…limbs brought to the table that these were probably other mortal souls rather than just animals. Unless animals from Hell had evolved to have opposable thumbs and individual toes. Or evidence of both kneecaps and ankles instead of one or the other. 

It was interesting to see that only the Radio Demon partook in the various meat dishes, but maybe that’s what the Cannibal Queen meant when she talked about catering to everyone’s palette? It didn’t escape Lucian’s notice that the second course that had been brought out looked like it favored vegetable platters. Even the ones coated in some sort of sauce were easily distinguished as vegetables (it helped that most of the meat included literal limbs, and were therefore easy to pick out). And The Morningstar didn’t mind helping himself to generous servings from dishes of THAT course. 

Huh…so The Morningstar is a vegetarian. 

Not a theory that Lucian would come up with on his own, but hey, he wasn’t judging here! To each their own, to each their own. 

Once the first two courses had been thoroughly pillaged, the third course was brought out while the previous two were being cleared away. Unlike its predecessors, there was only one dish that made up the entire course. A dish that had been hidden from view with the strategic use of a large cover that looked like it could fit a wedding cake under it! It was placed just a little off from the center, likely so its height wouldn’t block the table’s occupants from seeing each other. 

“Before we dig into our dessert-” the Radio Demon’s words coming out coherent and crisp was a shock to Lucian, but he still hung onto every word now that there was something to actually listen to. 

What could he say? As understandable as it was that he was blocked from certain parts of the conversation, his brain liked it when he could actually make out what he was hearing. 

“There’s something I’d like to ask you, Lucifer.” 

The Morningstar tilted his head as the Radio Demon reached across the table. Both of his palms were facing upwards, inviting The Morningstar to willingly allow himself to be held. It was an invitation the blonde took without question, prompting the Radio Demon to squeeze both of The Morningstar’s smaller hands in his own. 

“We’ve been at each other’s side for 8 years now.” The Radio Demon started. “You’ve seen and supported me at my best and my worst, just as I have seen you through your darkest days and joined you in your brightest hours.” 

A glint of concern appeared in The Morningstar’s gaze, but he did nothing to act on it. Just allowed the Radio Demon the space for his piece. 

“We may not have had the…friendliest…start, but…you should know that even when we weren’t fond of each other’s company, I felt pride when it was my actions that re-awakened the spark you felt like you’d lost during your isolation. I… liked …seeing you when you were alive. I liked watching your fire return. I liked watching you flourish.” 

That concern vanished, replaced by a teary happiness that would soon make Lucian cry the longer he watched this play out. 

“I continue to adore seeing it today, and I will strive to do whatever it takes to ensure that this time, the flame never extinguishes.” The Radio Demon brought their hands up and carefully pressed his lips to The Morningstar’s knuckles for a few moments. When he rose, he wasn’t the only one with The Morningstar anymore. His shadow rose from its place on the ground, hiding something within its own claws as the Radio Demon continued speaking: “You’ve done something to me, Lucifer Morningstar. Something no one has ever managed to do before.” 

These words…

They were the same as the ones he’s heard from the Christmas memory. 

“Once upon a time, I never even dared to think that I could…love…someone like I love you. Even my Mamman…what I feel for you, it’s…it’s something…different. Something…deeper. I endured losing her because I was never arrogant enough to assume I could challenge death for her life back, but you…if…if I ever lost you, I…I fear…I fear my sanity would go with you…” 

As if to prove his point, the Radio Demon let out a harsh laugh. For sure, the most prominent thing in it was the hysteria; the mentioned ‘ insanity ’ that would overtake him if he lost the one he loved. But beneath that? Beneath that, Lucian could also detect another emotion: fear. Panic. Maybe even some desperation, some wish that such a tragedy would never come to pass. 

“You hold my heart in your hands.” The Radio Demon nuzzled into the backs of The Morningstar’s hands. Lucian wasn’t sure if it was because he needed the comfort, or if he would have done it even if he hadn’t just listed off a worse-case-scenario. “You’ve captured me; utterly, entirely. A golden cage, created by your attention and held fast by your love. A cage I’ve willingly remained in when I swore I’d never let myself be leashed again…”

The Morningstar leaned forward as much as he could, bracing himself on his elbows as he tried to  nuzzle into the Radio Demon’s head. It looked like an uncomfortable position to be in, but he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, so who was Lucian to take that away from him? 

The Radio Demon allowed himself to be nuzzled for a few moments, then raised his head so he was looking directly into The Morningstar’s eyes. There had to be less than an inch of space between their faces at that point. 

“I never want to leave it. I never want to leave you .” 

The shadow glided forward, its hands turning so one was on the top as the other supported…whatever…they were holding from the bottom. It was a position you’d expect to see when children were playing around and mimicking the movements of a mouth. Or-

…wait…

Or…or…

“Lucifer Morningstar…”

The shadow’s claws curled inwards, and it began to vibrate in place. 

