Eons Later
The setting was a modern urban city shrouded in twilight. The city lights flickered like fireflies in the distance as cars honked and people bustled through the streets. High above, perched on the roof of a skyscraper, stood two celestial beings—Lucifer Morningstar and Amenadiel.
Lucifer, dressed impeccably in his signature dark suit, leaned against the ledge with his usual nonchalant elegance. His hands rested casually in his pockets, but his sharp gaze betrayed the weight of the news he was about to deliver. His devilish charm was overshadowed by a rare hint of concern, his jaw tightening for just a moment before he composed himself.
Amenadiel, towering and stoic, radiated a quiet intensity. Clad in a simple but refined coat, his posture was rigid, his arms crossed tightly against his chest as if bracing himself for whatever his brother was about to say. His brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched—subtle signs of both his suspicion and the unspoken bond he shared with Lucifer.
Lucifer's smirk faltered as he began. His voice, though smooth and laced with sarcasm as always, carried an undertone of gravity.
"Well, brother, you're not going to like this…" he drawled, shifting his weight slightly, his fingers brushing over the cool stone of the ledge.
Amenadiel's brow arched, his piercing gaze locking onto Lucifer's. "What have you done this time, Lucifer?" he asked, his voice low and measured, though the faintest flicker of exasperation danced in his eyes.
Lucifer chuckled dryly, his lips curling into a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, you wound me, Amenadiel. Always assuming the worst of me." He stepped closer, his movements smooth and deliberate, like a panther stalking through shadows.
Amenadiel didn't flinch, though his stance grew even more rigid. "Get to the point."
Lucifer's playful demeanor finally cracked. His smirk faded entirely, replaced by a rare expression of seriousness. His hands slipped from his pockets, and he turned to face Amenadiel fully, his usually sparkling eyes darkened with something akin to dread.
"They've escaped," Lucifer said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, the words weighted with unspoken consequences.
Amenadiel's eyes widened briefly before narrowing. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his arms dropped to his sides, fists clenching tightly.
"Who?" he demanded, his voice laced with both disbelief and urgency.
Lucifer took a step closer, his gaze unflinching, locking with Amenadiel's. The corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly, not in amusement, but in frustration. He exhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling in a rare display of vulnerability.
"Someone very bad, brother," Lucifer finally said, his tone grave. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping further. "Someone even I fear."
Lucifer and Amenadiel froze, the tension between them palpable as the sound of an elevator ding cut through the night's stillness. The subtle mechanical hum of the elevator doors opening seemed to echo unnaturally in the charged atmosphere. Both brothers turned slowly, their sharp senses instantly attuned to the intruder.
The figure that stepped out into the rooftop space moved with a deliberate grace, exuding an aura of mischief and danger. It was Sariel, their celestial sibling, his presence radiating both confidence and chaos. Dressed in a pristine white suit that contrasted starkly with the city's dim backdrop, Sariel's dark hair shimmered under the faint light. His face, a picture of angelic beauty, bore a smile that teetered on the edge of mockery and malice.
"Me," Sariel announced, his voice light and melodic but carrying an undercurrent of something far darker. His smile widened, almost predatory, as his sharp eyes flicked between Lucifer and Amenadiel. "And apparently… Mom."
The word hung in the air like a thunderclap. Lucifer's brow furrowed instantly, his lips parting slightly in disbelief. His usually sharp tongue was momentarily silenced as the implications of Sariel's statement sank in. His hands, which had hung loose moments ago, now curled into tight fists at his sides, the tension radiating through his frame.
Amenadiel took a step forward, his towering figure bristling with restrained fury. His wings, unseen but felt, seemed to shift in agitation. "Sariel," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "what have you done?"
Sariel tilted his head, his smile softening into something more playful but no less disconcerting. "Oh, come now, big brother. Don't be so quick to blame me." He placed a hand on his chest in mock innocence, his movements smooth and theatrical. "I've just returned to the party after eons away. It's not my fault Hell's gates are more of a revolving door these days."
Lucifer's voice returned, laced with his signature sarcasm but edged with genuine anger. "Sariel, if you think you can waltz in here, drop a bombshell like 'Mom is back,' and not explain yourself, you've been away far too long."
Sariel chuckled softly, the sound light but chilling. He stepped fully into the rooftop space, his hands spread in a gesture of mock surrender. "Relax, Lucifer. I'm not here to fight… yet." He paused, his smile curving into something sharper as his gaze locked onto Amenadiel. "But I do think it's my turn now. Things have been so boring without me, don't you agree?"
Amenadiel's jaw clenched, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the weight of Sariel's taunts. His fists tightened, his knuckles whitening, but he held his ground. "What do you mean, 'your turn'? What game are you playing, Sariel?"
Sariel's dark eyes gleamed with amusement, though a flicker of something darker danced behind them—malice, perhaps, or unspoken plans. He leaned casually against the elevator's metal frame, his movements effortless but deliberate, as if every step and gesture were calculated to provoke.
"I mean, dear brothers," Sariel said, his tone shifting to something almost conspiratorial, "it's my turn to stir the pot. To shake things up. Heaven, Hell, Earth—they've all been so stagnant. Don't you think it's time someone did something… fun?"
Lucifer took a step closer, his expression a mix of anger and curiosity. His sharp eyes narrowed as he studied Sariel's every movement, searching for the truth behind his cryptic words. "And what exactly does 'fun' mean to you, Sariel?"
Sariel's smile deepened, and for a moment, his expression softened—not with kindness, but with an almost childlike glee. "Oh, you'll see soon enough," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as his gaze flicked back to Amenadiel. "But let's just say, I'm not the only one with unfinished business. Mom has plans. And as for me..." He straightened, his smile vanishing for the first time as his golden eyes turned cold. "It's my turn to begin things."
The air around them grew heavy, crackling with an energy that seemed to hum with the promise of chaos. Lucifer's jaw tightened, and Amenadiel's usually serene expression hardened into a mask of grim resolve. Sariel's presence was like a storm cloud on the horizon, beautiful yet terrifying, and the two elder brothers knew they were standing on the precipice of something far bigger than they could anticipate.
Sariel turned back toward the elevator, his movements languid but purposeful. "See you soon, brothers," he called over his shoulder, his voice light again, almost sing-song. He stepped into the elevator, and as the doors slid shut, he gave them one last glance, his smile returning—brighter, sharper, and more dangerous than ever.