On the way, when they ran into Messiah, Yahweh once again received a sincere greeting with a blank expression.
Then, Messiah presented an offering with both hands.
A prenatal tonic.
The moment Yahweh realized what it was, he tossed it into his storage space as if it were a burning hot potato, not daring to let Lucy see it. Considerate as ever, Lucifer did not ask. Once they both returned to the Seraphim Palace in the central region of Stellar Heaven, he shut the palace doors. No longer needing to restrain himself, he pulled Yahweh into his embrace.
The invisibility magic faded, revealing the golden-haired angel.
"I missed you."
Lucifer’s words of longing lingered on the tip of his tongue, his gaze as soft as the morning light—so tender it could drown an angel.
Yahweh looked at this familiar Lucifer. His golden hair was as dazzling and beautiful as ever, without the darkness that pained him. His Lucy had the most radiant appearance and a heart of unwavering resilience; even if he fell into hell, his pride could never be shattered.
Hooking his arms around Lucifer’s neck, Yahweh unexpectedly took the initiative to kiss his lips, his voice slipping out between his teeth, "I missed you too."
Only when he saw Lucifer again…
Did he realize what he had been missing, what kind of priceless treasure had slipped through his fingers.
Lucifer Morningstar, in contrast to Satan, had a much purer mindset. Although he had only temporarily suppressed the darkness and returned to his angelic state, angels did not indulge in lust. Even after kissing Yahweh, his gaze remained as clear and pure as before, his hands resting properly on Yahweh’s waist without making any improper moves.
Instead, it was Yahweh who, upon seeing Lucifer, couldn't resist reaching for the angel’s back. The base of his wings near his spine was particularly sensitive. Lucifer dodged slightly and gently refused, "Don’t touch there."
Then, he picked Yahweh up, stopping any further provocative behavior.
Yahweh felt a pang of guilt at seeing Lucifer in such a beautiful and pure state. If this had been the blackened version of Lucifer Morningstar, he might have already offered himself by now.
The bedchamber was elegantly arranged.
Yahweh lay on the bed, his chin resting on a pillow, his abdomen cushioned by the soft bedding. His golden eyes watched as Lucifer moved around the chamber, occasionally adding things for him. Gradually, Yahweh grew drowsy. In such a safe and comfortable environment, his eyelids closed, waiting to wake up to a completely refreshed bedchamber.
Soon, Lucifer noticed some bottles and jars.
"Contraceptives?"
Picking up one of the bottles, Lucifer examined its effects in surprise.
Yahweh, drowsy and on the verge of sleep, tensed up.
Then, he saw the golden-haired angel pick up another bottle and murmur vaguely, “This is… a prenatal tonic for nourishment?”
Lucifer confiscated all the bottles and jars, replacing them with medicines truly beneficial to angels—these were potions he had specially crafted for Yahweh during his time in Hell.
After ensuring Yahweh’s living environment was well-arranged, Lucifer walked over to the bedside. Amused, he noticed Yahweh staring at him, seemingly embarrassed about the medications.
“With me here, you don’t need these things.”
Lucifer pulled out the pillow and let Yahweh rest his head on his lap, adjusting his sleeping position in the process. Facing Yahweh’s skeptical gaze, he hesitated for a moment before caressing his well-nourished cheek and murmuring, “I’ll be careful… I won’t spill inside.”
Angels had external distinctions in gender, but internally, they were androgynous. Only after falling and forming a mortal body did they develop true biological sex.
Yahweh was stunned by Lucifer’s indecent words.
Lucifer smiled. “Don’t see me purely as an angel—I am also Satan.”
Yahweh: “……”
'Bottomless Abyss… Return my pure and virtuous Seven Heavenly Virtues!'
With Lucifer’s meticulous care, Yahweh found their relationship growing even closer. The grievances he suffered under Satan were now gently soothed by Lucifer’s tenderness. Throughout the night, Yahweh listened to Lucifer talk about matters concerning the Seraphim. Lucifer shared every technique that could elevate Yahweh’s prestige, making even the most complex governmental affairs seem as effortless as a breeze.
Yahweh was interested in other topics, but the moment the conversation shifted to document review techniques, drowsiness overwhelmed him.
In no time, Lucifer’s voice ceased.
He had successfully lulled a silver-haired beauty to sleep.
