"Where are you going, your majesty?"
"Pennsylvania."
"So close to home? It's dangerous there. They'll be looking for you."
"I'm not a coward," he barked. "I'm not going to sit here with you idiots and wait for them to come. Since you’re worthless on defense, the least I can have is a strong offense."
It was easy to track down Serah this time, still hunkered down in the desolate town of Chorizon. She sat in the corner of the empty community center, knees pulled up to her chest, her head down. Luce approached quietly, seeing her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling as she breathed steadily.
She didn't move from her spot, didn't react to his arrival. He stood in front of her, brow furrowed. Was she asleep? Was she that far gone?
"I can smell you," she whispered.
"My, my . . . how the tables have turned."
She opened her eyes and peered up at him. Her skin was flushed, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying. She looked more human today.
Luce wasn't sure what to say. He'd apologized, his regret genuine. He didn't regret doing it—he regretted he'd had to. She was an unfortunate casualty of war, a means to an end. It simply couldn't be helped. She was his way out of the pit. It happened all the time, innocents dying. He'd watched many angels fall, some he'd even considered friends at one time or another, but the thought of this one bleeding to death at his feet stirred up something inside of him: something vengeful, something dangerous. Something he barely kept contained.
"Dance with me," he said, holding his hand out.
Serah stared at it. "There's no music."
He snapped his fingers, his hand still extended. The room was instantly filled with a soft, classical song. "Now dance with me."
"Why?"
"Because there's music," he said. "Why would there be music if we weren't supposed to dance?"
She didn't answer his absurd question, but she gave him her hand and let him pull her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her, swaying them to the music as she rested her head against his chest.
"I don't want your pity," she said. "I don't need you to come around and babysit me."
Despite himself, Luce laughed at that. Even as she plummeted from Grace, the fire inside of her burned strong, forever feisty.
"I don't pity you anymore than you pity me," he said. "Frankly, I'm just bored, and you’re half-decent company."
"Thanks," she grumbled. "The apocalypse isn't entertaining enough for you?"
"Nah." He rested his head on top of hers. "It's kind of disappointing so far. I’ve waited for this moment for ages, and there hasn’t so much as been a surprise party in my honor. No one seems interested in celebrating my arrival. I guess nobody missed me up here."
She pulled back slightly to look at him. "Hard to believe, being as you're the life of the party and all."
He smirked. "They just don't know what they're missing."
Before she could respond, the room started shaking, the music cutting off in a roar of wind.
"Or . . . maybe they do," Luce muttered, spinning around quickly. He shoved Serah behind him, shielding her as half a dozen angels materialized in the room. He scanned them, assessing them quickly. All Powers, some of Michael’s best warriors based on their size. "Ah, you must be the welcoming committee."
"Stand down, Satan!" one of them demanded. "Retreat back to your cage!"
"Now why would I do such a thing?" Luce asked, raising his eyebrows. "I just got here."
"You’re not welcome on Earth."
"So you’re the non-welcoming committee then," he said casually. "Neighborhood watch, perhaps?"
"We’re Angels of the Lord and—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Luce said, cutting them off. "Sorry, gentlemen, but it’s going to take much more than a few measly Powers to lock me back up. So spare yourselves the trouble and run along home before I have to hurt you."
"We’re not afraid of you, serpent."
"I’m not going to warn you again. Zap back out of here, or I’ll be forced to end you in front of this gorgeous being." Luce motioned behind him at Serah as she peeked her head around, fear in her eyes as she surveyed the angels. "And I’d rather her not see."
"We command you leave this place! You and the traitor!"
Lucifer slowly shook his head, rage hardening his face. "You’re the only ones who will be vacating the premises today."
In the blink of an eye, Luce reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold knife. With the flick of a wrist, it soared across the room, striking one of the angels between the eyes before any of them had time to react. The angel flickered, his form shifting rapidly between planes like his wiring was on the fritz, a signal struggling for reception.
"Shield your eyes, angel," he hollered, ducking as the Power exploded into a burst of fiery light. Luce darted across the room, snatching his knife before it hit the floor, and swung around, slitting another angel’s throat. The serrated blade tore at his skin as Luce plunged it deep, nearly decapitating him.
Another burst of light vibrated the room as the last four angels sprang at Luce. He fought off their attack, violently thrashing around and slicing skin, striking them wherever he could reach. One of the angels pulled out a small sword and swung it at Luce, but he wasn’t fast enough. Luce ducked, thrusting his knife into the thigh of another angel, using the distraction to grab the hilt of the Heavenly sword. He twisted the angel’s arm around and thrust the blade into his stomach as he again grabbed his knife with his free hand, stabbing another in the chest.
