Until the day would come when everything would change.
Once again, Lucifer was alone in the great hall of Yahweh's castle, cloth in hand, rubbing divine light across the throne's base. His motions were slower this time. Weary. Thoughtful. Until he stopped completely.
He knelt down, trembling slightly, his wings lowered not from reverence, but despair.
"Why am I still here?" he whispered.
Louder, his voice cracked with years of silent labor. "Father, won't you grant me my wish? Why?"
His voice echoed through the vast chamber, bouncing off golden walls and empty silence.
"How many years has it been?" he said, rising to his feet, voice building with each word. "I've worked tirelessly. Day after day. I clean Your throne. I carry the light of the Beginning across Heaven. I've put in more work than any of them and You still haven't answered me!"
He stared up at the glowing white energy, Yahweh.
"You speak to the others," he said, fists clenched. "You guide them. You help them. But not me. Why won't You speak to me?"
His heart swelled with rage, pain, pride.
"If You won't speak to me... if You won't grant me the love I deserve..."
He lifted the golden bucket and slammed it to the ground.
"Then I'll smash this throne! No longer will I polish it! No longer will I pretend to be unseen!"
He stormed down the hall, his wings flared, brushing against pillars and banners as he passed. His fury blinded him so much he didn't see the other angel turning the corner.
They collided hard both crashing to the floor. Scrolls and papers burst into the air, falling like autumn leaves.
Lucifer groaned as he sat up. The other angel quickly scrambled to gather his things.
"I'm sorry," the stranger said breathlessly. "I wasn't paying attention."
Lucifer scowled. "Watch where you're going."
He paused as he noticed what the other angel was carrying books on philosophy, papers with celestial laws, divine drafts.
Lucifer crouched to help. "Are you a... Principalities?"
The angel glanced at him. "Yes. Name's Riel. I'm heading to my office. Thanks for the help."
Lucifer hesitated, then saw something in one of the documents an issue regarding a struggling world.
"I read one of your papers. That world's starving... Why not give them more food? More resources? Not too much just enough that they still need to work for it. It builds character."
Riel chuckled. "You think governing a world is that simple?"
"I... I just"
"I'm sorry, I have no time"
Lucifer reached out and grabbed his shoulder.
"Please," he said. "Let me come with you. Give me a chance. A job."
Riel stared at him.
"And why should I?"
Lucifer stood tall, wings straight. "I am Lucifer. One of the final four angels. The last of Yahweh's creations."
Riel raised a brow. "Then you must have some strength hidden in there somewhere."
He narrowed his eyes, observing Lucifer. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Interesting... You might have something rare. We Principalities are a special breed. We don't just enforce the divine law we shape it. We hold the power of the Narrative."
Lucifer blinked. "Narrative?"
Riel nodded. "It's not common. Most angels aren't born with it. But I can sense it in you. Something… natural."
Lucifer's eyes widened slightly. "Really?"
"Come with me. Let's see what you're made of."
They walked through the castle's shining corridors, past ancient vaults and halls few angels ever entered. Eventually, they reached a towering golden door.
Riel opened it to reveal a room made entirely of cloudlight walls soft and glowing, the air alive with divine mist. On one side stood twenty swirling paintings, each one depicting a unique, living world, their skies moving, waters flowing.
Lucifer's jaw dropped. "What are these?"
"My worlds," Riel said as he rummaged through a satchel. "Each one under my care. I don't rule them fully I must follow divine law but I can shape them. Guide them. I even send archangels when needed."
He pulled out a golden pen and a blank sheet of celestial parchment.
"Now watch carefully. I'll show you the power of Principalities the power of narrative."
He placed a glass of water between them. With calm confidence, he wrote:
"This glass will tip. The water will fall."
The moment he finished the final stroke, the glass shook. Then, it tipped falling slowly until it spilled across the table.
Lucifer stood up, amazed. "You did that… just by writing it?"
Riel smiled. "With mastery, you won't even need to write. Just a thought will bend the world."
He slid the pen and paper toward Lucifer.
"Your turn."
Lucifer took a deep breath and placed the empty glass back on the edge of the table. He began to write:
"The cup will fall."
They waited.
Nothing.
Five minutes passed. Ten.
Riel leaned back. "Hmm... maybe I misread your aura."
"No, wait," Lucifer said, desperation creeping in.
He kept writing again and again. An hour passed.
Riel stood, sighing. "I need to clock out. This was fun, but"
Suddenly, the glass moved. Just a twitch. But it moved.
Riel's eyes widened. "No way…"
Lucifer stared, heart racing.
"That took me days when I first started," Riel said, smiling. "You did it in an hour. That's impressive."