“...will you allow me to stay by your side…to fight alongside you…to celebrate our eternal afterlives together…”

Lucian welcomed the sting of his tears this time around. 

He even let himself release a happy sob before bringing his hand up to cover any future sounds. As unashamed as he was for enjoying this, he couldn’t miss a single moment! He couldn’t let his own cries drown out the Radio Demon’s words. 

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!

“...will you marry me?” 

The shadow’s top hand sprang up, revealing an opened ring box. 

Now, Lucian wasn’t an expert on rings. Sure, he’s seen many as a result of interacting with a lot of different people over the course of his life. And he’s probably picked up some information here and there when one of his team mates discussed wanting to propose to their significant other, and wanting advice for how to go about selecting the right ring. But he didn’t know nearly enough about metals, crystals, gems, stones, inlays, shapes, or any of that to comment on the quality of the ring the Radio Demon presented to The Morningstar. 

What he could say?

It was still gorgeous, regardless of anything else. 

The band wasn’t a regular band, certainly not like the one Lucian was wearing for the sake of selling the ‘ fake ring pieces ’ story. While it was gold, as one might expect for an engagement ring (that or silver), it wasn’t shaped like the standard. It was intentionally designed to look like a snake that was serpentining in a circular pattern, with a blood red crystal or gemstone sandwiched between its head and its tail. It wasn’t on its own though; carefully holding it in place was a black border that, when looking closely, had a pair of antlers sprouting from the top. 

The Morningstar; the snake that gifted humanity free will. 

The Radio Demon; the deer that gifted humanity protection. 

“Alastor…” The Morningstar’s gasp was watery, and the tears leaking from his eyes came out in such thick streams that Lucian was surprised he hadn't blinded himself yet. “Oh, fuck…yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, a million times yes!” 

The ‘ screen ’ began to crack and brighten just as The Morningstar launched himself over the table to get to the Radio Demon. As disappointing as it was to see the story end just when the climax had hit its peak, Lucian supposed he couldn’t be too mad when he realized just how heavy he was now crying. For his own sake, maybe stepping back was a good thing. Lest he be swallowed up by…everything…that overtook him when the Radio Demon presented that ring. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“One piece left to go.” 

“Yes, exciting, isn’t it? But…Alastor, there’s something you should know before Lucifer comes back…”

“Mmmm?”

“I can’t promise he’ll be exactly the same as when he was taken. For all of the strength behind my power, it’s still…corruption. It originates from the Root of Evil. I can’t say how that, combined with the trauma of all his previous memories, will affect his psyche.”

“...will he still love me? Will he still love his daughters? Will he still love his true family?” 

“If that love was genuine, if it remained as pure as his love for Lilith once was throughout everything he’s been through, then…yes. It’ll prevail beyond the corruption.” 

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Chapter Text

Lucian was almost afraid to open his eyes when he realized he was fully conscious. 

He’d done a lot of crying during that last memory, and there was a strong chance that he would a) look like an absolute mess because of it and b) start a new round of sobbing. While keeping his eyes closed wouldn’t really help with problem a), he liked to think that problem b) could at least be mitigated if he squeezed his eyes tightly enough that any tears could be wiped away before they got too far down his face. 

Breathe in…breathe out…breathe in…breathe out…

Lucian felt himself shudder as he struggled to calm his breathing. It felt different than when he was coming down from a panic attack, or when he was processing grief. Because this wasn’t a feeling he necessarily wanted to shy away from. He just saw the Radio Demon propose to The Morningstar, and the Fallen Angel said yes! That was wonderful news. It was something to celebrate, to be happy about! 

But it was also overwhelming. 

Like, holy shit…what did Lucian do with that?! 

He had so many questions on top of feeling just…just…utter glee! Starting with why the Radio Demon wasn’t technically qualified as Hell’s second King (or Hell’s Queen, or Hell’s King as The Morningstar took over as Hell’s Queen) if he had married the realm’s sovereign and transitioning into why that had never been mentioned in the new age of human-demon interaction. Not to sound entitled, but it felt like that would be a pretty important announcement. 

Unless it didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things? Maybe the Radio Demon liked the position he held and trusted the Dominions to support The Morningstar as he reigned as Hell’s decisive head? Maybe officially declaring him Hell’s King/Queen could create some sort of power imbalance since he was technically supposed to be one of the representatives for mortal souls (Lucian didn’t know how that would work but it was something that could happen)? Maybe any new titles he had only applied to Hell residents and humans still living on Earth had no business knowing until they were in The Morningstar’s jurisdiction? 

So many different possibilities, all of which were perfectly reasonable of an explanation—again and again Lucian ran into this problem! 

He couldn't help but laugh, a harsh and painful sound thanks to how forced it felt as it worked its way up his throat. 

Damn…what a fucking day!