"Pennsylvania."
"So close to home? It's dangerous there. They'll be looking for you."
"I'm not a coward," he barked. "I'm not going to sit here with you idiots and wait for them to come. Since you’re worthless on defense, the least I can have is a strong offense."
It was easy to track down Serah this time, still hunkered down in the desolate town of Chorizon. She sat in the corner of the empty community center, knees pulled up to her chest, her head down. Luce approached quietly, seeing her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling as she breathed steadily.
She didn't move from her spot, didn't react to his arrival. He stood in front of her, brow furrowed. Was she asleep? Was she that far gone?
"I can smell you," she whispered.
"My, my . . . how the tables have turned."
She opened her eyes and peered up at him. Her skin was flushed, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying. She looked more human today.
Luce wasn't sure what to say. He'd apologized, his regret genuine. He didn't regret doing it—he regretted he'd had to. She was an unfortunate casualty of war, a means to an end. It simply couldn't be helped. She was his way out of the pit. It happened all the time, innocents dying. He'd watched many angels fall, some he'd even considered friends at one time or another, but the thought of this one bleeding to death at his feet stirred up something inside of him: something vengeful, something dangerous. Something he barely kept contained.
"Dance with me," he said, holding his hand out.
Serah stared at it. "There's no music."
He snapped his fingers, his hand still extended. The room was instantly filled with a soft, classical song. "Now dance with me."
"Why?"
"Because there's music," he said. "Why would there be music if we weren't supposed to dance?"
She didn't answer his absurd question, but she gave him her hand and let him pull her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her, swaying them to the music as she rested her head against his chest.
"I don't want your pity," she said. "I don't need you to come around and babysit me."
Despite himself, Luce laughed at that. Even as she plummeted from Grace, the fire inside of her burned strong, forever feisty.
"I don't pity you anymore than you pity me," he said. "Frankly, I'm just bored, and you’re half-decent company."
"Thanks," she grumbled. "The apocalypse isn't entertaining enough for you?"
"Nah." He rested his head on top of hers. "It's kind of disappointing so far. I’ve waited for this moment for ages, and there hasn’t so much as been a surprise party in my honor. No one seems interested in celebrating my arrival. I guess nobody missed me up here."
She pulled back slightly to look at him. "Hard to believe, being as you're the life of the party and all."
He smirked. "They just don't know what they're missing."
Before she could respond, the room started shaking, the music cutting off in a roar of wind.
"Or . . . maybe they do," Luce muttered, spinning around quickly. He shoved Serah behind him, shielding her as half a dozen angels materialized in the room. He scanned them, assessing them quickly. All Powers, some of Michael’s best warriors based on their size. "Ah, you must be the welcoming committee."
"Stand down, Satan!" one of them demanded. "Retreat back to your cage!"
"Now why would I do such a thing?" Luce asked, raising his eyebrows. "I just got here."
"You’re not welcome on Earth."
"So you’re the non-welcoming committee then," he said casually. "Neighborhood watch, perhaps?"
"We’re Angels of the Lord and—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Luce said, cutting them off. "Sorry, gentlemen, but it’s going to take much more than a few measly Powers to lock me back up. So spare yourselves the trouble and run along home before I have to hurt you."
"We’re not afraid of you, serpent."
"I’m not going to warn you again. Zap back out of here, or I’ll be forced to end you in front of this gorgeous being." Luce motioned behind him at Serah as she peeked her head around, fear in her eyes as she surveyed the angels. "And I’d rather her not see."
"We command you leave this place! You and the traitor!"
Lucifer slowly shook his head, rage hardening his face. "You’re the only ones who will be vacating the premises today."
In the blink of an eye, Luce reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold knife. With the flick of a wrist, it soared across the room, striking one of the angels between the eyes before any of them had time to react. The angel flickered, his form shifting rapidly between planes like his wiring was on the fritz, a signal struggling for reception.
"Shield your eyes, angel," he hollered, ducking as the Power exploded into a burst of fiery light. Luce darted across the room, snatching his knife before it hit the floor, and swung around, slitting another angel’s throat. The serrated blade tore at his skin as Luce plunged it deep, nearly decapitating him.
Another burst of light vibrated the room as the last four angels sprang at Luce. He fought off their attack, violently thrashing around and slicing skin, striking them wherever he could reach. One of the angels pulled out a small sword and swung it at Luce, but he wasn’t fast enough. Luce ducked, thrusting his knife into the thigh of another angel, using the distraction to grab the hilt of the Heavenly sword. He twisted the angel’s arm around and thrust the blade into his stomach as he again grabbed his knife with his free hand, stabbing another in the chest.