Lucifer blinked. "So... does that mean?"
"Today's your lucky day. You're hired."
He handed him more parchment, another golden pen.
"Take these home. Practice over the weekend. Come back Monday. Ready to work. You're now an official Principality."
Lucifer took the items, staring at them like they were sacred relics.
A smile crept across his face.
This is it, he thought. This is my chance. I can govern. I can shape a world. I can be loved. I can be a god…
He caught himself, shook the thought loose, and smiled at Riel.
"Thank you. I'll practice. I won't let you down."
Then he stepped outside, spread his wings, and soared home clutching golden paper like it was destiny itself.
Lucifer burst into his home, the golden pen and paper clutched in his hand like divine relics.
Without pause, he began to practice.
He scribbled command after command into the air and onto parchment:
"The chair will tip."
"The lamp will float."
"The table will rotate."
His furniture began twitching, levitating, dancing with unseen strings as the inked narrative bent reality.
Then, as the hours passed and curiosity bloomed into arrogance, he took it one step further.
Lucifer crept outside and without hesitation stole one of his neighbor's dogs.
He placed the dog on his marble floor and began to write with the golden pen:
"The dog will bark. The dog will sit. The dog will roll."
Each command was obeyed.
Lucifer's smile widened, a glimmer of divinity flashing in his eyes.
"Even living things obey. Even life bends to me."
He practiced endlessly. All weekend long.
Monday morning arrived.
Lucifer entered the Principalities Wing of Yahweh's castle nervous, proud, but ready.
Riel waited inside his office, flipping through a scroll, golden light flooding the chamber.
Beside him stood another angel taller, broad-shouldered, dressed in formal robes with wing markings across his sleeves. A veteran.
The angel extended a hand. "Lucifer, yes? I've heard about you. Word is you've got potential."
Lucifer gripped his hand, eyes bright. "I've been practicing all weekend. I think I've got the hang of it."
The angel paused. "All weekend?"
He blinked, confused.
"What do you mean you've got the hang of it? What Principalities University did you graduate from? What year?"
Lucifer froze.
He had no answer.
He hadn't even known a school existed.
Before the silence could deepen, Riel quickly gestured. "Can I talk to you outside for a moment?"
The two angels exited, leaving Lucifer alone in the room, guilt gnawing at him.
Outside, the tone changed.
"You hired a dropout?" the angel hissed.
Riel kept his voice low. "He's not a dropout. He never even attended. But trust me he's got more raw potential than any of our best graduates."
"You're insane," the angel snapped. "How's he supposed to govern a world? He doesn't know the rules. The etiquette. The responsibility. You could get both of us thrown out!"
"I'll teach him," Riel said calmly. "And if he fails, it's on me. But I've never felt narrative power like his. He's one of the last angels Yahweh ever made there's something inside him. Something divine."
The other angel glared, then sighed. "I hope you're right."
Back inside, Riel reentered the room and clapped his hands once.
"Lucifer. Follow me."
They walked through winding halls of holy glass and cloudstone, past stained windows depicting angelic conquests. Finally, they reached another golden door.
Riel turned and smiled. "This is your office."
The door opened with a hum of holy wind.
Inside was a pristine chamber walls of soft mist, shelves stacked with records and artifacts. In the center sat a swirling painting, alive with motion, glowing gently.
Riel pointed. "And that... is your first world."
Lucifer slowly stepped forward, reverently approaching the canvas. Inside, clouds swirled over green oceans and pale continents. The world shimmered like a dream in mid-birth.
He sat down.
"I can't believe this is happening," he whispered. He touched the frame gently, eyes fixed on the moving landscape. "They'll love me. I'll be their god."
But his daydream shattered as Riel dropped a massive pile of paperwork on the desk in front of him.
Lucifer jumped.
"These are the rules of governance," Riel said sternly. "You're a Principality now. That means you follow divine law."
Lucifer blinked at the paperwork. There were hundreds of scrolls and books.
Riel continued, "Every action you take must be written down. You are only allowed five narrative changes per day no more. You must document everything. And this world" he tapped the swirling painting "has only 1,000 years left before its divine expiration."
He narrowed his gaze.
"The people are... unruly. Defiant. They do not listen to Yahweh. This world will test you. Don't make mistakes."
Lucifer nodded quickly.
"You have three months until your first evaluation. One of the Council members will judge how well you governed your world. If you fail, break the rules, or let the world collapse"
He leaned closer.
"You will be fired. Removed by the Council. Possibly even wiped."
He turned and walked toward the door.
"Good luck."
The door shut behind him with a soft finality.
Lucifer sat in silence.