Sighing helplessly, he tucked the work-avoiding Yahweh into the blankets and carefully arranged his silky silver hair to prevent him from rolling over and pressing on it. Someone this pure belonged only in a carefree paradise—how could he ever bear to take him to Hell?
Better to wait a little longer.
Afterward, Lucifer silently left Yahweh’s bedchamber.
Outside, night had fallen over Heaven. The stars shimmered brilliantly, streetlights flickered to life, paving a pure white path. Standing before Yahweh’s palace, Lucifer’s eyes reflected a trace of sorrow. He gazed at the grand palatial complex—his former administrative palace was no longer among them.
He had resided in Heaven for two hundred thousand years and witnessed two Creation Celebrations.
From Genesis to the present, the majority of his memories remained in this luminous kingdom.
Lifting his steps, Lucifer walked toward his destination for the night. His white robe brushed against the immaculate ground, his demeanor poised and elegant. He had no time to waste—he couldn’t let Yahweh wake up and find that he wasn’t there.
The Palace of the Second Seraphim Commander
Having long since finished his governmental duties, Michael was curled up in his bedding, sound asleep. Occasionally, he smacked his lips, as if dreaming of eating something delicious. His lightly tanned skin bore a wheat-gold hue, and his unruly red hair flickered like leaping flames, so messy that angels often doubted whether it would tangle beyond repair by morning.
Yet, no matter how thick-skinned he appeared, he was still sensitive enough to stir when a gaze lingered on him for too long.
“Who’s there?”
Through the bed’s sheer canopy, Michael could only make out a tall and indistinct figure.
Before he could wonder which attendant had come looking for him in the middle of the night, a few jade-white fingers slipped through the curtain, pinching its edge. The nails were neatly rounded, tinged with a soft pink hue, meticulously trimmed.
Just that glimpse of fingertips alone sent Michael’s heart pounding wildly.
“Who are you…?”
It was impossible for this to be a mere attendant—no attendant possessed such an extraordinary level of beauty. Michael instinctively felt that something was very wrong.
The veil was drawn aside, like a dreamlike beauty unveiling himself from behind a hazy curtain. As the translucent drapes were slowly pulled back, strands of golden hair cascaded over a pristine white robe. However, Michael’s attention wasn’t captured by the dazzling golden locks. Instead, his eyes were fixed rigidly on the embroidery along the hem and sleeves of the robe—three golden stripes, two blue ones…
This was an insignia that only the Supreme Commander of the Seraphim could wear, a rank recognized across all three realms!
His neck stiffly creaked as he lifted his gaze.
No words were needed.
Michael’s eyes widened in shock, finally seeing clearly who had come to visit his bedchamber in the dead of night.
A breathtaking angel stood before him, gazing at him with eyes as clear as the azure sky—proud, majestic, and exuding an unshakable dignity. Even in the dimly lit chamber, without a single candle flickering, his beauty remained peerless, as though his mere presence by Michael’s bedside was an unparalleled blessing.
He was looking at him.
Michael was petrified.
Lucifer’s lips curled into a smile. In an instant, across the tens of thousands of years they had been apart, it felt as if time had rewound back to the past.
【Michael.】
A piercing scream shattered the silence of the night.
"AAAAAHHHHH—GHOST!!!"
The entire district of Dominions was jolted awake. Michael’s voice was far too powerful, naturally carrying an amplification effect.
The angels who lived nearby were startled from their sleep, looking around in confusion—only to see Michael sprinting toward the High Chancellor’s palace at full speed, without even changing out of his sleepwear, as if something horrifying was chasing him.
In the High Chancellor’s Palace
Inside the grand palace, the towering red-haired angel had curled into a trembling ball, clutching onto the gentle Metatron’s waist, shivering like a frightened child.
“I saw His Highness! AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
“Calm down—”
“AAAAHHH, HE’S DEFINITELY HERE TO KILL ME! I BLOCKED HIS WAY TO THE GREAT SANCTUARY BACK THEN! I EVEN DREW MY SWORD ON HIM!”
“Lucifer’s had thousands of years to kill you if he wanted to. Stop overthinking.”
“HIS HIGHNESS' TEMPER IS WORSE THAN THE LORD’S IN SOME ASPECTS! AAAAAHHH!!!”
Tears welled up in Michael’s eyes, his terror unmasked for all to see. It was clear just how deeply traumatized he was by Lucifer.