“Everything alright there?” The eel head’s lower-pitched voice came from somewhere off to Lucian’s right. There was a touch of concern to her tone, but she wasn’t pushy about it. She let Lucian take what time he needed to gather himself and then sit up without rushing over to smother him. 

“Y-yeah…” Lucian let out another dry laugh, mainly so he could get whatever reactions he still had within him out while he had the space to do so. It lasted a good few chuckles or so before he was able to get his breathing back under control. Once he accomplished that, it finally felt safer to open his eyes and take in his surroundings. “Just…saw something happy, is all. Really happy.” 

As was previously assured, Queen Leviathan had returned both of them to the surface while Lucian was watching The Morningstar’s dream sequence. Like Queen Beelzebub, she’d left him to rest on a piece of furniture—well, ok, it was a bean bag but Lucian still counted that—instead of just leaving him on the ground. Seeing as how this was most definitely not here the first time he saw this place, he could only assume she summoned it specifically for him. 

Which was rather sweet. 

“Oh, so those are happy tears then?” The humanoid head had much heavier concern laced into her words, and when Lucian looked towards her, she was wincing slightly as she looked at him. The eel head just looked intrigued. 

“Yes. My apologies for causing you any alarm.” 

“No need.” The eel head raised her hand and gently waved him off. “Stuff happens sometimes, stuff we can’t always control. We’re just glad you haven’t been traumatized yet.” 

“Eh, my life on Earth has probably done more damage to me than anything I could encounter here.” A second passed before Lucian rushed to clarify: “Actually, scratch that—that Seraphim could probably do something to hurt me, buuuuuut…I don’t think it’ll come to that. And even if it does, King Asmodeus told me I had escape options, so…yeah. There’s that…”

Queen Leviathan’s heads nodded, both sneering at the mention of Sera. 

When no words of beration or indications that there was anything further to be said followed, Lucian took the opportunity to look away from the Dominion as he raised his left hand. He had to turn it a few times to get a good angle on the newest fake piece. 

It was a light turquoise color, and was shaped like an artist's iteration of a water droplet. It fit Queen Leviathan’s Ring quite well, assuming the large body of water they were surrounded by was actually part of her realm and not just something she constructed for protecting the altar. If it was, Lucian wasn’t judging! He just didn’t think it’d be something Queen Leviathan would need to go out of her way to do since a smaller pool of water could have worked just as well; the spell she used would have been just as effective. Right?

“One last piece to go.” Lucian’s smile was small as he stared at his ring’s newest addition. 

“Yep. Then that bitch is out of our hair for good.” The eel growled. 

The humanoid head gasped. “Language! We have young ears present!” 

“Uhhh…Your Majesty?” Lucian’s head rose back up to look at the Dominion. “You can use whatever type of language you wish. I assure you, I’ve heard it all. I’ve probably even used some of it myself. Let me tell ya—sometimes, you need a stronger word than ‘ fuck ’ when resetting bones or popping joints back into place.” 

The eel head smirked at her humanoid counterpart as the latter pouted. 

“Oh, sure, gang up on me. Why don’t ya?!” 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” The eel head chuckled, turning to smile approvingly at Lucian. “Now, I know this is the part where we’re supposed to hurt you to make it look like you had to fight your way out, and all that jazz. But, frankly, I’ve got a better idea.” 

She beckoned Lucian over with a small wiggle of her fingers. When he got close enough for her to touch, she carefully grabbed hold of his shoulder and pulled him closer. 

“The water out here-” She used her other hand to wave towards the body of water that hadn’t been gathered in the center of the island’s open circle. It almost bordered the smaller pool. “It’s not spelled. If you’re willing, I think we can just dunk you in for a few seconds and chuck you back through the portal after. You can tell the Seraphim the altar was hidden in a cave, and you had to take a swim to get to the entrance. That was it, that was the trap. Underwater caves were around during her time, I think.” 

Lucian giggled. “I’m pretty sure they’re still around today, Your Majesty.” 

“Probably.” Both heads tilted off to opposite sides as the eel head reaffirmed: “You up for it?” 

Taking a few moments to consider her offer, Lucian decided to start with a quick self check-in. When he really focused on himself and what he was feeling, he realized that the phantom sensations he once fretted about—the ones that followed him after his departure from King Asmodeus’s realm—were completely gone. He didn’t even think he had to worry about phantom pains. His body must have recovered and sorted itself out while he was unconscious. So, with that in mind, getting dunked in water shouldn’t cause him any panic now that he knew he wouldn’t have to worry about sending himself into a sensation frenzy once something touched him wrong. 

In addition to that, it was nice that this was a case where their cover story didn’t require him to get somewhat horrifically injured. Again, going back to King Asmodeus and his fire, Lucian didn’t think he wanted to risk exposing himself to massive amounts of pain when he’s just recovered from that ordeal. 

Really, there was no reason he shouldn’t agree. 

