The one they called the devil walked through a vast desert that stretched endlessly into the horizon. The sun would have burned an ordinary human alive—without protection, their skin might blister, burn, even melt. Yet Lucifer had no qualms with the heat.
He had no complaints about the deep, warm orange sand or the gentle dunes scattered with small, dark patches of stone. He simply walked across them all with a calm face.
Several rocky hills and small mountains rose from the desert floor, their dark, jagged surfaces contrasting sharply with the smooth dunes around them. The sky above was partly cloudy, soft white streaks drifting across a pale blue backdrop, the sun fully visible whenever Lucifer cared to look up.
It was a beautiful day, in its own way.
As the devil walked through the desert and its scorching heat, hours and hours passed. The clouds thickened and slid across the sun. The sun sank, lower and lower, until it was gone and replaced by the moon and the stars.
