Lucifer took another slow sip of his drink, golden eyes flicking lazily across the battlefield.
The fight itself? Unremarkable.
The mindless golden automaton was exactly that—mindless. It fought with precision but no passion, with force but no creativity.
Boring.
The only real entertainment came from Maze.
Lucifer smirked as he heard her laughter, sharp and exhilarated, cutting through the noise. She was having fun, leaping through the battlefield with effortless grace, slicing at the metal monster just to see if she could make it flinch.
He reclined slightly against the hood of the car, completely at ease as humans panicked and warriors struggled.
Then his gaze landed on Thor.
Lucifer watched as the prince stood his ground against the armor—not with fists, not with weapons, but with words.
Oh?
That was new.
He could see it in the way Thor held himself now—there was no arrogance in his stance, none of that thunderous bravado that so often plagued the Aesir.
Just quiet conviction.
And, for a fleeting moment, the golden armor hesitated.
Lucifer's brow arched, intrigued.
The control behind that soulless mask was faltering.
For a second, it almost looked as if the golden armor would retreat.
And then it struck.
Thor was sent flying, his body collapsing onto the dirt with an impact that made half the humans cry out.
Lucifer let out a hiss of sympathy, but otherwise, did not move.
Because while everyone else rushed toward the fallen prince—
Lucifer was watching the sky.
Something else had stirred.
Something distant.
Something fast.
The weight of an old power, rushing toward them, drawn like a lover to a lost embrace.
The hammer.
Lucifer's golden gaze sharpened, a slow smirk curling at his lips as he followed the streaking light approaching from the horizon.
"Ah," he murmured, swirling his drink idly.
"Now, this is interesting," he murmurs, enthralled. Not by the battle, which had been a predictable display of power and theatrics.
Not by the Destruction, which was dull without real stakes.
No, what had truly captivated him—what had earned his full attention—was the sheer dramatic absurdity of it all.
The fallen prince, apparently stripped of his power, proving his worth through self-sacrifice.
The silent moment of death, the despair in his friends' eyes.
The glorious resurrection, as the lost hammer returned to its master.
And then. Then came the kiss.
Lucifer perked up, watching with interest as Thor—now fully restored, golden, and radiant with power—leaned down and kissed one of the young women before departing.
Lucifer grinned, swirling his drink.
"Oh, delightful," he muttered. "A hero's kiss before riding off into battle—classic."
The soaked-in-romance farewell, the lingering gazes, the dramatic departure into the stormy skies—It was all so wonderfully over-the-top.
And Lucifer was invested.
He stayed where he was even as the agents rushed to help civilians and secure the area, even as the chaos of the battle settled into something more manageable.
He should have helped by now, should have done something useful—But instead, he was looking up, squinting at the sky.
His golden eyes followed Thor's trajectory, sensing the flow of energy as the prince made his way back to Asgard alongside his companions.
From what Lucifer could tell, he was heading for the Guardian of the Rainbow Bridge, who was half frosted now.
"Ah," he murmured to himself, piecing it together.
Thor was going to defrost Heimdall, but realized he didn't have enough time for this if he wanted to stop whoever he wanted to stop. He left his friends to help the Guardian and carry him to heal.
How wonderfully melodramatic.
Just as he was about to take another sip of scotch, Maze appeared at his side, Coulson in tow.
She stopped, hands on her hips, brow furrowed.
"...What the hell are you doing?" she asked.
Lucifer, without looking away from the sky, lifted a hand and waved vaguely.
"Shhh," he murmured, still watching.
Maze blinked. "Excuse me?"
Lucifer finally turned his attention back to her, sighing dramatically.
"I'm watching the drama unfold," he said smoothly. "It's a bit slow-going at the moment, though—Thor's left his friends behind to go help the weakened Guardian of the Rainbow Bridge."
Maze stared at him.
Coulson did, too.
Lucifer took another sip of his drink.
Maze pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Let me get this straight," she said. "You sat here, doing nothing, while the humans ran around in circles trying to help—because you were watching Thor's soap opera?"
Lucifer smiled brightly.
"Well, when you put it like that…"
Maze groaned.
Coulson, to his credit, merely adjusted his tie.
And Lucifer? Well, he wanted to help.
Really, he did.
But he also didn't want to stop watching.
And so, he did what any rational celestial being would do and continued watching while casually surrounding the town in a healing aura, ensuring that every human who had suffered injuries in the last hour would be miraculously restored.
Effortlessly. Barely a thought.
Coulson was still standing beside him, arms crossed, watching Lucifer with mild suspicion.
Lucifer, barely glancing away from the sky, waved a hand lazily.
"Before you start another one of your interrogations, Agent Coulson—yes, I'm helping. Every human within this little town's borders will find themselves conveniently healed in the next few minutes. No need for applause, but I do accept gifts in the form of excellent whiskey."
Coulson blinked. Paused. Then exhaled through his nose. "You really are… something else."
Lucifer smirked at finally making him emote. "Why, thank you."
Then, without missing a beat, he turned back toward Maze, who was still watching him with an expression that said she was both exasperated and mildly impressed.
"Now," Lucifer said, swirling his glass, "where was I?"
"You were narrating Thor's Telenovela," Maze deadpanned.