"……"
Metatron, realizing that reasoning was futile, rubbed his forehead in exasperation.
“Michael, did you have a nightmare tonight? You’re talking absolute nonsense. Don’t forget—mentioning that name is forbidden in Heaven.”
To him, His Highness Lucifer was nothing but the picture of grace and patience.
Sighing, Metatron got up from his bed and pried Michael’s hands off him.
“Enough. I’ll go check your room with you.”
Naturally, the investigation yielded nothing unusual.
There was no shadow of Lucifer.
And certainly no ‘ghost’.
After much pleading and clinging, Michael desperately tried to keep Metatron from leaving, but with a flick of his sleeve, the High Chancellor coldly abandoned him and returned to his own palace for some well-deserved rest.
Outside, where the Seraphim’s grand palace had momentarily become the most lively place in the heavens, a certain golden-haired angel stood invisibly in the night, watching Metatron walk away.
With an air of complete nonchalance, Lucifer touched his lips with his index finger and murmured softly,
“Pathetic. So easily scared.”
Lucifer's eyes narrowed slightly as he recalled the look of fear on Michael’s face.
Could it be that, back then, when Michael had desperately tried to stop him from seeking God, he had already known something?
The Stellar Necklace only granted him limited time. After some brief contemplation, Lucifer chose not to waste another moment. He hurried back to Yahweh’s bedchamber, ensuring he was there before his lover awoke, so they could spend a peaceful and intimate night together.
The Next Morning
Lucifer was preparing to say goodbye.
He kissed Yahweh’s brow, carefully combed through his long silver hair, and adorned him with Seraphim jewelry and robes. Yahweh let him do as he pleased, his golden eyes bright with contentment, clearly enjoying Lucifer’s care.
Before leaving, Lucifer spoke with gentle attentiveness, "Sometimes, I will have to return to Hell. If you ever go to the grove, knock on the barrier to summon me."
"Must you go?"
Yahweh was still holding his hand, unwilling to let him leave.
For a fleeting moment, a reckless impulse surged through Yahweh’s heart—he wanted to forcefully keep Lucifer here, make him stay in Heaven forever as his angel.
But he couldn’t.
Their fingers slowly parted, warmth slipping away from his palm. Yahweh lowered his golden eyes, clearly displeased.
Lucifer was about to comfort him when, suddenly, the sound of knocking echoed from outside the palace.
Bang! Bang!
A childish voice rang out, full of innocence and enthusiasm.
"Yahweh, Yahweh! Are you there? Can I come play with you?"
The tone was so pure and naïve that it sounded just like a young angel who had yet to mature.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow.
Anyone who dared to speak to a Seraph in such a manner could not be a mere young angel.
Yahweh’s golden eyes flickered with unease. "Lucifer, you should go. I'll handle this."
He wanted to avoid a meeting between Haniel and Lucifer at all costs.
Regret instantly flooded his heart—if only he had let Lucifer leave earlier! If Lucifer had already gone, Haniel wouldn't have arrived at such a troublesome time!
Lucifer lightly pinched Yahweh’s cheek. "I’m leaving. Remember to come see me."
Yahweh responded softly, "Mhm."
Watching the golden-haired angel disappear from the palace, Yahweh exhaled in relief, wiping away the cold sweat on his palm.
Although Haniel's birth had been an accident, Lucifer would never be pleased to see him.
Yahweh walked to the entrance of the palace and deftly redirected Haniel’s attention, casually guiding him toward Metatron's palace with the promise of delicious treats.
Over the years, Yahweh had become quite skilled in the art of conversation.
Once Haniel left, the palace doors closed once more.
"Haniel?"
Lucifer had not left the Eighth Stellar Heaven at all.
Instead, he had stayed just long enough to witness the entire exchange.
His once gentle expression turned ice cold.
"Haniel, the Angel of Charm."
Seeing that innocent, naive Haniel, the very angel he had once mistaken for Yahweh, Lucifer felt a violent rage surge within him.
The darkness inside him surfaced almost uncontrollably.
How dare God, after casting him aside, create another angel with a face so similar to his?!
A fragile little angel—how could he ever replace him?!
Lucifer did not look back as he left Heaven behind, his azure eyes devoid of any lingering attachment.
The next time he returned…
It would be to take Yahweh away.
And this so-called Heaven…
He would cut it from his heart completely.