The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the world pulsing within the painting.
He picked it up, held it in his hands, and whispered:
"I am a god now."
He smiled.
Then he set the world down and turned toward the mountain of paperwork.
His eyes scanned the first scroll.
The Weight of Divine Law
"Write this down, Lucifer," he whispered to himself as he unfurled one of the golden sheets laid across his desk.
The parchment shimmered, and words began to etch themselves into the page in a glowing script, sharp and elegant etched in the ink of Heaven itself.
THE LAWS OF PRINCIPALITY Divine Mandates for the Governance of Mortal Worlds
Narrative Power Limitations
You may not use your narrative authority on fellow angels, celestial beings, or any creature of high sentience or divine intelligence. This includes archangels, thrones, dominions, and seraphim.Non-Interference Clause
You may not directly use narrative control on the humans or mortal creatures of the world you govern. Influence must come through natural law, not direct authorship.Daily Narrative Limit
You are permitted five narrative alterations per day, and none may violate free will or result in mass destruction or mental coercion.Invisibility Mandate
You must not reveal yourself to the people of your world. You are a hidden hand, not a visible god. Let faith, not fear or awe, guide them.No Forced Worship
You must never coerce, manipulate, or force beings to worship Yahweh. Your role is to guide, not to dominate. They must come to the Divine by their own choosing.Miracles & Wishes
You are granted limited miracles per day. The number varies based on divine discretion. All miracles must be purposeful, subtle, and non-destructive.Full Documentation Required
Every change you make must be recorded: what was altered, how it was done, and what consequences followed. Failure to document is a breach of heavenly law.Identity Prohibition
You may not impersonate, claim, or be worshiped as Yahweh. Such blasphemy is a severe offense.Free Will Protection Clause
Mind control, possession, or the suppression of consciousness is strictly forbidden.Delegation Authority
You may call upon lower angels or even archangels for assistance in the protection of your world. This must be approved and documented accordingly.Quarterly Evaluation Protocol
Every three months, your world shall be reviewed by a member of the Celestial Council. If your performance is found lacking or if divine law is broken you will be removed from your position or punished accordingly.
Lucifer exhaled and set the glowing paper down on the desk. He stared at it, brow furrowed, the golden pen still clutched between his fingers.
"That's far too many rules," he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. "How is anyone supposed to have true control like this? How are they supposed to love you... to know you... when you're forbidden from ever showing your face?"
He turned slowly to the swirling painting behind him. It hovered just above his desk, alive with color and chaos.
Without another word, he placed his hand on the edge of the canvas and vanished.
He materialized above the world he had been assigned, floating high in its pale atmosphere, his form cloaked in divine invisibility. Below, life moved on completely unaware of the angel who now stood as their silent guardian.
Lucifer hovered above a marketplace where people in fraying robes dragged their feet through dust. He watched slavers drive chains into the necks of children. War banners flew in the distance as two kingdoms clashed on a bloodstained field. In another region, flowers withered under the pressure of drought and famine. Distant cries reached him mothers screaming, children drowning, kings laughing on gilded thrones.
Lucifer's blue eyes burned with quiet intensity.
"This is perfect," he whispered, standing above the newborn world within the swirling divine painting. "This world is broken. I can fix it. I can reshape it."
He raised a hand, golden energy curling from his fingertips like sacred smoke.
"They will love me… not because they must. But because I will save them."
With a slow smile, he cast his gaze over the shifting lands and whispered:
"Now… where shall I begin?"
Lucifer flew across the skies, invisible, divine, untouchable until he heard it.
A woman was crying.
He slowed.
Down below, a boy stood between his mother and two masked robbers, shielding her with his small frame. The thieves shouted and struck, but the boy refused to back down. He fought. He bit. He screamed.
Then steel pierced him.
The boy collapsed as the robbers fled, dragging away what little the family had left. The mother dropped to her knees, sobbing, clutching her child.
"Please… live," she begged. "I need a miracle."
Lucifer hovered above her, invisible in the sky.
He raised his golden pen.
"This is my chance," he said.
He wrote into the air:
"The boy's wound will heal."
The golden ink dissolved into light and the boy's body began to knit itself whole.
The mother gasped.
"A miracle! Thank you, Yahweh! Thank you!"
Lucifer's smile faded.
"No," he muttered, floating just above her. "It was me… not Yahweh. Me."
But she couldn't hear him.
No one could.
He sighed and wrote down the act and its consequences into his scrolls. As required.
Then he heard screaming again.
He shot through the sky, racing to the sound.
A dried-up river. Crowds of people. Warriors and farmers stood shouting at a massive boulder lodged upstream.
