38: Book of Lucifer (1)

Part VII: Book of Lucifer

Freedom is living in a world with you in it. —Lucifer

Memory Fragment I:

When did Lucifer first fall for Michael?

Lucifer would sometimes wonder. But he could no longer remember. Or perhaps he didn’t want to remember.

Because when it came to that question in Michael’s heart of whom did Lucifer truly love, Lucifer himself didn’t even wanted to to face it head-on, didn’t want to respond.

When Michael still lived in Heaven, still called by the divine race as “Michael of red and white roses,” Lucifer had already known that Michael possessed a beauty that could bewilder even men. Even just counting the ones he knew, there were seven or eight already coveting that beauty.

And they weren’t wrong. Even someone like him, who had read countless people, couldn’t help but steal an extra glance each time he met those eyes: beautiful eyes that shone overly innocent because Michael’s excessive righteousness was too pure. When someone like that chases after you so relentlessly for so long, no one can stay completely unmoved.

But the reason he came to love him wasn’t nearly as complicated.

Because whenever he tried to answer, “Why do I love him?”, Lucifer’s mind would conjure his smile in the sunlight.

When Michael leans into his chest, smiling like that, calling his name—“Lucifer, Lucifer…”

In that moment, he’d only want to give Michael everything.

Compared to those who agonize over a question, men are truly simple creatures.

One expression. One moment.

And the answer that would defeat a lifetime of defenses—was suddenly clear.

Memory Fragment II:

What happens after death? It’s a question every living being is curious about.

Before Lucifer became the Sovereign of Demons, the Demon Realm had once circulated a terrifying myth:

Because the Creator God had a pair of sea-blue eyes, He would punish all species who dwelled in darkness. So, at the moment a demon took their last breath, everything in their vision would turn bluish-gray, and this color would remain with them until their soul vanished.

Modern Demon Realm scholars scoffed at this.

From a biological standpoint, it was true that dying demons perceived the world in bluish-gray, but it had nothing to do with God.

In Heaven, death is declared when the heart stops beating. But in the Demon Realm, death begins when the brain ceases activity. The demon race possessed a unique system—the dark spinal cord—which supported their extraordinary physicality and strength. Even after the heart stopped, this system could keep them alive for up to forty-eight more hours. Hence, the angelic slang, “Demons are bastards with wolf-hearts who live on even after switching theirs out,” was not only a slur but also a backhanded acknowledgment of their staggering survivability.

However, due to lack of blood from the heart, the dark spinal cord would go into disarray, pressing on brain tissue, impairing vision and left-brain function. That’s why dying demons experienced temporary “color-blindness”, why everything turned bluish-gray.

As for the myth about divine punishment, Lucifer once publicly declared:

“When children in Heaven ask, ‘Mom, why do flowers bloom?’ Angel mothers say, ‘Because God makes them bloom.’ When they ask, ‘Why do we eat food?’ The mothers reply, ‘Because God made our bodies that way.’ In short, as long as it exceeds their knowledge, they invoke God’s name, and suddenly it becomes the right answer. If Heaven has ceased to evolve, or even regressed. it’s thanks to this sacred ignorance.

So when a child of Heaven asks, ‘Why do demons see blue-gray before they die?’ I suppose the mother’s answer will sound exactly like your idiotic myth. Are you just like them? The less you know, the more you believe.”

From then on, the rumor quietly faded.

And the ethos of the jungle, of liberty and defiance, began to take root in the Demon Realm.

That year, when Lucifer delivered that brilliant speech, he never imagined:

One day, he too would see the world in bluish-gray.

Nor that what would finally drive him into agony… was again that same pair of sea-blue eyes.

Memory Fragment III:

After Michael was slain at the Gates of Heaven, nearly five thousand years had passed. And to Lucifer, each day had been a lifetime.

He waited endlessly for Judgment Day. Until one afternoon, he opened the window of Pandemonium and saw a Caprid riding alongside Mammon.

The Caprid had deep red hair. Other than being slightly thinner than his kind, he was unremarkable.

If not for the fact that he was riding Mammon’s most beloved steed, Lucifer would never have given him a glance.

But when their eyes met, even though Lucifer maintained a detached demeanor, he still couldn’t recover for a long time.

Those eyes were sea-blue. Like a sky that could drown you, like an ocean holding sorrow that spanned over thousands of Berduth.

