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Lucifer POV
I felt my body tense as another surge of electricity ran through me. My muscles convulsed involuntarily, lingering after the current left my body.
Lately, these shocks had been multiplying over the past few hours, and I couldn’t help but wonder, What the hell was that TV-headed guy doing with my power?
I tried to take slow, shallow breaths, but the surges left me barely any time to inhale. The lack of oxygen made me dizzy, and dark spots crept into my vision.
I just hope Charlie isn’t still mad at me, I thought, gripping my muscles tight as I barely stifled a scream before another shock tore through me.
This is the sixth time in the last hour, I thought, searching my surroundings for any clue.
And then I saw it—a small screen projecting what looked like a cannon. The TV-headed guy grinned as he fired it like a child at play. That explained why I felt so drained—they were using my power to fuel it! My eyes darted to the restraints holding me: angelic iron. That explained the pain.
The downside of being an angel—even a fallen one—was that angelic iron didn’t kill me, but it could hurt.
“This is bad,” I gasped as warmth ran down my wrists. Blood. The iron must be draining my powers, reacting to my demonic side, burning like plunging my hands into boiling water. The chains heated, searing exposed skin.
Another surge, stronger this time, shot through me. I screamed. Pain blurred my vision, my life force ripped apart, my body hot and cold at once, my consciousness slipping.
It’s okay, I thought wearily, tilting forward. Just rest… I closed my eyes.
How much time had passed? I struggled to regain awareness. Where am I? Where’s Charlie? The temperature confused me—hot? Cold? Everything was jumbled.
I closed my eyes again, trying to organize my thoughts, when my body tensed. Before I could react, another shock struck.
Oh Father, have mercy, I clenched my teeth, and when it ended, I finally remembered everything: the fight with Charlie, the phone call, the trap set by the TV-headed guy. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
I opened my eyes. Nothing much had changed, except my hat lying in front of me, probably fallen while I was unconscious.
I looked up and saw Alastor on the screen, punishing the TV-headed guy.
“Ha!” I smiled weakly. “I guess you’re useful after all, buttons.”
Until the TV-headed guy called his shark pet, and Alastor began to lose the advantage.
Horror struck me as the cannon tore through the city. “No!” I yelled, another wave of pain shooting through me—not from electricity this time, but from breaking the punishment preventing me from harming sinners. My power, used whether I liked it or not, was inflicting damage.
“We have to do something, Eden,” I gasped, glancing at my hat.
Few knew my hat wasn’t ordinary; it was the crown of Hell. Sitting atop it was my oldest ally: a golden snake. Eden, one of my first creations from the Garden of Eden, had been faithful for centuries.
She woke, scanning her surroundings, then fixed her gaze on me, reproach in her eyes for the mess I’d gotten into.
“I know, I know,” I whispered with a soft smile. “Not my fault this time.”
Eden slithered off the crown toward the crystal, tapping it lightly with her tail.
“That won’t work, girl,” I sighed as more power drained from me. “It’s angelic,” I gasped. Another wave of pain coursed through me.
Father! The punishment is far worse than this machine’s pain.
“There’s a TV-headed guy with a god complex draining my power for his whims,” I explained to Eden. “We can’t let this continue,” I said, giving her a slight smile.
She flicked her tongue at me, displeasure clear. “Hey! Don’t be mad at me. I didn’t want this either—” I tried to reassure her.
Suddenly, the TV-headed guy began modifying the cannon, cables sprouting to connect directly to my body. Pain ripped through me like dozens of stabbing knives; I thought I saw blood. My life force and blood were fueling the machine. The King of Hell, reduced to a battery… pathetic.
Screens beeped around me, all flashing red: Overload. Not good.
“Eden, execute the emergency plan,” I gasped as more magic was stolen. My life was tied to my angelic powers. If he thought he could keep stealing, he was mistaken. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
Eden climbed the cables holding my feet, gliding up to my shoulder. I groaned, the machine and punishment working together to torment me.