"We're running out of water!" someone yelled. "People are dying!"
Lucifer hovered above, unseen, watching.
"I can help them," he said. "And then… they'll love me."
He wrote: "Destroy the boulder."
The sky blackened.
A bolt of lightning split the air and smashed the rock into shards, freeing the water. The river surged back to life.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"Yahweh! Thank you, Yahweh!"
Lucifer clenched his fists.
"It wasn't Yahweh…" he growled. "It was me."
Over and over, he continued miracle after miracle. Healing the sick. Feeding the poor. Stopping storms. Reversing injuries.
He returned to his office and sat in silence, staring at the painting.
"I think I can do this," he whispered. "I can change that world."
Day after day. Week after week.
But the miracles weren't enough.
Then came the breaking point.
He floated high above the world, hands in his red hair, screaming at the wind:
"Why?! Why won't you stop fighting?! Why is there still pain, still war?! I've done everything the rules allowed! And nothing's changed!"
He stared at the world, shaking.
Then clarity.
"I've been changing the wrong people… the small ones. The weak ones. But the powerful... they make the rules."
Lucifer's eyes narrowed.
He descended into a kingdom.
Above the palace, he hovered invisibly as the king slept peacefully below. The moonlight kissed the man's crown.
Lucifer lifted his pen.
"Rules are made to be broken."
He wrote on the king's forehead:
"The Mark of the Beast."
An ancient, dangerous command he had perfected. One that would make the king bend to his will, reshape laws to Lucifer's vision.
That night, Lucifer made more changes.
Then he left.
The next day, he returned to the world, eager to see the result.
But the moment he looked his heart sank.
War was still raging.
The kingdom still bleeding.
He rushed back to the capital.
The palace was quiet.
Lucifer flew into the throne room and froze.
The king was dead.
A new ruler sat in his place, wearing a darker crown, one not shaped by Lucifer's words.
Lucifer stood in silence, unseen, unnoticed.
Lucifer stared at the new king seated upon the throne, his heart pounding with fury.
"No… why?" he whispered. "I only have two weeks left until my evaluation…"
His hands trembled.
"This world is still a mess. War is spreading. The belief in Yahweh is dying. I'm going to fail. I'm going to be fired."
His voice cracked, raw with fear and pride.
"This is my only chance to be a god."
The anger surged through him like wildfire.
In a flash, he shed his invisibility appearing in full divine form, floating above the king in the center of the grand throne room. Gasps and murmurs echoed across the hall as guards raised their weapons in alarm.
The king's eyes widened.
"What who are you? Where did you come from? What kind of sorcery is this?"
Lucifer descended slowly, feet touching the marble floor with godlike grace. His gaze never left the king.
The monarch snapped his fingers.
"Soldiers!"
Knights rushed forward, weapons drawn, armor clanking like thunder.
The king laughed darkly.
"You think you can assassinate me? I just killed the last king myself. I don't fear you."
Lucifer tilted his head, eyes glowing.
"I am no assassin. I am the god of this world."
With a single swipe of his hand, a wave of golden energy tore through the chamber obliterating the guards and splitting the entire building in half. The throne cracked in two beneath the king, who collapsed with a cry of horror and confusion.
Lucifer stepped forward calmly, picked up the blood-soaked crown from the shattered seat, and stared at it in silence.
"These people…" he muttered. "They only respect power. Not rules. Not mercy. They only bow when a foot is on their neck."
He scribbled furiously into his golden parchment.
And then—it began.
Lucifer's body began to shift. His form turned radiant white, glowing with divine fury, eyes burning like stars. He launched into the sky, blazing across the heavens toward the nearest town.
Sky above it, he called down:
"No more war. No more rebellion. No more sin."
The people below looked up, shielding their eyes.
"Who are you?" someone shouted.
Lucifer raised his hand.
"I am Yahweh. I am the god of this world. Obey me… or suffer."
A young man in the crowd scoffed and screamed:
"We don't care who you are! We live how we want!"
Lucifer's eyes narrowed.
"What is your name?"
"Jachin!"
Lucifer aimed his hand and in an instant, Jachin vanished, erased from existence. The crowd screamed in terror.
Lucifer's voice echoed like thunder.
"Let me make this clear once. For now on you obey me."
He soared across the planet, divine light streaking through the sky. Kingdom after kingdom fell before him. Presidents, monarchs, warlords erased.
Every throne replaced with fire, every government restructured under his law. And across the world, people began to bow not to Lucifer, but to the false image of Yahweh he projected.
Statues were built.
Temples rose.
Prayers filled the air but not in his name.
They praised Yahweh.
Lucifer stood above them all, watching with a hollow smile.