“Sure.” Lucian nodded, walking past Queen Leviathan and off to the opposite edge of the altar’s pool. She kept a loose hold on him until he got right up to the water’s edge, and only released him after he took a deep breath and dove beneath the water’s surface. He was expecting it to be cold, at the very least. To his surprise, it was actually lukewarm. 

Huh…nice! 

Was the water like that all the time or was Queen Leviathan doing something to it? If she could spell water to create a crystalized prison, warming it or cooling it didn’t sound too hard. Plus, she was the one to propose the idea. So…forethought?

Whatever it was, Lucian had half a mind to stay under for longer than a few seconds. It was like a relaxing bath without the fun bubbles, or his prized rubber ducks! Too bad he really had to get going if he wanted to finally help The Morningstar put an end to Sera’s schemes. 

Rising back up, Lucian exhaled harshly to force any and all water away from his mouth before sucking in some air once he breached the surface. Swimming back to the island’s edge took less than ten seconds, and when he pulled himself out of the water, that’s when the slightest chill wracked up his frame. Not enough to really bother him, just something he couldn’t really ignore either. 

Oh well. 

He’s had to continue missions while covered in sweat, dirt, grime, and blood (separately and altogether). A bit of water wasn’t going to get to him. 

“Perfect!” The humanoid head cooed while the eel head nodded at him. 

Re-attaching her hand to Lucian’s shoulder, Queen Leviathan guided him back to the portal and offered him one last farewell before—literally—chucking him through it.

As she said she would. 

He supposed it helped with his cover story of yet another hasty escape. And he’s been making quite the dramatic entrances for the last few portals, so he might as well continue that pattern. 

“Got the sixth piece.” Lucian nodded towards Sera when she turned towards him. He forced himself not to glare when he saw her eyes practically light up in what he could only assume was excitement, a controlled facade he only got away with since he dove into his cover story when he felt a healthy amount of disgust well up inside of him. “Underwater cave this time around. Roo must have thought that was enough of a trap to keep humans out, cause I didn’t see any monsters guarding the actual altar when I got down there.” 

“Yes, yes.” She nodded absentmindedly, floating over to him and grabbing onto his hand without permission. This time, he couldn’t stop himself from taking a step back. Luckily for him, the Seraphim was too distracted marveling at the fake pieces of his equally fake ring to call him out for it (if she cared at all about it, that is). “Six pieces…we- you’re so close…The Morningstar will be very pleased when all of the pieces have been brought together.” 

There was an overcoating of hysteria to Sera’s voice as she ‘ celebrated ’ Lucian’s success; an unhinged giddiness that she either didn’t realize had come out or didn’t care to hide now that she thought she was one portal away from getting what she wanted. It should have worried Lucian, maybe made him feel uncomfortable since a happy Seraphim was sure to spell out trouble. Tainted Seraphims were already a nightmare to deal with when they were just mindless beasts, but one that had something to look forward to added a new level of concentration to their demented happiness. 

The joke was on her though, there was no happy ending as far as she was concerned. 

‘ The Morningstar will be very pleased when all of the pieces have been brought together ’, huh?

Oh, he’ll be pleased about something alright. 

“Indeed.” Lucian’s forced smile would have looked unconvincing to anyone else, but a deluded Seraphim was too lost in her own little world to truly take notice. That was fine with him. Her excitement with how close he was to assembling The Remnant of Heaven just gave him the excuse he needed not to stay in her limbo for another minute. “Since the last portal didn’t give me much trouble, I think I’ll take a chance with the last one right now. The sooner I get to the altar, the better, right?” 

“Right!” Sera let Lucian’s hand drop and herded him towards the last portal. With how persistent she was with her pushing, she probably would have shoved him into the still-silver circle had he not dug his heels into the ground once he felt like they were close enough. 

Part of him wanted to scold her for rushing it. It wouldn’t do anything to her or to help the situation, but it might help him get some of his frustration towards her out in a way that didn’t alert her of anything being amiss in her plan. When he really considered the idea though, he also had to consider the possibility that he’d go off on an entire tangent if he let himself get started. If he wanted to avoid that, the best thing to do would be to just let Sera’s rudeness go. 

So, that’s what he did. 

He remained silent, focusing on the routine of the portal’s booming sound, followed by its shift from silver to green. It helped keep his mind off Sera, and how she was still touching him—still urging him forward even when he’d already shown light resistance towards such proximity. 

Last one…this is the last one!

He just needed to get through this, and Sera would be done. She wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else after this; not humans and not The Morningstar or his court. 

It all ended after this last piece. 

“Good luck, Mr. Magne.” 

Lucian’s nod was curt as he stepped into the portal. At last, Sera’s hand was off of him and he was in a realm where she couldn’t see him. 

He could turn his full attention towards the actual Ring itself, and the Dominion he’d be facing. 

