At the gates of Heaven, the same Cherubim sentinel stood guard, watching as Lucifer departed.
The difference this time was the redness in the sentinel’s eyes. As he witnessed Lucifer silently leaving, forever bidding farewell to Heaven, his knees struck the ground with force. His weapon, once held firmly in his hands, was now laid flat on the ground—a gesture of submission and reverence for the one he once admired.
His fellow guards were startled by his actions. They looked up at the figure slowly ascending the steps, his silhouette gradually fading.
“Colt, why did you suddenly kneel? Was that the Seraphim Highness?”
Colt kept his mouth shut, shaking his head while suppressing the heart-wrenching pain inside him.
No, it wasn’t the Seraphim.
That was the former Chief of the Seraphim—Lucifer. The glory of Heaven, the Vice Regent of the Celestial Kingdom, the one whom countless angels once worshipped with fervor.
As he walked up the steps, Lucifer could not have missed the sound of the sentinel’s choked sobs. Beneath his cloak, his gaze dimmed with melancholy.
Even after tens of thousands of years of damnation, even after history had been rewritten beyond recognition, there were still angels in Heaven who remembered him. Perhaps this was the greatest acknowledgment of his existence as the Chief of the Seraphim.
The Records of Heaven—
The first Chief of the Seraphim was born with arrogance. He raised his banner in rebellion, seeking to overthrow the divine order. In the end, he fell from grace, dragging a third of Heaven’s angels down into Hell.
At the end of the pure white stairway, Lucifer stepped off the clouds and leapt downward.
His golden hair danced in the wind, his white robes remained unstained.
Only the radiant, divine wings that once stunned the Three Realms were gone. Like a bird with broken wings, he plummeted to the mortal realm—like the moment he embraced his fall into darkness.
The star pendant around his neck dimmed. Even eternal light could not illuminate Satan forever—he had already sunk too deep into the abyss, destined to live out the rest of his existence as the ruler of Hell.
And yet, Lucifer grasped a fragment of pure light—Yaweh remained in Heaven, but he would descend from time to time to visit him.
For the sake of that necklace, God would probably not make things difficult for Yaweh. After all… Lucifer had already used up his final chance to seek an audience with God.
"I bestow upon you a gift for your birthday."
"God, what is it?"
"You will understand once you wear it."
The first time he received a gift from God, the golden-haired angel’s smile was radiant.
God carefully fastened the necklace around his neck.
At that moment, meeting the gaze of the divine presence under the holy light, Lucifer suddenly understood something. His fingers clenched around the necklace, realizing just how great a grace it represented.
Lucifer would never do anything to put God in a difficult position, so the necklace was always worn merely as an ornament. And Lucifer’s pride would never allow him to use it to beg for anything. If he ever wanted to question God, he would do so on his own terms.
But for Yaweh’s sake, he took up the necklace he had never once used. It was as if all ties had been severed.
Pulling up his hood, Lucifer, supported by magic, flew toward the boundary between Hell and the mortal realm.
Then, he encountered something utterly exasperating.
Hell’s gate did not recognize him and blocked him from entering.
"Gates of Hell."
Lucifer’s voice, low and chilling, carried a powerful, intimidating force from beneath his cloak.
The Gates of Hell trembled.
"Boss! Why are you dressed like an angel?!"
As it spoke, it hurriedly swung open to welcome Satan in. But at the same time, it couldn’t resist scanning him again in disbelief.
The aura, the very essence of power—this was undeniably a high-ranking angel! How could this possibly be its own Lord Satan?
Lucifer ignored it, striding confidently back into his domain.
But it wasn’t just the Gates of Hell that were shaken.
Asmodeus was strolling near the palace, digesting his meal. Unintentionally, his eyes kept drifting toward the majestic Satanic Palace, wondering if His Majesty might catch a glimpse of him.
Samael had mocked him and Beelzebub countless times already, but the lovesick fallen angel had been a fool for years—and he had every intention of continuing to be one.
Once again, his gaze drifted toward the palace, seemingly out of habit.
At first, he expected to see nothing, just as always. But the moment he retracted his gaze, something new caught the corner of his eye.
A figure.
His head snapped back instantly.
Who was that?
A white cloak, angelic robes—was it His Majesty’s lover visiting Hell?
Power surged into his pupils, sharpening his vision.
What he saw was an undeniably flawless physique, golden hair cascading just past the knees, peeking out from beneath the cloak as it swayed slightly with each step. Even from behind, there was no mistaking it—this was a breathtakingly divine being.
The way this figure ascended the steps of the palace was graceful, noble.
Memories from tens of thousands of years ago were suddenly stirred.
A silhouette, just as bewitching, overlapped with the one before him—someone who had made his very soul tremble, someone he had revered all his life.
Asmodeus gasped.
"Lucifer, Your Highness!"
In that instant, he no longer cared whether it was an illusion or a mirage. He sprinted toward the figure.
"Your Highness! Your Highness! Your Highness! Your Highness! Your Highness!"
Oh, his gentle, radiant Lucifer!
The fallen angel attendants stood dumbfounded as they watched Asmodeus boldly charge into the palace.
He frantically grabbed one of them. “Where is His Highness?”
The confused attendant had no idea what he was talking about, but he was shaken so violently that his head spun, and he nearly foamed at the mouth.
Desperate to make him stop, he pointed randomly.
And so, Asmodeus dashed in that direction at full speed.
The Fallen Angel Attendant’s Warning
The fallen angel attendant coughed a few times. When he saw the direction Asmodeus was running, his expression froze in shock.