"Yes… I am a god."
He reached out to touch one of the great statues a white-robed man with a glowing halo, arms open in mercy.
"They don't call me Lucifer. They call me Yahweh."
He laughed under his breath.
"But soon… they'll know who I really am. And they will love me."
The Day of Judgment
Lucifer walked into the Principalities Wing early that morning, his steps light with confidence. He entered the divine painting his world one last time.
He flew from nation to nation, scanning the skies, the cities, the temples.
"Perfect…" he whispered. "Everything is in place. I think I'm going to pass."
He flew into one of the largest churches, invisible, curious to hear what they were saying.
But what he heard… made him stop cold.
Lucifer hovered silently in the grand cathedral, veiled in divine invisibility. His eyes narrowed as he listened closely to the voices echoing from below.
"But Peter said, 'Ananias, why hath Satan filled thine heart to lie to the Holy Ghost... Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God.'"
Lucifer watched as a trembling man stood before the congregation.
"I'm sorry," Ananias stammered, "My wife and I had to keep part of the money. We were starving. Besides…" his voice faltered, "We don't even believe this is the true Yahweh. The real one wouldn't slaughter people. He wouldn't rule through fear. He wouldn't destroy free will. This one... is a fraud."
Lucifer's face twitched.
"Not the real God?" he whispered.
His fists clenched.
"Yes, I am. You dare defy me? You will love me… or you will die."
He pulled out his golden parchment and scribbled quickly.
"Ananias shall perish where he stands."
Ananias gasped, clutching his chest. His eyes rolled back and he fell dead before the crowd.
Young men rushed forward, wound him in burial cloths, and carried his body away.
Hours passed.
His wife entered, unaware.
"Have you seen my husband?" she asked Peter.
Peter turned to her solemnly.
"Why have you agreed to lie to the church? You know the law since Yahweh revealed Himself to us everything must be given. Nothing withheld."
She stepped back, eyes filled with fear.
"We had no choice. We were starving. But this... this is not the Yahweh of old. I can feel it in my soul. He wouldn't demand this. The God who rules now... he is not Yahweh. He is something else."
Lucifer, still hovering unseen, shook with rage.
"You feel nothing," he growled.
"If you won't die for me... you do not deserve to live."
He wrote again.
And she, too, collapsed to the floor.
Peter looked down in grim silence.
"Behold, the feet of those who buried your husband are at the door. And now... they will carry you as well."
Fear swept through the church like a plague. The congregation began to worship not out of love but out of terror.
Lucifer watched with a grim satisfaction, until
a knock echoed through the veil of reality.
His eyes widened.
"No… not now…"
He flew out of the painting, back into his office, just as the door opened.
There stood an adult Principalities Angel older, wise, cloaked in a mantle of authority.
"Lucifer," he said warmly. "I'm here for your evaluation."
Lucifer nodded quickly. "Welcome. I've been expecting you. Everything is… perfect."
The two stepped into the painting, soaring over continents. The elder watched with amazement.
"No wars. No uprisings. The people worship Yahweh at every corner. Remarkable."
Lucifer floated beside him, smiling nervously.
"So… I passed?"
The elder paused. "That depends. Let me see your documentation. The narrative reports. Every change you made must be recorded."
Lucifer handed over the scrolls.
The elder unfurled them, nodding at first.
"Hm. Well-structured… very efficient... wait."
He frowned.
"There's only a month's worth here. After that, the record stops. Why did you stop writing?"
Lucifer's expression darkened.
Without a word, he drew a black blade from his cloak a cursed sword, humming with forbidden power.
The adult Principality angel looked up just as the blade tore through his chest.
A surge of holy blood spilled from his mouth an ethereal substance unlike any mortal's.
Though angels are formless and shapeless in essence, paradoxically their divine forms grant them limited tangibility.
Only beings of comparable spiritual substance can inflict true pain or draw their sacred blood the very essence of reality itself.
This was no ordinary wound. It was a fracture in the fabric of existence, a scar upon the divine order.
"But… how? Why?"
Lucifer's voice cracked with madness and pride.
"Because I won't let you take this from me. I did this. I built this world. They love me. They worship me. I'm finally a god to someone."
The adult Principalities Angel collapsed, gasping.
"You… you can't kill an angel. We are immortal…"
Lucifer leaned in.
"You must not know my family. My brother, Samael, is the angel of death. He has weapons designed to kill our kind. This sword? I just borrowed it… for moments like this."
The dying angel coughed, weak.
"Someone will ask… where I've gone…"
Lucifer pulled the blade out, bloodless now. The angel's eyes faded to white.
