I'm The Devil

Lucifer walked down the empty street, leaving Ivy behind like a shadow fading into morning. His steps were silent against cracked concrete, neon reflections trailing across puddles of old rainwater. The city around him buzzed with distant traffic and muffled voices behind apartment windows. He didn't care where he was going. His mind felt quiet for the first time in eons.

He turned down an alley, stepping over broken glass and an old syringe, the scent of piss and mildew curling in the stale night air. At the end of the alley stood an abandoned building. Its windows were boarded up with rusted metal sheets, and graffiti covered the concrete walls in angry colours. Lucifer pushed the rusted door open and stepped inside.

The building was empty. The floor was littered with scraps of paper, burned-out cigarettes, and torn insulation spilling from the walls like old guts. The roof creaked with every breeze. He walked across the room to a broken window and leaned against the frame, staring out at the sleeping city.

Then he felt it.

A presence. Heavy and bright, like a blade pressing against his skin. It cut through the rot and silence with suffocating familiarity.

Lucifer sighed softly, his shoulders slumping. "Why don't you people ever let me have my peace," he murmured.

He turned around slowly.

Standing by the entrance was a man who looked just like him. Same tall frame. Same black hair falling across his forehead in messy waves. Same black eyes that swallowed light instead of reflecting it. The only difference was in their posture—Lucifer slouched with indifference, while the newcomer stood straight with military stillness.

Michael.

His brother.

"Hello, brother," Michael said, his voice smooth and calm. "Back from Father knows where… and already playing Him again."

Lucifer rolled his eyes, pushing off the window frame. "Spare me."

Michael stepped forward, his boots crunching over the debris-covered floor. "You've been gone a long time. Father was almost ready to replace you."

"He should've." Lucifer moved to an old table and sat down on it, swinging one leg idly. "Would've saved everyone the trouble."

Michael ignored the comment. "We have a mission."

Lucifer smirked faintly. "Of course you do."

Michael folded his arms across his chest, watching his brother with cold eyes. "That thing that followed you from the outerverse… it needs to be stopped."

Lucifer tilted his head slightly. "Outerverse… so that's what you're calling it now?"

"Don't act ignorant," Michael snapped. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Lucifer chuckled softly. "I do. I just don't care."

Michael's jaw clenched. "Father has given us the task. He wants it removed before it devours this reality from the inside out."

"Father." Lucifer spat the word out like something bitter. "Of course it's Father."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "Don't start."

Lucifer looked up at the rotting ceiling, running his tongue over his teeth. "The last time I did something for the sake of His world," he said quietly, "I got trapped in the outerverse for longer than any of you can count. I'm not repeating the same mistake."

"This isn't about you," Michael said sharply. "This is about the lives here. The humans. The creation Father entrusted us with."

Lucifer laughed softly, the sound empty. "Humans… always humans. Little clay dolls screaming prayers into the dark, begging for meaning from gods who never listen."

Michael stepped closer, their identical faces only inches apart now. "You may not care, but He does."

Lucifer looked into his brother's eyes. "Does He really?"

Michael didn't flinch. "Yes."

Silence fell between them, thick and heavy with old wounds. A rat scurried across the floor behind them, squeaking softly before disappearing into a hole in the drywall.

Lucifer shook his head, black hair falling over his eyes. "I'm done, Michael. Done fighting for a world that never wanted me. Done serving a Father who discarded me like broken glass."

"You think this is about your feelings?" Michael snapped. "This is about existence itself."

Lucifer raised a brow. "And what do you expect me to do? Fight it? Seal it away again? Burn it from reality?"

"Yes," Michael said simply.

Lucifer scoffed. "Then do it yourself."

"I can't."

Lucifer smirked darkly. "Of course you can't. You never could."

Michael's jaw tightened. "Don't push me, Lucifer."

Lucifer stood, stepping off the table until they were nose to nose. "Or what? You'll smite me here in this rotting ruin? Go ahead."

Michael didn't move. Didn't blink. His expression remained cold and empty. "You've changed."

Lucifer tilted his head. "No. I've just stopped pretending."

Michael exhaled slowly, his breath steady despite the rage simmering behind his eyes. "Father is giving you a chance to redeem yourself."

Lucifer's laughter was sharp this time, echoing off the moulding walls. "Redemption. That's rich."

"It's the truth," Michael said. "Help us, and you'll be allowed back."

Lucifer's smile faded. He looked down at his brother, eyes dark and empty. "I don't want to go back."

Michael frowned. "Then what do you want?"

Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the wind slip through the broken windows and ruffle his hair.

"Nothing," he said softly. "Absolutely nothing."

Michael stared at him, the flickering shadows making their identical faces blur and blend. "You'd really let this world burn?"

Lucifer looked up at him, black eyes gleaming under the neon glow slipping through the window. "It's not my world to save."

Michael's hands clenched at his sides. "Then why come back?"

Lucifer shrugged. "Because it's not my prison anymore."

Silence fell again. The city outside buzzed with distant sirens and a barking dog. The two brothers stood facing each other, mirror images of black hair, black eyes, pale skin, and weary souls.

Finally, Michael stepped back. "If you won't help, then stay out of our way."

Lucifer tilted his head. "Our?"

Michael turned to leave, his coat brushing against broken wood. "Gabriel is here too. Raphael will arrive by morning. We're sealing it tonight."

Lucifer chuckled softly. "Good luck."

Michael paused at the doorway, glancing back once. "You could've been so much more."

Lucifer smiled faintly, his eyes empty. "I was."

Then Michael left, disappearing into the darkness beyond the broken door. Lucifer listened to his footsteps fade down the alleyway until all that remained was the silent hum of the city.

He turned back to the broken window, watching the flickering lights ripple across the skyline.

Somewhere out there, something was waiting. Watching. Breathing. And his brothers would try to stop it with their righteous swords and divine orders.

Lucifer closed his eyes and leaned against the window frame, feeling the rot and cold soak into his bones.

"Let them try," he whispered to no one.

Outside, the wind carried the scent of rain. Somewhere far away, thunder rumbled low and long, like something vast and hungry waking up for the first time.

And Lucifer smiled in the dark.