Tears slipped down my face. Something warm brushed my cheek. Opening my eyes, I saw Eden rubbing against me, comforting me.
“Thank you, girl,” I whispered. “I know you hate this too.”
My powers were tied to me, literally to my life force. Only Eden could “kill” me, and even then, only temporarily, as she was a part of me.
“Listen carefully, Eden,” I said seriously. “Papa needs to rest so the TV guy doesn’t win.” She nudged me, offering solace. “There can only be one supreme evil here—and that’s me.”
Eden coiled around my neck, careful not to choke.
“There are demons trying to hurt Papa, but I need you to stay strong and keep me down until the danger passes,” I said, gritting my teeth as another wave of pain hit. “When you feel safe or someone arrives, you decide if you let me go.” She caressed me one last time before tightening again.
The machine, punishment, and wounds made pain unbearable. Oxygen loss amplified it. I stayed still as Eden constricted, cutting off air.
Black spots clouded my vision. My body relaxed; consciousness slipped.
I wonder if this is what dying feels like… at least it’s not painful, I thought with a faint smile, closing my eyes.
I hope Charlie finds me soon…
⸻
Alastor POV
I had to admit—things went better than I could have predicted. Both contracts restricting me were finally broken, leaving me a free sinner, my staff fully restored. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling my power surge for the first time in years.
Hell would tremble before me now.
I looked around, seeing Charlie helping that small angel to her feet, when suddenly Sir Pentious’s face appeared on a screen, confirming he was safe in Heaven, that redemption was possible.
Who would have guessed that sly little snake would reach Heaven? With Vox’s weapon destroyed and nothing threatening Hell, I glanced around, searching for the source of the weapon’s power.
Where was Lucifer?
I watched Charlie and her friends move away from the wreckage, probably heading back to the hotel.
During the fight, there had been a moment—a brief, telling pause—when the weapon had ceased functioning. I distinctly recalled Vox snarling about having to rely on emergency reserves. Curious. Had the King escaped while no one was looking?
I scanned the battlefield once more. No sign of him.
How unlike him… or perhaps exactly like him.
Allowing the shadows to swallow me, I made my way toward the last place I had seen the King of Hell.
It took a few seconds to reach the underground chamber. Darkness greeted me; the electricity was gone. I summoned small green flames, letting them float, illuminating the space just enough to reveal the trap containing the King.
And there he was.
Still suspended by chains.
So you never left after all, I mused silently as I approached. The glass that once encased him was fractured now—cracked, weakened. One solid blow would have shattered it completely.
Lucifer did not react to my presence.
“Sleeping while the fate of Hell hangs by a thread, Your Majesty?” I teased with a smile.
One second passed.
Then two.
Nothing.
How rude.
I summoned a flame in my palm to see him better. His body sagged too heavily forward; his head lolled limply.
“Come on, awake, Your Majesty~” I sang mockingly, tapping the glass. Still nothing.
No reaction.
The humor drained from me faster than I cared to admit.
Something cold settled in my chest as my eyes traced the cables embedded in his body, the scorch marks, the unmistakable streaks of golden blood staining his pristine white suit.
“Majesty?” Nothing.
“Luci?” Silence.
“Lu?” No response.
“Lucifer, this isn’t funny!” I shouted, but no response came.
“Damn it.”
I shattered the glass barrier with a sharp burst of power—and froze when I heard it.
A hiss.
I leapt back instinctively, flames flaring brighter as I scanned the source.
There—coiled tightly around Lucifer’s neck—was a serpent.
Golden.
Beautiful.
Deadly.
It was wrapped around him with terrifying precision, its grip so tight that the skin beneath had darkened to an ugly purple. One wrong move and it bared its fangs at me, warning clear.
“What in the—” I muttered, thoughts racing. Every attempt to draw closer was met with bared fangs, the creature ready to strike.
How long had he been like this?
Then my gaze fell to the floor.
His hat.