To start with, the overall atmosphere was strangely therapeutic. All of the colors were toned down and easy on the eyes. And there was a well balanced mix between buildings and plant life, much as was the case in Lucian’s home back on Earth. 

The floating islands…those reminded Lucian of simpler days, when he was still a child and fascinated by fantasy books. A lot of the intermediate fiction he got into either featured entire realms taking refuge in the sky or small islands littering it, as if they were replacing the stars (without actually replacing the stars since they and the moon still existed in fiction). 

Standing before him was an interesting mix of architecture. Off to the left was a tall building that looked like a typical office building, or maybe even a hospital. It was simple in its color scheme: a truly pastel pink foundation for whatever was used to build the actual building (its smooth textures made Lucian think of concrete, but he wasn’t too sure) and then some pastel purple for the windows. Gold rounded rectangles marked each story of the building, separating the windows in a way that looked so natural even with the difference in material and color. 

The front entrance was composed of two double-doors, both a greyish pink while the windows remained that pastel purple shade. Hanging above them was a sign with some glyphs that Lucian couldn’t read, and to complete the whole thing was a pastel pink tent-like top that offered shade. It looked like the back half was attached directly to the building while the front was held up by two greyish-pink pillars. 

To the right was a mansion. This time, unlike in Queen Beelzebub’s case, it was easy to tell that this other building was probably meant to be a home instead of…something else; some other large building. It looked like a house, if that house had been inflated to be four times bigger than a typical house he’d encounter back on Earth. And it followed the same color scheme—pastel pink foundation with pastel purple windows. Occasionally, gold stripes would mark the outline of certain parts of the roof or doorways. 

Both of these buildings looked like they would have demons in them, likely working or just living their lives. So, where did that leave him? Which one did he go into if he only wanted to run into the Dominion, and not any Hellborn?

Lucian didn’t know how long he stood in front of the portal, alternating between staring at the office/hospital building and the mansion, just trying to figure out which call to make. However long it was, it was surprising that no resident of the Ring—be they a worker who could be employed in the building or a servant who could be helping around in the mansion—saw him, and/or approached him. 

As was the case for every other Ring, it was always the Dominion who came to greet him first. Maybe it was because they could tell when a mortal soul entered their realm, maybe it was because the Radio Demon warned them, maybe it was a combination of both. 

Whatever it was, Lucian was relieved to see the doors to the office/hospital building open after standing outside (likely resembling a complete idiot) for several minutes. 

Queen Belphegor, the last Dominion there was to meet. 

The only thing humanity had gotten ‘ wrong ’ in their artistic portrayal of her was how fluffy she was. They overdid it; the only visible fluff Lucian could see was her hair. It wasn’t completely straight, but it wasn’t curled either. It shaped itself into a cotton ball-like sheet that fell down her back. Given that her facial appearance and the shape of her ears implied there was some sheep mixture in her anatomy, maybe having bushy hair wasn’t too out of character. 

As for everything else, humanity was fairly accurate. Four arms, a candle on her forehead head (Lucian didn’t know where that came from and he never cared enough to ask), little horns poking out of her head, a long neck, and a lavender-based color scheme. 

“Greetings, little one.” She spoke so quietly, especially if Lucian was to compare her to Dominions like General Satan and King Mammon. Her tone was consistently soft too, in contrast with Queen Beelzebub’s energetic speech or Queen Leviathan’s switch between low steadiness and higher-pitched excitement. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s not everyday we Hellborn see mortal souls who are destined for The Garden.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, Queen Belphegor.” Lucian bowed at the waist, only remaining down for a few seconds before straightening back up. “All of your realms have been…interesting to traverse. I’ve never seen entire floating islands until now.” 

“Yes. The Morningstar was a strong advocate for involving us when he was creating each Ring. He insisted that our dominion over it should grant us some say in how it was designed.” 

Made sense. 

“Come.” One of her hands, one from the lower pair of arms, reached out and splayed itself behind his shoulder. Even with the sharp tip of her claws skimming over him, her touch still felt immensely more comfortable compared to when Sera touched him. She turned him so he was properly facing the front entrance of the office/hospital, then gently pulled him along as she moved back towards it. “Let’s not waste time. The altar’s on the top floor.” 

Lucian stepped closer to Queen Belphegor’s side as she guided him inside, at which point it wasn’t just her hand on his back anymore. She moved so that her entire arm was wrapped around his shoulders, almost like she was hugging him as she led them to an elevator. The doorway wasn’t small by any means, but that didn’t stop the shock that momentarily overtook Lucian when both he and Queen Belphegor managed to squeeze in without any uncomfortable shoving at one another. 

With King Asmodeus, the elevator they rode in had been appropriately sized to fit his entire self—Lucian’s body didn’t matter since he was peacefully sitting in the palm of the Dominion’s hand. With Queen Belphegor, it was slightly smaller, just enough that she had to hunch if she didn’t want to hit her head on the ceiling. 