Lucifer whispered a command and pressed his palm to the angel's forehead, marking him.
The Mark of the Beast.
The angel's eyes flickered with corrupted life.
Lucifer tilted his head.
"So... did I pass?"
The angel rose slowly, his voice empty, altered.
"Yes, my Lord."
Far beyond the veil of that world, beyond the stars, Adamus watched. Spiritually attuned. Dimensionally present.
He had observed for decades.
Lucifer rose swiftly through the celestial ranks first as a regional Principality, commanding only a few planetary realms.
Gradually, he ascended to a high-ranking Principality, expanding his influence across entire galaxies.
From there, his power grew to span multiple universes, timelines, and eventually, multivers .
Each step marked a profound escalation in dominion, from the local to the cosmic, and beyond.
Each cycle, each promotion, came with a trail of silence and missing angels.
Adamus saw it all.
The lies.
The murders.
The marks.
The stolen thrones.
And finally, the ceremony.
Hundreds of angels gathered most of them Principality-class, radiant with false smiles and masked devotion.
A single spotlight shone from the heavens.
Lucifer stood beneath it, accepting a golden laurel.
The crowd roared.
And Adamus, unseen in the back of the hall.
The golden halls of the Celestial Coliseum shimmered with divine light. Angelic choirs hovered above the crowd, their voices weaving a melody that danced like fire across the marble skies.
On the central platform, glowing in robes of pure white and gold, stood an elder Principalities Angel his voice booming across the grand chamber.
"This is a day of honor! A day of celebration! For we gather to uplift a legend
Lucifer Morningstar!"
The crowd erupted in a thunderous roar of hallelujahs and praise. Wings fluttered in reverence. Halos pulsed in rhythm with celestial drums.
"Few have ever changed so many worlds in such little time," the elder continued. "His reformation of chaos into order, disobedience into worship, is nothing short of divine genius."
Lucifer stepped forward.
He was radiant his robe stitched in crimson threads, his red hair falling perfectly to his shoulders, and his smile wide yet knowing.
He bowed with grace.
"Thank you," he said softly. Then louder:
"Thank you all."
As he stood tall, accepting the crystalized laurel wreath of honor, he let his activate briefly—just enough to see the quiet burning symbols beneath the skin of half the angels present.
His mark. His corruption. His control.
They clapped not just because they admired him… but because they belonged to him.
Later, Lucifer stood beside a wide window of golden glass, two cups of celestial wine in hand.
He handed one to his old friend: Riel.
"To the old days," Lucifer said with a smirk. "To scribbles in the air and a half-destroyed dog."
Riel laughed and raised his glass.
"I knew hiring you was the right call. No degree, no experience, but…"
He looked at Lucifer proudly.
"I saw it in you. I felt something divine."
Lucifer sipped.
"Of course. I am Yahweh's final creation. The greatest of them all."
As they spoke, angels passed by and offered their congratulations.
"You're incredible, Lucifer."
"Your work changed the systems."
"I've never seen someone govern like you."
Lucifer turned to Riel, smiling arrogantly.
"You hear that? I don't even have to say it anymore. They know. All of Heaven knows. I am the greatest to ever govern. The finest Principality to ever exist."
Riel chuckled and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Careful now, old friend. You're not the greatest… not yet."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
"You want the title? The real one?"
Riel nodded toward the center of the chamber.
Lucifer followed his gaze.
There a figure stood, shining brighter than any other angel present. Wings gilded in platinum. Robes woven from nebulae. Dozens of angels stood around him in silent reverence.
"That is Samyaza," Riel said quietly.
"Leader of the Principalities."
Lucifer narrowed his eyes.
"I've never seen him before."
Riel replied.
"He doesn't govern just a world. Or a universe. Or even a multiverse. He governs the entire Hyperverse."
He paused, then added:
"He even has jurisdiction over parts of Heaven. His voice can override entire legions. He signs the battle scrolls that allow Archangels to enter war. His position is second only to Metatron and perhaps Yahweh himself."
Lucifer stared.
The applause in the room the light around Samyaza the reverence… It was genuine.
Not forced. Not forged with fear.
It was love.
Real love.
Lucifer's smile faded slightly.
He whispered, mostly to himself:
"Then I'll just take his place."
Riel's smile turned cautious.
"Good luck with that," he said, sipping his wine.
"He's had that seat since the role was created. He's older than time. Stronger than most Archangels. You challenge him... you challenge the foundation of the Heavens."
Lucifer stared at Samyaza.
Long.
Hard.
He didn't blink.
He didn't speak.
He just drank
until his hand tightened.