That was the greatest mistake of Lucifer’s life.

He had already resolved to bury the world for Michael.

Only to realize that Michael was still alive.

He was alive.

Lucifer had cradled a soulless corpse for five thousand years, despair burning him to ashes—and this was how it ended.

Michael hadn’t changed. He could still so effortlessly toy with Lucifer’s heart, even unintentionally.

That night, Lucifer thought about many things. Like what now?

The two swords buried deep beneath the Demon Realm could no longer be drawn.

He still faced a 50% chance of a world apocalypse, and a 100% chance of the world’s destruction.

At last, he settled on two possible paths:

One, let Michael remain in the body of the Caprid. Gamble the entire universe on one final chance—if the world ended, at least they’d die together.

Two, rekindle their past relationship. Enjoy their final moments together. Then draw the swords himself, and exchange his life for Michael’s guaranteed survival.

Both were viable. He leaned toward the second.

After all, if Michael was alive, then their children’s survival had greater meaning.

That night, he did not lie with the beautiful corpse of the red-haired angel.

Instead, he found Michael’s residence in the Demon Realm, cast a sleep spell to deepen his slumber, then walked to his bedside.

Michael seemed to be having a sorrowful dream, murmuring through tears. Lucifer frowned tightly, aching to gather him into his arms.

But all he could do was gently brush away the hair on Michael’s forehead, straighten the twisted collar of his nightclothes. Then, by the light of the moon, he gazed long at the face of his lover.

Then one and only beloved of his entire life… was breathing.

Michael had a heartbeat. Breath.

It took Lucifer a long, long time to realize this reality.

But in choosing between life and death, about what to do with the two swords, he needed less than a second.

The simplest solution:

Since Michael is alive, then Lucifer would die by himself.

He would go alone to draw the swords. And he would not renew his bonds with Michael.

After so many years embracing a cold body, he had almost forgotten how burning Michael’s essence truly was.

This man would never survive alone as long as they were in love.

No—he had to make Michael hate him absolutely.

Better yet, make him forget.

Because after he died, the excess love of Original Sin would only make Michael lonelier than before.

So how do you make someone hate you completely?

Start with betrayal.

He deliberately chose Sidis, someone with a temperament the opposite of Michael’s, so that self-important Archangel would finally stop thinking Sidis was just a substitute.

Then, he had to show no sign of affection, not even a sliver of it.

Otherwise, that shameless Michael might even tolerate him having however many side flings.

So he burned Michael’s corpse in public.

But he let the interruption happen. Deliberately.

He left the door open for Michael to rush in and retrieve the Archangel’s body.

When Mammon lost control and confronted him, Lucifer did see the shock and wounded sorrow on Michael’s face.

But he played the part anyway.

That moment when the fire soared and ashes scattered, he and Michael locked eyes across the chaos.

Half of him hoped Michael would hurry and retrieve the body.

The other half, deep inside him, selfishly hoped it would burn.

Because if that happened, then Michael would stay in the Demon Realm, and walk with him into the end of the world.

Then he wouldn’t have to face death alone.

But that was only a fleeting thought.

He owed Michael too much already.

He couldn’t give him happiness.

Then the very least he could give him—was life.

Memory Fragment IV

Sidis told Lucifer he had a habit of clenching his teeth in his sleep.

Lucifer was puzzled. He had never clenched his teeth before.

He asked when it started, and realized it began after he learned Michael was still alive.

Sidis warned that it wasn’t healthy. Demonic muscle strength was enormous, even jaw muscles. If it continued, he could damage his jawbone.

Lucifer dismissed it.

Until the day Michael returned to his original body, spread his wings and flew out of the Demon Realm.

For five thousand years, he had only been able to sleep by holding Michael.

He had tirelessly cared for that lifeless body as if it still breathed.

He lived off their memories, enduring that final stretch of time.

That dependence had long become a habit, one nearly impossible to break.

He was the Sovereign of Demons, not an addicted coward. He could abandon a habit. Easily.

But then, one morning, Sidis picked up a few white hairs from his room, and said, “Your Majesty Lucifer, you really can’t overexert yourself anymore…”

Lucifer took the strands and smiled, tiredly.

Death didn’t frighten him.

But until that day came, he wanted to keep holding Michael.

Even if it was only his body.

Even if it was just a strand of his hair.

But Michael left, just like that.