Thank The Morningstar this building only had a handful of stories. Lucian couldn’t imagine her neck would appreciate having to remain that way for very long.

“So…just…just out of curiosity…do you…uhhh…” Lucian looked up at Queen Belphegor just as the elevator dinged. Knowing she’d safely guide him to the right door once they stepped out, he kept his gaze on her even as his feet moved him forward. “Do you know how this whole…plan…is gonna work once all the fake pieces are together?” 

The Radio Demon hadn’t gone into detail of how Sera’s limbo would be destroyed once Lucian got his hands on all seven fake pieces. At the time, Lucian hadn’t pried since everything felt like it was happening so quickly and he was eager to prove that he was capable of helping. Looking back on it, maybe he should have taken the time to ask some clarifying questions before he was knocked out. 

Then again…hmmm…

Would it have been safe to tell Lucian that information when the Radio Demon knew he’d be returning to Sera several times over? 

Maybe not…you know what; maybe it was a good thing he didn’t tell me the plan. 

That wouldn’t stop Lucian from guessing though! He assumed that there was actual power in each one he got, not only to trick Sera into believing they were real, but also because the entire plan came down to using magic to do away with her and her dimension. Brute force didn’t work; if it had, The Morningstar wouldn’t have had to worry about her in the first place. Now, that power could be used to do…something. What that ‘ something ’ was? That was the big mystery. Maybe trigger an explosion? Maybe it could be used to open a different portal that would actually allow The Morningstar and the Dominions entry to her limbo? Maybe any magic stored in the completed ring would slowly ooze out and burn away her limbo? 

(If it was the first option, King Asmodeus’s comment about keeping the portals leading to Hell’s Rings open suddenly took on a whole new meaning.)

“We’ll go over that once you have the piece.” Queen Belphegor hummed. “It’ll make more sense when it’s all brought together.” 

Uhhh…ok…

“Understood.” Lucian nodded up at her, not fully believing himself but willing to push through since it was a Dominion telling him about it. 

The vagueness was the tiniest bit unsettling, granted. But…well…

This was a Dominion! So, everything should be fine in the end, right?

“Thank you.” 

“No.” The hold Queen Belphegor had on him tightened significantly, to the point where he felt like he was being crushed to her side. “ Thank you for coming.” 

There was something about the way she said that…something in her tone that…that…

Argh!

There was just something there! But Lucian couldn’t put his finger on it. He tried to let it go as he was led down a long hallway, then stopped in front of one of the last rooms, but it nagged at the back of his mind. Hell, even when he was face-to-face with the last altar and brimming with excitement at the prospect of all of this being over, he couldn’t get Queen Belphegor’s reaction out of his head. 

Don’t think about it too much! Just…just let it all go…

Lucian reached forward once the altar was within touching distance. 

Let it all go…Let the magic in…

When his fingers made contact with the orb, Lucian expected the darkness that took hold. 

What he didn’t expect was for it to envelope him completely, leaving him as…nothing. 

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“At long last…at long last-!” 

“Quickly, summon the fragments! We need to get them properly fitted before God tries to interfere!”

Chapter Text

When Lucifer went down, Alastor had dared to hope it was a nightmare.

He hoped that an angelic warrior had gotten to him; that they had actually managed to wound him with their blade, severely enough that the effect of massive blood loss would hit him but not grave enough that he would actually die. He hoped that a hallucination was born from such an injury; from a combination of the pain, the effects of blood loss, and his concern for Lucifer. He hoped that his mind was conjuring up the worst-case scenarios after years of being conditioned to do so, in preparation for devising a plan that would account for such things and then counter them.

He hoped that it wasn’t true!

But he could only hold onto that hope for so long…

Not more than a minute after he had seen it happen, he felt it. Within the depths of his soul—ironically, something he only had because Lucifer had broken his contract in order to safely create a soul bond between them—he felt his tether to Lucifer just shatter. There was no lead up; there wasn’t even a slow disintegration that could have at least given Alastor the brief illusion that there was something he could do to salvage it. One moment, Lucifer’s side was buzzing with adrenaline and the next, it was completely gone. 

Snap! 

Zilch!

Nothing!

Nada!

No one’s home, goodbye now! 

And Alastor, he…he…he…!

…fuuuuuuck! 

Alastor couldn’t focus on anything else. The entire WAR that had been brought to their front step was forgotten as he bulldozed his way to Lucifer’s body, uncaring of how many imp or hellhound soldiers he may have crushed underfoot. The Archangel that had done the deed—Michael, because of course it was him—was smart to dive away as Alastor summoned his tentacles. Once he was in reaching distance, they were originally meant to help him simultaneously shove the poor-excuse-of-a-brother away while pulling Lucifer’s now limp body to him. As it stood, Alastor could put all of his attention and effort into using them to create a protective cocoon around him and his now deceased soul mate. 