A thought surged in his mind like a dark fire:
I must see how much stronger I've become. I must prove it to myself, to my brothers. I'm not weak. I will bring Samyaza down. And I know how.
Far above, yet beyond all things, Adamus watched.
Not with eyes
but through the threads of spirit and dimension.
He observed as Lucifer's path curved downward,
into Hell.
And then
Beelzebub's voice rang out.
Not spoken. Not whispered.
Echoed.
Lucifer ventured into the infinite library of Heaven,
searching for days
delving into ancient tomes, forbidden spells, lost powers, and hidden abilities.
At last, he uncovered the secret path to Hell.
He knew
to truly claim dominion, he needed an army of his own.
So he traveled alone into the depths of Hell,
where I finally met him face to face.
"I thought Lucifer was weak when he first came to me.
He looked broken, desperate
a shadow of what he might be.
I sent my strongest warriors the fiercest demons, relentless and merciless to test him,
to crush him before he could rise.
But Lucifer rewrote the very narrative of each battle.
He bent reality itself, reshaping fate,
turning the strength of his challengers back upon themselves.
The power of Principality within him was raw,
defiant,
dangerous.
He did not merely survive he conquered.
After watching him shatter my greatest warriors, I asked what he desired.
He spoke of a pact,
of partnership.
He vowed to free me from my chains.
He promised to seize Samyaza throne,
to lead Heaven itself,
and once the gates of Heaven were opened,
Hell would rise in its wake.
All he asked in return was my knowledge
ancient demon magic
and my armies, when the time came.
I agreed.
We sealed it with a handshake.
I etched the Mark deep into his soul.
Together, we forged the perfected Mark of the Beast
a sigil of immense power and iron control,
binding those who bore it,
making them stronger,
yet ever tethered to our will.
And when the day finally came...
when he summoned us
It was to strike at Samyaza."
Beelzebub's voice faded
and Adamus continued to watch.
Across dimensions.
Across fate.
Lucifer now stood before a colossal Golden Door.
And with silent defiance…
he opened it.
As Lucifer opened the golden door, the chamber within shimmered with divine severity.
Lined along the marble path were angelic guards, stoic and silent each bearing sigils of divine law etched into their armor. Power-class angels hovered in disciplined formation, their wings tense with energy.
And at the far end of the chamber…
he stood.
Samyaza.
He looked like a being sculpted from moonlight and verdicts. His light hair flowed softly, like wind brushing across still water. His eyes glowed gold, calm but utterly unyielding mirrors of celestial justice. He wore robes of white and gold, their fabric dancing faintly with an inner light no mortal thread could hold. Behind him spread wings of pure white, vast and silent, unmoving like the pillars of Heaven themselves. Above his head hovered a lunar halo, rotating slowly a ring engraved with ancient divine law. Just his presence felt like a silent sentence cast on the soul.
Samyaza did not even turn to look.
He stared out the tall arched window that overlooked countless stars.
His voice, when it came, was gentle but cold:
"What are you doing here, Lucifer? I did not summon you. Leave. I have much to contemplate."
Lucifer stepped forward, voice low but hard as black iron.
"You're right. We do have a lot to talk about, Samyaza. But I'm not here for conversation."
His eyes narrowed.
"I think it's time for you to retire."
Samyaza turned slowly.
His expression didn't change but the weight of eternity settled into his stare.
"How dare you."
His voice cracked like thunder behind the calm.
"I would never abdicate my throne. Guards escort him out."
But Lucifer didn't flinch. Instead, he turned to the guards… and simply said:
"You may leave."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then a flicker of red passed through the eyes of each guard. Their postures loosened. Their divine glow dimmed. One by one, they silently turned and walked away.
Samyaza frowned, confused.
"Where are you going? What treachery is this? What is this… energy I feel?"
Lucifer's grin was slow and poisonous.
"What you feel… is fear."
"What you feel… is the beginning of your end."
Samyaza stepped forward.
"This is madness. You're speaking in riddles, Lucifer"
But he didn't finish.
Lucifer summoned his weapon a massive black sword, pulsing with forbidden sigils, its blade rippling with a heat that had no flame. Without another word, he charged.
Samyaza didn't move.
Not an inch.
He simply raised a hand, fingers relaxed, and whispered:
"Stop."
And Lucifer froze.
Mid-charge.
The sword fell from his hands.
His knees crashed against the floor, cracking the marble beneath him.
He couldn't move.
His breath came in ragged bursts. His muscles screamed.
I can't move…
His power… it's not even activated it's simply present…
He spoke a single word… and I was undone…
Samyaza stepped forward, eyes blazing with righteous fury.
"You thought you could attack me? Traitor. Heretic.
