38: Book of Lucifer (2)

Memory Fragment Five:

Lucifer’s body had recovered considerably, but the final days were near.

He cut his hair short. It made him feel lighter somehow. So, on a sleepless night, he went alone to the Red Sea Abyss.

The clouds in the abyss were like waves of the desolate ocean, drowning the stars in night. Lucifer stood at the cliff’s edge on the shattered island, cold air wrapping around him like a burning, indifferent lone wolf. For thousands of millennia, he had never truly felt the loneliness of a Sovereign. But now, it condensed in his chest, silently spreading.

Time was running out. He wanted to see that person again. Just once more. To hold him again. To kiss him again.

“Lucifer! I challenge you!”

He turned in disbelief at the voice—and sure enough, Michael stood behind him.

He didn’t let the surprise linger on his face. It didn’t take much to understand—Michael had been watching his every move. So he replied flatly, “You challenge me. And then what?”

“If I defeat you, you’ll come back to me.”

That left Lucifer momentarily stunned.

Some things never change. No matter how many years passed, this child’s reckless nature remained the same. Michael, you’ve aged in body, yet you still loved like a child, how do you love so straightforwardly with zero emotional intelligence. Lucifer scoffed.

“Those two things aren’t even related.”

“You loved the Creator because he was strong. If I defeat you, then you’ll love me too.”

Michael likely didn’t realize how much those words hurt. How deeply they tested Lucifer’s self-control. But restraint had always been one of his strengths.

He turned away, facing the night sky as dark and bottomless as a black hole. “You can’t beat me.”

“I’m the Archangel Commander too. I’m not weaker than you. Last time I lost my wings here because you ambushed me. We’re fighting fair this time.”

“It’s pointless. There’s no need to fight.”

No matter how many times you challenge me, my feelings for you won’t change.

I just won’t ever tell you.

“Why not?” Michael suddenly grew agitated. “Why? Is it because I only have one life?”

Lucifer ignored him and turned his back, hoping he’d give up. But then a powerful gust surged—Lucifer saw the shadow leaping toward him, and quickly spun around to intercept it.

Michael was attacking him.

Lucifer drew a hexagram into the air with his bare hand. His short black hair fluttered like blades of grass in the dark wind. He pointed at the ground—whirrr—the hexagram expanded and spun, rising like a wall of frost to block the attack. Michael slashed at it with his sword, carving a gaping hole in the barrier.

Lucifer launched a dark magic blast straight at his chest. The spell landed fast and hard, hurling Michael dozens of meters through the air.

But he rose again, wings flaring.

Lucifer struck him again. This time, Michael crashed to the ground, skidding across the rocks, his back slamming into the cliff wall.

He coughed. But true to his archangel body, he pushed up again, sword drawn, charging back.

Round after round—twenty-three in total—Lucifer remained unmoved, uninjured. But Michael was covered in blood, coughing into his palm, ash and soot clinging to his wings and face, golden feathers scattered everywhere.

Lucifer’s voice was cold:

“Michael. You’re no match for me. Keep going and you’ll die.”

“I’m not afraid!!” Michael shouted stubbornly, but the strain made him cough up blood as he leaned against a boulder.

“You forget that you can’t reincarnate. If you die, your soul vanishes completely.”

“I’m not afraid!!! I… cough cough…” Michael’s eyes reddened. “You know what I am. You know why I exist. I’m not God—I don’t even have a complete soul. I’m merely God’s Original Sin.”

Lucifer’s whole body flinched. But said nothing.

Michael’s voice lowered. His gaze was unwavering. “If I can’t have your love, then there’s no point in living.”

The words planted something in Lucifer’s chest—something rotting and blooming all at once, a fruit overflowing and dripping with sorrow.

Even so, he kept fighting him off, again and again.

He listened as Michael yelled that he must defeat him, that he would defeat him—only to be thrown down each time.

By the end, Michael couldn’t rise. He dragged himself to Lucifer’s feet, grasping his hem, his pale, bruised face tilted upward.

“Lucifer… tell me. If I defeated you tonight… would you love me then? If I were stronger than the Creator—would you love me then? Or is it because I only have this one life, and you think I’m not worthy of you…? That’s not my fault. I wish I were whole too… I’ve tried… I really, really tried to be enough… I… I’ve been trying this whole time. But I can’t become God. I’ve done my best… You must hate me, right? Hate me… for not knowing my place…”

And with those words, Michael’s hand slipped away. He lost consciousness.

Lucifer dropped to his knees, unsure where to even begin, and held him delicately in his arms.

Isar, in this world, the only one I have ever hated is myself.

No matter how much power I gain, I still can’t protect one incomplete life.

Everything I’ve done… has only ever been to buy you more time. To make your existence a little more defined. But all I could see was chaos.

He cradled Michael’s face, trembling lips pressing softly to his.

If only there were more time.

