Scene opens on a dusk-stained Mediterranean sky. Lucifer stands on a cliff above Rome, elbows resting on the parapet, wings folded behind him.
Lucifer
"Has there been any word from the Holy One?" he asked, his voice cool as twilight.
Michael, standing a pace behind him, simply pointed toward the west. "Enoch reported a faint flash of holy light just beyond the Seven Hills yesterday. It was so brief, barely a flicker."
Lucifer frowned. A flicker so weak that only Enoch's tools detected it? And to describe it as "brief and fleeting" seemed almost insulting—like Enoch had blinked and missed it.
"How does that prove He's angry?" Lucifer asked. "Did the light flash a message reading I'm furious?"
Michael cleared his throat softly and added, with airs of solemnity, "God vanished over a month ago. No word. If now He sends even a whisper of light… it must be a warning."
Lucifer curled his lips in a quiet, scornful smirk. He rose onto his toes and looked past the silent forest of cypress toward the Eastern Roman city across the sea.
"You understand nothing," he said.
At once, he vanished.
To reach the source of that light, Lucifer flew from Canaan over rugged mountains and across the wide Mediterranean. He aimed for the birthplace of an empire—Rome, by the Tiber River.
That Rome pulsed with life. Even now, after the great judgment, its streets burned bright with power and wealth. Horse-drawn carriages rolled over stone roads. Flames danced in temples. As dusk deepened, windows glowed in every villa and courtyard.
Lucifer folded his wings and glided low over rooftops. He drifted across temples and through crowded plazas, finally landing at the Tiber's broadest bend, just beyond the city walls.
He crouched barefoot on river stones, watching the water ripple under twilight. With a slow gesture, he traced a circle above the river's center. When his finger skimmed the surface, a mermaid surfaced.
She had golden hair, green scales damp with dew, and eyes like jade. She paused at the sight of Lucifer—startled.
"You are... Lord Lucifer?" she asked softly.
Even beyond Heaven and Hell, his name carried weight. Rumor told that he was once Heaven's beloved vice ruler, now cast out. He had broken the very order of worlds.
She shook off fear, intrigued by his presence. He was strikingly handsome—as radiant as the princes of distant seas—but his brow bore a crease of concern.
"You merfolk are wise—tell me, have you seen someone unusual here?" Lucifer asked, voice hesitating.
He stopped himself, uncertain how to describe the one he sought.
He'd never seen God's true form: only a gentle glow, a tender voice like wind in golden robes. He remembered, as a child in Eden, how God had saved him—a hand came from behind, pulling him from a terrifying fall into a rainbow river. When he turned, all he saw was a golden sleeve fading into mist.
Lucifer realized how little he truly knew.
The mermaid drifted nearer across calm water. "You asked about someone… special?"
Lucifer said, "Yes. Someone new, someone… gentle. Recently arrived."
At that, the mermaid thought for a long moment. Then she spoke: "There is a stranger who came to the Seven Hills' far side. You said special—I thought of him. And yes, gentle... I think that fits."
Lucifer's eyes snapped open. "Where is he? Does he wear white with gold embroidery?"
The mermaid pointed across the ribbon of water to a forest of five needle pines. "In that grove, there's a new manor. Two men live there. One of them... he has something very... pure about him. Flowers lean toward him. Birds hush when he passes."
At the mermaid's word pure, Lucifer sprang up, wings unfurling like midnight clouds.
"Thank you," he whispered—and vanished.
The mermaid watched his silhouette glide across the river and disappear over the pines. She swallowed nervously.
When Lucifer flew over the riverbank, everything changed.
Though it was autumn in Rome, here it felt like spring—if not Eden itself. The ground glowed with wildflowers. A stream branched from the Tiber and wound its way deep into the ancient trees. At sunset, its surface mirrored a sky full of stars.
Lucifer landed gently in the meadow. Butterflies, aroused by the light, fluttered around his ankles.
He recognized the sign of Heaven's hand. This was no coincidence—it was a sanctuary.
He'd searched all realms for God—and found nothing. Yet here, He hid, in a garden hidden by Earth.
Lucifer's smile widened.
He advanced along the stream toward the grove of pines under which stood a small, modest manor.
In front of the manor, the stream pooled into a clear pond. Frogs croaked softly from lily pads. A few fireflies sparkled in the dusk.
When Lucifer's finger brushed the ivy covering the gate, the vines retreated as if obeying him. The door swung open with a gentle groan.
A familiar pure energy flooded out.
Lucifer stopped, breath held.
Beyond the gate, a man stood in robes of pale gold that seemed to glow softly in the last rays of evening.
He was tall and composed, with wavy chestnut hair and clear, even features, as if molded from marble. His eyes were warm brown.
Lucifer's chest tightened. This was Him—God. Yet far different from what he'd imagined.
He felt the man's voice before it spoke.
The man hesitated: "Lu–"
Lucifer appeared before him in the blink of an eye.
"Holy One?" His voice trembled like a leaf in wind.
Then, as though he were a frightened child, he wrapped his arms around Him—though he, Lucifer, was taller. He clung to God's robe as if afraid to stand alone.
"You came here alone?" he whispered shakily. "Did You—leave Heaven because You were angry? Because of me?"
In his mind he wanted to ask more: Or because You were disappointed in us? In me? But he swallowed the words. He dreaded punishment, or being discarded again.
The once terrifying Lucifer now pressed his face into God's shoulder.
He trembled.
Moses stood inside the manor. He watched this strange reunion with conflicted feeling.
Fifteen centuries ago, when he first entered Heaven, Lucifer was already fully grown, radiant with God's favor. Angels said that if God had given the world a hundred parts of love, Lucifer claimed ninety. Even Michael treated him with reverence.
Yet now, this same Lucifer clung to God like a child, gripped by fear.
Moses took a step forward to say quietly: I'm not the one you seek.
But the gate creaked.
Lucifer turned abruptly.
Through the open door entered another figure: tall, in white, with long silver hair tied simply at the nape. His eyes were amber-clear, warm yet unreadable. In his arms, a tiny, white ferret—its eyes still closed, a soft cry escaping its lips.
He paused, taking in the scene: God standing in pale light, Lucifer clutching Him, Moses silent in the doorway.
Lucifer and Moses both held their breath.
The ferret chirped and bit gently at the man's finger. He smiled—soft, patient—and did not pull away.
Lucifer's heart pounded. Moses felt tears prick his eyes.
It was real. The Holy One had returned.
After so much waiting.
After so much sorrow.
Lucifer loosened his grip, head tilting upward, eyes wide.
God asked softly, "Why did You come here, Lucifer?"
Lucifer swallowed hard. After a long moment he answered, voice barely above a whisper:
"I had nowhere left to search."
That simple confession hung in the air.