"Ah, yes!" Lucifer grinned. "Well, unfortunately, I missed a scene while explaining my altruism to our dear Agent Coulson. But—"
His golden eyes flickered upward, toward Asgard, sharpening. Immediately, he caught something interesting.
A man in green, stepping onto the Bifrost, opening the portal.
Lucifer hummed in mild intrigue as he squinted at seeing the power that the bridge possessed. Casually, he commented, "Oh. That looks like enough power to destroy a world."
Coulson stiffened.
"...What?"
Lucifer tilted his head, observing the swirling energy of the Bifrost, tracking where its destructive force was pointed.
He snapped his fingers in realization, not caring if he scared others with his sudden action.
"Ah," he mused, sipping his drink. "Jotunheim. That's where it's aimed."
Coulson was already reaching for his earpiece.
Lucifer smirked as he stood perched at the edge of the car, a glass of scotch in hand, eyes gleaming with fascination. His amusement was palpable, practically radiating as he observed the unfolding drama before him, leaning slightly toward Maze and Coulson—who, though clearly perplexed, remained nearby, as they too had begun to sense the tension.
The fight was escalating, and Lucifer was in his element.
"Ah, here we go," he said, almost breathlessly. "Look at that—Thor finally came. He and the green-dressed man are now fighting. They seem to know each other. Old friends, I suppose? I cannot tell, but there's chemistry between them. A little bit of friendly competition if I had to guess."
Maze raised an eyebrow at him. "That doesn't sound like friendly competition."
"I meant that there seemed to be some friendly competition in their interaction. Or something deeper." Lucifer smirked, taking another sip of his drink. "After all, Thor looks so utterly distraught—he's just eating it up. I love when the drama gets messy."
Thor's emotion was palpable. The hesitation, the tension, as he exchanged powerful blows with the man in green, whose attacks were almost as calculated as they were personal. Lucifer grinned, watching the exchange with vicious delight.
When Thor seemed to land a blow, knocking the green man down, and then proceeded to destroy the bridge—Lucifer's eyes widened in pure ecstasy.
"Oh, yes," he muttered. "This is the good stuff."
He was completely enthralled in the moment, narrating the chaos as if he were a spectator at the grandest of tragedies.
"The bridge that can travel between worlds—completely obliterated by Thor to stop Jotunheim's destruction, causing an explosion that can be felt from here. Such a beautiful catastrophe," Lucifer said, his voice almost reverent. "And look! It's like they're all falling now... oh, the drama. The sheer drama."
Maze was rolling her eyes, but there was no stopping Lucifer now.
Then, as the fall began, a figure appeared on horseback.
Lucifer's gaze sharpened. "Aha! There's Odin, riding in to save the day with his majestic steed—how quaint. Look at that, grabbing Thor's ankle like he's some child in need of rescuing."
Maze snorted, but Lucifer continued without missing a beat.
"And just as I expected—Thor grabs onto the scepter the green man is holding. Can't quite resist making it more tragic, can we?" He chuckled, thoroughly entertained. "I bet Odin doesn't approve of the whole saving Jotunheim thing... but what's that? The green man is yelling something to Odin. Oh-ho, that's rich."
The tension was palpable now, and Lucifer could practically taste the frustration and raw emotion in the air.
Odin's response, though, was far more final than Lucifer had imagined.
"And there it is," Lucifer said, smiling grimly. "Odin's response seems to have crushed the poor green fellow—mentally, emotionally, probably physically too. And now Thor is yelling at him, isn't he? A fitting finale."
Lucifer leaned forward, his focus entirely on the unfolding scene.
"But wait..." Lucifer's voice dropped in surprise. "There it is, the moment I was waiting for."
Thor's face—it was pure distraught sorrow, a mirror of all the broken relationships in the world. His voice was loud, full of pain, as he screamed toward the green man, whose hand slowly, reluctantly, released the scepter.
The moment Thor let go, the pain was evident, and Lucifer's eyes flickered. Why did it hurt so much?
Maze noticed, her earlier teasing fading as she now focused on him. "What's going on with you, Lucifer?"
Lucifer's fingers curled around the rim of his glass, watching intently.
"Oh," he muttered under his breath.
As the green man finally let go of the scepter, and Thor stood desperate, Lucifer's face twisted in annoyance.
"Of course."
He let out a low groan.
"Thor's father is the green man's father as well," he added with disgust, realizing the family dynamics at play. "An incestuous knot—I should have known. The green man is simply Thor's brother, bound by the same family drama."
Maze raised an eyebrow, her amusement shifting to curiosity. "You know that for sure?"
"Not yet," Lucifer snapped. "But I can feel it. The same sense of loss, the same need to belong from the green man." He paused, looking more frustrated than ever. "Also, it's quite obvious he's a Jotun, so most likely adopted by Odin. Considering his need to destroy Jotunheim and the color of his skin hidden by a glamor, he probably recently found out about it. Thor is too busy with his internal drama to see what's right in front of him, though—family. It's all so predictable."
Maze smirked, tilting her head. "You still love the drama, though, don't you?"
Lucifer sighed, running a hand through his hair as he watched the emotional breakdown unfold in front of him.
"No one does it quite like these aliens." He smiled, watching the figures in the distance. "Not quite like them at all."
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