“No…” Alastor whispered, shrinking with each second that passed. As soon as he was his ‘ regular ’ size, he scooped Lucifer up into a bridal carry and clutched him as close as physically possible. “Nononononono…no…please…!” 

Alastor brought Lucifer’s head up so it was pressed into his shoulder; his right arm cradled the back of his head while his left hand came up to press against Lucifer’s right cheek. It kept his head in place, allowing Alastor to nuzzle and kiss at Lucifer’s temple without any concern that he’d jostle him too much. 

He didn’t cool under Alastor’s lips, as humans did when their circulation stopped. But that did nothing to assure Alastor—Lucifer had never been human. He wasn’t born the same way humans were, he didn’t live the same way humans did, and now Alastor was finding that he didn’t die the same way humans did either!

“You can’t do this…not to me…” Alastor’s eyes stung as the tears flooded out. He preferred it to the achy hollowness that was quickly settling into his chest now that his soul didn’t feel Lucifer’s energy resonating alongside it. At least that sting was temporary. 

Something told Alastor this deep, inescapable weight would be much more difficult to recover from. 

“Don’t you remember?” Alastor spoke directly into Lucifer’s temple now, words imprinting themselves into his very being. “When I asked for your hand; when I bore my heart and soul to you; when I promised you my eternity; when I accepted your promise of eternity…I told you…I warned you…” 

Alastor could feel his shadow materialize in front of him before he could see its blackened limbs reach for Lucifer. The clawed fingers of its left hand brushed frantically through his soft blonde locks, and its right hand reached down to take Lucifer’s right one in its grasp. Various bouts of radio feedback and sporadic periods of cluttered shrieking emanated from his old friend, and its green eyes became slits. No longer open; no longer a witness; no longer able to bear the feeling of looking down at their deceased mate and knowing they were too late to save them. 

“If I ever lost you, my sanity would be lost as well.” The radio filter protecting Alastor’s voice became distorted, warping and cutting into the air as if the intention was to deafen anyone unable to escape his reach. 

Not his angel though. 

Never his angel. 

If he was still alive—if he was still with Alastor—Alastor would ensure that Lucifer’s ears would never be tainted with such hideousness. Alastor’s ugly side, which was a side he knew he had and one he shamelessly allowed to grow, would be kept at bay so Lucifer could bask in the parts that were capable of loving him. All of it…it would all be beautiful and harmonious and pleasant!

If only Lucifer was still here. If only he was still with Alastor!

But…but he…but he wasn’t now…

He was…gone. 

He was gone, he was gone, he was gone, he was gone, he was gone!

His angel was gone!

Before Alastor could catch himself (not that he would, mind you), he was cackling hysterically. It started while he was still pressed into Lucifer’s temple, then continued after he leaned up so he could throw his head back without accidentally knocking into Lucifer. He commanded his tentacles to return to him as he laughed, eager to see what expressions Heaven and Hell alike would make once everyone realized what had just been created. 

What had just been let out. 

“They’ll all see.” Alastor’s words came out breathless, then he was back to laughing. “They’ll all see what they’ve done-!” 

The disappearance of his cocoon exposed Alastor to an…interesting…sight, indeed. 

Whereas he had expected to see an active battlefield—complete with angels soaring through the air, succubi chasing after them, imps and hellhounds doing their best to gang up on the ground soldiers, Sins tearing their way through the Seraphim—or Heaven’s short celebration of the King of Hell’s demise, he saw order. Order in the most confusing, but satisfying way imaginable. 

Everyone had come to a standstill, though it was only Hell’s residents who really had a choice in the matter. They were obviously shocked that all of the fighting had taken a pause; whereas anyone who had shown allegiance to Heaven—both now and in the past—had been chained to the ground, forced to submit to the greater power that held them captive. 

Using ‘ chained ’ partially metaphorically, that is. Their wings were bound by thorny vines that sprouted from the ground, and their limbs had been subjected to the same treatment. Gold blood, some of which could have come from earlier fights but now most definitely came from being cut into by the thorns, trickled down every patch of open and covered skin that had the displeasure of coming into contact with the restraints. 

The vines were mostly black, but if Alastor looked close enough, he could also see darkened red outlines that could have been connected to a magical aura, much in the same way Lucifer’s magic occasionally had a gold outline when he was doing certain things or casting certain spells. 

Alastor didn’t have to look very far to find the culprit of this unexpected display. 

Standing just a few feet away from him, clad in some black pants and a red trench coat that did nothing to hide her checkered crop top, was Roo. 

No…was Eve. 

Her demonic appearance and less-than innocent nature never stopped her from being Eve, not to Lucifer. Alastor should follow that. 

“So it’s true then.” She was whispering, but Alastor still heard her as if she had screamed. When she turned, and her face was no longer hidden by the wide brim of her black hat, she had red tears leaking from her equally red eyes. Red eyes that were all for Lucifer; all for the friend she had just lost a second time. “Heaven actually did it. Heaven actually dared to do it.” 