I picked it up, examining it closely—and realized what was missing.
The small decorative serpent.
“You… you’re his,” I whispered, eyes meeting hers. “You belong to Lucifer.”
The snake watched me closely, unblinking. Every time I moved closer, it bared its fangs, ready to strike.
I set the hat down. The snake hissed, coiling, guarding him.
“I’m not here to hurt him,” I said carefully, every instinct screaming that this was no time for theatrics. “I’m trying to help.”
She watched me—studying, measuring.
Seconds stretched unbearably.
Then, to my surprise, she gently brushed her head against Lucifer’s cheek, a strangely tender gesture.
I swallowed.
Carefully, I approached again. This time, she didn’t strike.
I suppose the serpent realized that I didn’t want to hurt Lucifer. I noticed that the angelic chains also seemed to be on the verge of breaking. It was a miracle they could still hold him.
I wonder if Lucifer’s power is so strong that it had weakened the angelic iron and crystal…
It only took a little of my energy to break the chains, and it was like cutting the strings of a puppet. Gravity pulled Lucifer’s body down, and I moved quickly to catch him in my arms before he crashed to the ground.
I laid him carefully on the ground and let his head rest on my lap. I took off my coat and draped it over him to protect him from the cold.
The serpent remained coiled, watching me closely.
“I’m not going to hurt him,” I said softly. “I swear.”
She relaxed—just slightly.
When I finally brushed my fingers against her scales, the world tilted.
Images flooded my mind.
Lucifer’s voice.
The plan.
The sacrifice.
Understanding hit me like a blow.
“So that’s why,” I whispered. “That’s why Vox had to use the reserves.”
I exhaled slowly, staring down at Lucifer’s pale face.
“You absolute fool,” I muttered, though the words lacked real bite. “Selfless to the point of stupidity.”
My eyes fixed on the serpent, or rather on Eden, as Lucifer had called it. “Eden,” I said softly, so as not to sound threatening. “I have no intention of harming Lucifer, now or ever.” The words that came out of my mouth surprised even me—they sounded so honest.
And then, after looking at Lucifer once more and realizing the deplorable state he was in—his skin pale as a ghost, blood seeping from his suit, and his hands blistered as if iron had burned them—I couldn’t help but think it was true…
I didn’t want to hurt Lucifer.
Not today.
Not tomorrow.
Possibly never.
Eden seemed pleased with my answer and slowly uncoiled herself from Lucifer’s neck. I watched as she climbed onto Lucifer’s chest, curling up, then lying down and closing her eyes as if she were waiting. And so we both waited until Lucifer awoke.
Just the three of us in the room, illuminated by my green flames.
I don’t know how long I sat there waiting, but at one point I began to stroke Lucifer’s hair while humming a tune from my childhood to fill the silence.
After a while, I felt a movement on my lap and looked down to see Lucifer staring at me.
“Al—” He couldn’t finish. His voice sounded terrible, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been like this, with Eden wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air supply.
What would have happened if I hadn’t noticed? How long would Lucifer have stayed there? Hours? Days? Weeks? Would anyone have noticed? Charlie didn’t seem to care that her father hadn’t appeared after the battle… did she care about him or me? I thought, remembering how she had left me behind to help her angel friend.
I noticed how Lucifer tried to form another word, but nothing came out. As if that was what he needed to break down completely. Tears formed in his eyes as he tried to look away and cover his face with his hands, but he barely had the strength. Perhaps he felt ashamed.
I sighed softly. “Mon ange,” I said gently, using one hand to wipe away one of his tears. “You don’t have to hide.” I heard his broken sobs escape, and the tears continued. “Not from me,” he finished with a kind smile.
I saw how Lucifer seemed surprised, then broke down further, sobs escaping in waves.
“It’s okay,” I said, stroking his hair gently. “Let it out, Mon ange. I’m here for you.”
And so, two demons who had been used and abandoned to their fate found comfort in each other’s arms…