"…Does he have a death wish?"
That was His Majesty’s bedchamber!
No matter how many fallen angels were obsessed with Satan, not a single one had ever dared to climb into his bed. That alone spoke volumes about Satan’s lethality. Over time, His Majesty’s twisted sense of humor had only grown stronger—countless demons had thrown themselves at his feet, only to perish in droves.
By the time Asmodeus reached the bedchamber, his feverish mind had finally cooled a little.
With conflicted emotions and trembling nerves, he knocked lightly on the chamber door.
"Your Majesty?"
No response.
Pressing himself against the door, Asmodeus could barely make out faint rustling sounds inside, along with the soft clinking of jewelry being placed on a table.
A rush of blood surged from his chest to his head.
Gathering the greatest courage of his entire life—he pushed the door open.
Inside the Bedchamber
The chamber was lavish.
Before a smooth, reflective mirror, the black-haired King of the Fallen sat in his chair, adjusting the collar of his newly donned infernal robes. His collarbone was faintly visible beneath the fabric.
At his feet lay a pile of pristine white angelic garments. The exquisite jewelry of the Chief Seraphim, scattered across the floor, was all too familiar to Asmodeus.
Lucifer heard the door open and looked over with a smirk that wasn’t quite a smile.
"Asmodeus, you’re rather bold."
"……"
Asmodeus staggered back three steps, clutching his nose—because among the scattered garments, there was an unmistakable pair of white undergarments.
So His Highness Lucifer actually wears underwear under his robes?!
I always thought… he didn’t…
"Shut the door and get out."
Lucifer glanced at his gaze, then nudged the clothing with the tip of his boot, gathering them into a pile to obscure the more intimate pieces.
Asmodeus' instincts screamed at him to obey and flee. But the image of Lucifer’s earlier figure lingered in his mind—hesitating, he asked:
"Your Majesty, just now… was that you?"
Lucifer tilted his head, intrigued. "Just now? What about it? I don’t recall anything."
With a single sentence, he erased the existence of "Lucifer."
Asmodeus slunk away crestfallen.
For the next few days, he would be crushed beneath an insurmountable workload.
A Secret Meeting in the Mortal Realm
In a quiet grove in the mortal realm, Yaweh had arrived early for once.
He gazed at the clusters of albizia flowers blooming in the sea of blossoms. In the past, he had dismissed them as insignificant. But now, during his pregnancy, these delicate white flowers stirred a strange feeling of joy—as if their love had been acknowledged.
Yaweh sighed inwardly.
He had agonized over this for a whole month, yet here he was again, meeting Lucifer.
He simply couldn’t let go.
Raising a finger, he lightly tapped the air, using his divine power to pluck a single albizia flower into his palm.
Guilt crept into his heart.
"The Star Pendant must have broken… and for the second birthday gift… I never gave him anything."
The Star Pendant had been a gift from God to Lucifer during the first Creation Festival. Since Lucifer had been born on the sixth day of Creation, the festival coincided with his birthdate. To commemorate it, God had plucked several stars from the heavens and crafted a pendant worthy of Lucifer.
And during the second Creation Festival—
Forget about a gift.
He had given Lucifer a catastrophe.
Now, wanting to make amends, Yaweh sat cross-legged in the flower field, carefully selecting the finest, most delicate vine and weaving it into the shape of a tail ring. He then picked the most beautiful albizia flower and adorned the ring with it.
Once complete, he infused it with the power of a Creator God, solidifying the plant into a crystal-like luster.
Holding the delicate tail ring in both hands, Yaweh nurtured it with divine power, refining its quality.
Now for the final step—
Conceal its divine energy, making it look like an ordinary gift. √
The Exchange of Rings
That afternoon, when Yaweh gave Lucifer the ring, Lucifer paused, then chuckled softly and slipped it onto his left pinky.
It fit perfectly.
"A token of devotion?"
Lucifer lifted Yaweh’s hand to his lips and kissed his fingertip.
Yaweh hesitated for a moment.
He couldn’t very well say it was a birthday present, could he?
So, in the end, he silently accepted Lucifer’s interpretation.
"A ring should never be alone."
Lucifer, unexpectedly delighted that Yaweh would gift him something, smirked.
"I thought you’d never have such thoughts."
"When I return, I’ll craft one for you. We’ll make our tail rings a pair—inseparable."
"Mm, inseparable."
Yaweh genuinely laughed, a rare sight that dispelled the cold aura he had carried for so many years. At that moment, he felt more alive than ever.
He turned his hand over and clasped Lucifer’s.
As if making a firm decision, he guided Lucifer’s hand to rest against his abdomen.
Though he had been nurturing this life for a month, its presence was still faint, making Yaweh anxious. But this was their child—
The most precious crystallization of life.
Lucifer seemed to sense something. His palm gently caressed Yaweh’s abdomen, his eyes lighting up with a brilliance that cut through the darkness. For a moment, the radiance hidden within his night-colored eyes shone through.
"Yaweh, is it—"
Caught between shock and joy, Lucifer could hardly voice his guess.
Yaweh softly whispered,
"Lucifer, I’m pregnant."
The wind brushed against Yaweh’s silver hair, scattering a trace of his divine radiance—
All that remained was profound, overflowing affection.
The Creator had fallen in love with his Lucifer.
And once more, he had clasped the fallen Morning Star within his grasp—
never to let go again.
T/N: I still can't decide if this is tragic or happy and I refused to be spoiled by checking in advance lol