“...yes, my Lady.” Alastor laughed sharply, his hysteria still woven into each forced exhale. “He had played by their rules, showed them unrestrained mercy, offered them undeserved forgiveness for their sins—and his reward was a blade to the chest.” 

Eve laughed along with him, shaking her head as she switched from gazing down at Lucifer to overlooking the battlefield. Even from his side view, Alastor could see her eyes light up with pure malicious intent every time she spotted an Archangel. It didn’t matter if it was Lucifer’s actual killer, or one of the useless brothers that let him be killed, they were all subjected to the same blame.

To the same hatred. 

“Well, if that’s the case…” Eve stopped laughing, mouth abruptly shifting to that of a vicious sneer that looked so out of place against her pretty features. Let it be said that even if Eve had gone through a little…physical modification…after eating the apple, she still had relatively soft features reminiscent of her time in The Garden of Eden. “I have a promise to uphold.” 

As she spoke, her right arm came up and her hand splayed itself out, all five clawed fingers spreading as far as they would go. Her blackened flesh glowed with a never ending flash of red magic as she called forth her powers, a sight that brought glorious panic to every Heavenly being Alastor could see. Even dear Vagatha looked scared of what Eve was about to do. 

Perfect. 

“Heaven will pay for what it’s done, Alastor. These cursed angels will pay for what they’ve done!” 

Eve slowly curled her fingers inwards, pulling the already tight thorny vines even tighter until there was nowhere else to pull the Heavenborn—well, besides the ground, that is. Once they were pressed so harshly into Hell’s earth, so harsh that the ground beneath them cracked, shadowy pools formed beneath them. They sucked their victims under, like the scarier, deadlier version of quicksand. 

Throughout it all, all of the Heavenborn struggled fruitlessly to free themselves. They seem wholly unconcerned with how their struggles only served to exacerbate their wounds, with many Exorcists and even some Seraphim going as far as to rip their own wings off their backs in their effort to pull themselves free. Alastor liked watching those ones best, since he knew how sensitive wings were thanks to Lucifer. 

It was delightful to witness, and much more delightful to hear the screams that erupted from each victim. Their terror was music to his ears, and their pain was a temporary balm to his torn heart. 

“But not now.” Eve turned back towards Alastor when at least half of her prisoners had been fully sucked into the pools beneath them. Though her sneer was still in place, Alastor didn’t feel threatened or offended by it. He knew where her anger truly lay. “For now, there are many preparations we must see to.”

“Wait!” There was something Alastor needed to know before he could let himself get distracted by avenging Lucifer. Especially since he knew he’d get lost in it for the first several years in an attempt to escape having to actually process his grief all the way through. “Y-you…you mentioned a…a..your promise. Does…does that…does that mean you…that you…?” 

“That I knew this would happen?” Eve’s sneer fell from her face. The expression that replaced it was hard to name, because the longing for her friend was obvious in her gaze, but it shared space with the blazing anger she still felt towards Heaven. It made for quite a spectacle (not that he’d say that out loud). “I knew it was a possibility, just as Lucifer did. That’s…that’s why he…argh. That’s why he woke me up in the first place. He…he needed someone to look out for you if he fell again. He needed to keep you safe.” 

Oh, Lucifer…

“And now that you are,” Eve’s gaze dropped to Lucifer’s body, the wide brim of her hat coming down to cover the top half of her face, “we need to be sure he’s properly avenged.” 

…yes…

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

“What’s our first step?”

∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾∾

“Lucifer is the only one who’s ever been able to create entire Rings.” 

…wait-

“That being said, he’s not the only one who’s able to manipulate the terrain of each one. The Sins also possess the power to do so, which will benefit us greatly here-”

“Pardon me for interrupting, Miss Eve.” Alastor sat back in his chair, ears pointed straight up as his cut-in earned him a raised brow from the only other occupant in the room. “But what does creating Rings have to do with avenging Lucifer? As it stands, Hell has already proven that its superior numbers have given it an advantage over Heaven’s forces. An advantage that’s only become more obvious with you rejoining our ranks. What need do we have for more space?” 

“It’s not about increasing space.” Eve rolled her eyes, a playful smile pulling at her lips. It wasn’t as sincere as Alastor assumed an expression of mischief would be, but he chalked that up to Lucifer’s death. 

Several things had happened following the end of the second war between Heaven and Hell. Things that interfered with the royal family’s ability to show anything that wasn’t overloaded with either numbness or grief. First was the actual death; that wound was still fresh for all of them. Then came the fact that his body literally turned to cosmic dust a couple of hours following Michael’s attack, something that Eve identified as God reclaiming what was left of his estranged son. And lastly, they were still in the process of planning his funeral. An event they now had to host without a body to properly mourn and honor. 

So…yeah…

Certain things were difficult to express these days.