The city was quiet now.
No thunder. No howling monster. Just the patter of rain over broken streets. Flas hissed as water ate them down to smoke. The humans who’d survived huddled in alleys, eyes wide, whispering about the light that had swallowed the sky.
Lucifer stood in the middle of it all, coat heavy with rain, crimson eyes gleaming faint against the dim. He didn’t look at the mortals. Didn’t care. His gaze moved slow across the rooftop where Cain and Mabel still lingered.
They looked back at him, tense.
Lucifer’s lips curled into sothing almost playful, but his tone cut sharp.
"Scram. Family business."
Cain’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He grabbed Mabel’s hand, and in the blink of an eye, they blurred away, vamp-speeding across rooftops until the rain swallowed them.
Lucifer finally turned. His gaze landed on Michael, broken but standing now, sword flickering weak in his grip. Uriel and Raphael were dragging themselves from the rubble, Azrael leaned against the spire, bloodied but upright.
Lucifer let the silence stretch before he spoke.
"We’ve got a score to settle, brother."
Michael frowned, forcing strength back into his voice. "What score?"
Lucifer’s eyes shifted, glowing blood-red, the smirk dying from his face.
"You pushed into the bloody Outverse, you bastard."
Before Michael could answer, Lucifer moved. One step—and then a blur. His fist connected with Michael’s jaw, cracking thunder louder than the storm had been. Michael flew backward, smashing through the half-collapsed cathedral wall, stone exploding into dust.
Uriel’s eyes widened. "Lucifer—stop—"
She didn’t finish. Lucifer spun, palm snapping upward. A wave of crimson force shoved her down into the crater before she could even rise. The ground split under her.
Raphael lunged, red shard blazing. He swung, but Lucifer caught his wrist mid-strike, twisted, and headbutted him hard enough to drop him. Raphael hit the rubble, coughing blood, his shard slipping from his grip.
Azrael, calm even now, stepped forward. "Lucifer—"
Lucifer’s wings flared, black and red, tearing the rain apart. "Stay out of it. This is between and him."
Michael pushed from the wreckage, blood running down his face, sword humming weak sparks. His wings snapped wide, storm gathering again around him. He glared at Lucifer with fire that hadn’t dimd, even through broken ribs.
"You always bla others for your fall," Michael said, voice hard.
Lucifer laughed—a raw sound. "Fall? Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t fall. I was thrown. And you—" his eyes burned hotter, "—you were the hand that pushed."
Michael lifted his blade. "Then co and bleed for it."
Lucifer didn’t hesitate. He shot forward, faster than lightning, his fist a blur. Michael blocked with his sword, sparks and thunder bursting as steel t flesh charged with crimson fire. The impact tore the roof apart, shockwaves rippling through the streets below, rattling broken windows.
They clashed again. And again.
Michael’s sword flashed arcs of lightning, carving across Lucifer’s shoulder, blood spraying bright. Lucifer barely flinched. He twisted, his knee smashing into Michael’s gut, forcing the breath from him.
Michael staggered back, but his wings carried him high, storm gathering above. He thrust his blade upward, lightning spearing down, hundreds of bolts raining onto Lucifer.
Lucifer raised a hand. Crimson fire erupted from his palm, swirling into a do that drank the lightning like water. The storm bent toward him, pulled into his aura until it exploded outward in a blast of red energy.
The shockwave hurled Michael across the sky. He caught himself midair, blade raised, eyes blazing with fury.
Uriel crawled from the crater, shouting, "Stop this madness!"
Lucifer glanced at her mid-clash. His smile returned—dark, sharp. "Madness? This is clarity."
He vanished, reappearing right in Michael’s face. His fist slamd into Michael’s chest, sending him crashing into a skyscraper. The tower groaned, split, and collapsed, fire and dust raining into the streets.
Raphael staggered back to his feet, wings torn. He picked up his shard and roared, charging Lucifer. Azrael joined him, his white shard flaring faint.
Lucifer turned, eyes wild. "I told you—stay out of it!"
He swung his arm. Shadows lashed out like whips, striking Raphael across the face, breaking his jaw. Another lash caught Azrael, pinning him to the ground, shard clattering from his hand.
Uriel tried again, wings flaring, her shard glowing with frost. She hurled it toward Lucifer. Ice erupted, coating his legs, locking him in place for an instant.
Michael took that chance. He shot from the rubble of the fallen tower, sword blazing with thunder. He drove the blade straight into Lucifer’s chest.
The strike split the rain with light, blood spraying as the blade pierced deep.
Lucifer grinned, teeth crimson. "That all you got?"
His hand shot out, grabbing the blade, shoving it deeper into his own chest until the lightning flickered out. His fist swung again, hamring Michael across the face, breaking his nose, blood flying.
Michael hit the ground hard, sword slipping from his grip.
Lucifer landed slow, pulling the blade from his own chest, blood running down his body, glowing faint with red fire. He tossed the sword back at Michael’s feet like garbage.
"You never understood ," Lucifer said, voice low, eyes burning. "And you never will."
Uriel scread his na. Raphael tried to rise again. Azrael strained against the shadows pinning him.
Lucifer spread his wings wide, crimson light spilling across the broken city. His aura shook the earth, cracked the sky.
And Michael, broken and bloodied, forced himself up once more. His face was battered, his wings torn, but he stood. He picked up his sword, trembling but steady.
Light shimred back into the broken sky, soft but heavy, and their Father’s voice rolled through the ruins like calm thunder.
"Enough, children. I leave for monts, and already you’re tearing each other apart. Tell —what would you do if I truly stepped down?"
The words cut through the silence.
Uriel’s breath caught. She looked up, dread in her eyes. "Father... what do you an by that?"
Lucifer didn’t take his eyes off Michael. His fist lowered, blood still dripping from his knuckles. He let out a low laugh, sharp and bitter.
"You heard him," he said, finally turning his glare into a smirk. "The old man’s talking about retiring. Which ans one of us—" his eyes flicked across his siblings, then burned red as they locked on Michael, "—has to be God."
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