If only farewell didn’t come so soon.

If only we could begin again.

Memory Fragment Six

“Lucifer, are you NUTS?! You wanted to destroy the universe because you were bored?! How the hell can you be this irresponsible?!”

Responsibility, again, always responsibility. That this man would react this way wasn’t surprising at all. Lucifer thought of his previous identity, the exalted ruler of Heaven. Though that temperament had been vastly different from Michael’s, at their core, were the two really so dissimilar?

What had kept Lucifer bound to Michael all these years was never duty. It was possessiveness—an uncontrollable, consuming love. He knew himself well. He was someone who would abandon everything for passion, for freedom, for power. But Michael was far too repressed. Even without love, Michael would stay with someone for the sake of duty. Lucifer couldn’t do the same. The difference between them was so vast, their unhappiness together felt inevitable.

Lucifer spoke, at last, voicing years of quiet discontent. But Michael only replied:

“I’m not Father God. We’re fundamentally different. Admit it. From beginning to end, the one you truly loved was Father God. Michael was just a stand-in.”

“You’re right. I don’t love Michael. But I don’t love the Creator God either.”

“Exactly, Lucifer. You love no one. You only love yourself.”

Lucifer didn’t argue. He simply smiled and said, “So don’t do anything for me. It’s not worth it. I’ve only ever acted out of spite. I’ve never loved anyone. After I’m gone, live well. You hear me? Live well.”

He turned swiftly, striding toward the long bridge.

“Lucifer, don’t go! Even if you don’t love me—I don’t care!” Michael’s voice broke behind him. “I love you.”

That single sentence… was already enough.

Lucifer rested his hands on the hilts of the twin swords, and then turned back to look at Michael once more.

Michael had never been able to read him. Always thought him impossible to understand. He didn’t know that Lucifer’s heart had always been resolute.

Lucifer remembered when they had still been together. Michael used to tease him, saying that though Lucifer was older, he acted more like a child. And thinking about it now, perhaps that wasn’t so wrong.

He had once believed himself mature, detached, someone who had already seen through the world’s illusions, understood its principles. But in the end, he did something painfully childish.

Just because his beloved said “I love you”—he willing gave up eternal life.

When the white light engulfed the world, when radiance and ruin swept outward in all directions, only then did Lucifer realize that such a sudden death wasn’t frightening at all.

It was no more than the blink of an eye.

Soon, everything fell silent again. Darkness reembraced the abyss.

So it was true that when a demon lost their life, consciousness didn’t cease right away. The world turned bluish-gray. He turned around and saw Michael’s figure sway and blur in layers. Then Lucifer’s soul began to rise.

Everything slowed. Every image became cold and distant, as if seen through a frozen lens.

Lucifer drifted toward Michael’s side, but his form no longer responded to what little remained of his will. Michael’s white robes had turned a shade of ash, his red hair dulled to gray. Every blink of his closed eyes moved in slow motion. Lucifer saw two long tears trace from the corners of his eyes down to his chin.

And Michael… seemed only able to say one thing:

“Lucifer, are you still here with me?”

—I am.

But he could no longer speak.

No longer had a heartbeat.

No longer had a heart.

And yet, how could there still be pain, this searing ache in the core of his broken awareness?

He realized… in the end, Michael only ever wanted one answer: Whom did he truly love?

Was it the Creator, steady and immovable since the dawn of existence?

Or was it the tragic replacement, the Archangel “Michael”?

It was a question with no answer. Because he loved neither the Creator, nor “Michael”.

As his consciousness thinned, one final memory surfaced, something Michael had said through tears in that last sorrowful dream:

—I am not the Creator God. I don’t even have a complete soul capable of starting anew. I can only watch as my one and only life is consumed by an unrequited love with no conclusion.

—I am not God. I do not possess a complete soul.

—I, am merely God’s Original Sin.

—In the eternal coexistence between God and the universe, I am His one small, inconsequential mistake.

Now, before him, Michael’s eyes were open.

And incredibly, though everything else had turned dull and gray, his eyes remained blue as the ocean.

Tears welled in those eyes, but Michael’s face remained expressionless as he stared at the place where Lucifer had turned to dust.

Maybe it was illusion. Maybe longing. But that didn’t matter anymore.

Lucifer remembered the first time he’d fallen into those eyes.

At last, more than eight thousand Berduth had passed.

Between water and fire, between life and death, between light and darkness.

Between you and me—

Isar, our story is over.

If you ask me who I love, I cannot give you an answer.

Because I don’t love a person.

I love God’s Original Sin.

I love that mistake.

That single, unrepeatable life.

That incomplete soul.

Whether it’s burying the world, or giving up eternal life—

All I ever wanted is to hold onto that broken soul.

That soul has a beautiful name.

In the ancient Heavenly Language, it means:

Radiance of the Sun.

Author: Tav Tav

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