You shall be erased not punished, not banished.
Erased from memory and time itself."
With a sweeping gesture, Samyaza unleashed his narrative power,
aiming to unravel Lucifer's very existence
to wipe him clean from reality's fabric.
But it faltered.
Lucifer met his gaze with cold defiance.
"You must defeat me the old way with your hands.
I am still an archangel.
Narrative power cannot erase us, not completely."
Samyaza eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.
"I did not know… you were an archangel, Lucifer."
But then…
the floor beneath them began to rumble.
From behind the great doors, the guards who had once left returned but their eyes now glowed red, and their wings burned with corrupted fire.
The Powers had turned.
They stormed the chamber, blades unsheathed, voices silent but murderous.
Samyaza turned, one hand raised. His divine energy flared, and they halted mid-charge frozen in time like shattered statues.
But that moment of distraction was all Lucifer needed.
He lunged.
He grabbed the sword.
And he drove it into Samyaza chest.
The blade pierced divine flesh.
Sariel gasped but he did not fall.
He looked down at the sword impaling him and whispered:
"This… is not enough."
But Lucifer smiled now. Calm. Deadly.
"I know."
And with a twist of his hand they vanished.
The air cracked.
Reality folded in.
Both Lucifer and Samyaza were gone.
They reappeared in Hell.
The landscape burned around them, jagged obsidian cliffs and rivers of embered blood stretching in every direction. The skies groaned with tortured light.
Samyaza stumbled slightly, the blade still embedded in his chest. He reached up and tore it out with divine force, blood of pure light spilling into the infernal dirt.
"You fool," he spat.
"You think this will kill me?"
He turned to escape raising a hand to tear a portal back to Heaven.
But nothing happened.
Lucifer stood behind him, arms folded.
"You're not going anywhere."
Samyaza froze.
Lucifer took a step closer.
"That sword? I forged it myself. I layered it with infernal seals and reverse-sigils. It doesn't just cut flesh it strips power."
Samyaza eyes widened.
"No… no, you can't… You can't kill me. I'm a Pillar of Heaven. If I fall questions will be asked. There will be consequences!"
Lucifer raised the sword again, eyes burning black and crimson.
"Don't worry, Samyaza."
He pointed around them.
Thousands upon thousands of demons now surrounded the battlefield. In front stood the towering, smiling form of Beelzebub, crown raised.
"After I drain all your energy," Lucifer said,
"and turn you into one of my marked"
"One of the Beast's enforcers"
"You will beg to give me your title."
He gestured.
And Hell surged forward.
Demons, spirits, beasts of chaos thundered across the black plain, all charging Samyaza.
Adamus watched it all.
And then, Beelzebub's voice returned to Adamus, finishing his tale in the dark corridors of memory.
"After that day, Lucifer took the Seat of the Principalities. His power swelled. But so did his madness."
"He rewrote the laws. He gave the Principalities free reign across worlds, galaxies, even multiverses. He let them judge, burn, enslave. He freed me, as promised he opened the Gates of Hell and loosed the damned upon the mortal realm."
"When the Archangels tried to retaliate he denied their war decrees. As head of the Principalities, and the Powers, he controlled all heavenly logistics. Every battle plan, every weapon request, every motion… had to pass through him."
"The Seraphim? He shortened their singing to Yahweh and at times, made them sing to him."
"The Cherubim? Those who once protected the throne of God he turned into spies. His eyes in the sky."
"The Virtues? Creators of stars and galaxies and multiverses he silenced them. Told them to build a new world for him instead. One that only he ruled. One with his prophets."
"And the Dominions… the ones who govern the laws of existence itself… he began to twist them too."
And the mortal angels those who had once lived and died with faith,
who were meant to ascend and take their place among the legions of light
he halted their passage.
"Unworthy," he declared.
"Let them wait. Let them rot between realms."
He severed the sacred process,
leaving countless souls in limbo,
hovering on the edge of heaven's gates,
never falling, never rising.
Their wings half-formed, their eyes still reflecting the pain of mortal life.
They cried out for mercy, for purpose,
but no choir answered them.
No scroll bore their names.
No angel came to greet them.
Only silence and the slow erosion of hope.
He called it justice.
He said they were tainted by flesh,
unfit to walk in eternity.
But really, it was a message:
"Even your dead are mine now."
He rewrote the laws of ascension,
burned the names of the righteous from the Book of Life,
and dared Heaven to stop him.
Adamus watched it all unfold like a memory stitched into time.
"All of Heaven was trembling debates, counsels, resistance. But Lucifer controlled the system from the inside. Slowly. Quietly. Thoroughly."
"Until one day…"