Chapter Text
How many times had it been said to watch and observe?
How many times had it been told to bask in the beauties of the unknown?
How many times had it been professed some of the greatest gifts were to witness what manifested from the stars falling from above?
How many times had it been…
Only to find that this time was different. This time there was no beauty. No gift. No manifestation of something new and bright.
This time there was no place for mercy.
No place for her.
The tightness in his chest had settled in when she was first whisked away.
This wasn’t right.
It gripped his heart and squeezed, stilling breath itself whenever he dared to speak. It all happened so fast, so abrupt. She hadn’t even had time to excuse herself from study before Michael and Uriel led her away.
Say something.
Do something.
Would he have followed if their eyes hadn’t met? Would he have stayed if not for the brief flash of fear he saw in her eyes?
Fear… was such a strange thing to see staring back at him. It didn’t look right.
Because it isn’t right.
His words fell upon deaf ears, expressions flat and unmoving. Justifications and logistics quickly followed, countering any protest he could muster until even she bowed her head and nodded along, tears caught in her lashes.
Hypocrites!
It was for the greater good.
This ISN’T right!
It was to keep the peace.
Peace be damned!
It was to maintain balance and order.
What sort of order could really be attained with a solution such as this?
Would there ever be a time that it would be right?
It didn’t matter.
He’d taken her hand then, promising he’d find a way to fix it. Promising to find a solution that didn’t have to be this. Promising her he’d solve it all, whatever and whoever it was on the other side. He just needed…
“More time…” he’d whispered, feeling the words resonate in his throat but hearing nothing but the wails of the wind whipping around him, ripping away the last of his voice as he watched himself fall.
Watched himself… tear apart the wings he’d once carried with pride. How foolish could he have been to think such gifts could’ve meant something more. How foolish to believe he held any power as the MorningStar.
How foolish… and strange…
To feel so lost he could watch himself fall from the sky but still feel the frigid air as it rushed over his skin.
To see the self… that wasn’t the self.
It felt strange… but familiar. His existence had always been a nothingness that clung to the edges of reality. A yearning, but never truly whole. Never tangible. Was he real, or a delusion lost in the thoughts of an angel who’d lost his way? Perhaps he truly was nothing, a manifestation of madness before death’s final embrace.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
So he watched himself fall, broken wings and bloodied feathers. Would it end when he hit the ground or was even this another delusion? Another desperate attempt of an angel to seize Fate one last time before their final breath?
“May you find peace,” he murmured wryly, knowing even he could not hear those words, and closed his eyes.
Peace.
The irony hit him quite literally and he cried out, the first sense of pain shooting through his back when he hit the ground, erasing all else as agony howled into the night. Pain flooded his senses, and his winded cries were short lived, but pain meant he was still alive.
He was alive.
And he could hear his cries. His pain.
He rolled over onto his side, throat raw and vision blurry. He wasn’t alone here, wails of pain and fear were all around. He looked for her, but saw no sign of her and a fresh wave of loss hit him full force.
He’d tried to speak up.
He’d tried to manifest his voice.
He’d tried to suggest a plan, a solution to her transgression.
He’d remained unheard.
He’d been dismissed.
He’d been given… no time.
“Assholes,” he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to sit up as anger burned away agony. He just had to find her again, that’s all that mattered now.
He just had to find…
“Where’s Lilith?!” A panicked cry wailed into the night. “Did someone see where she fell? She can’t be that far—”
“Belphie, calm down! You’re hurt! You gotta take it easy!”
“Let me go! Lilith! Lilith please where are you?!”
“Belphie, I…”
“Ugh.” He pushed himself up on his knees, head pounding. He reached up to touch his brow only for his fingers to come back wet. What… was this strange liquid? He smeared it across his fingers. Red.
Like the color that had blossomed from her chest.
The tightness gripped his heart again and clenched, making it hard to breathe.
“D-Does anybody know where we are?”
“No… no oh no. Oh no oh no oh no! Look at my face! Where are my wings? What’s happening?!”
“Shut up…” he muttered, all their voices making it so hard to think even without the headache.
“Lilith! Lilith please answer me!”
“Belphie, I have to tell you, I—”
“Shut up,” he hissed again.
“I don’t like this place. It creeps me out.”
“Relax, everything’s gonna be fine. We just gotta find Lucifer, and—”
“I said shut UP!”
All eyes turned on him and he growled, guarded. Five others… demons if he had to guess given their appearances stared back at him, their expressions were full of confusion and distrust. The feelings were mutual then. The white haired one stood straighter, setting himself between he and the group, seemingly acting as their leader while another, tear-stricken fellow with four small wings at his back, leaned to the side to observe.
“Who’re y—”
“Well hello to all of you! Welcome to the Devildom!” A booming voice startled him from behind and he reacted without thinking, lunging at the threat that made them all flinch in terror—
— only for his fist to be caught and eyes met with the steely gaze of a teal-eyed being who’s smile didn’t seem as sweet as it appeared to be.
“Goodness!” The voice said again and he looked up to meet eyes blazing amber-gold. “You’re a spirited one, aren’t you? What’s your name?”
“… N-Name?” he repeated, the question catching him by surprise, though he’d be loathe to admit his puzzlement may have something to do with the being staring him down. Another demon, one of high status if his golden adornments upon his wings, horns, and arms were anything to go by. Even more unsettling was the fact that this demon seemed… familiar in some way.
“I would not trouble yourself with this one, Young Master.” The teal-eyed one said, still holding him firm. His build was slender, but from his grip it was evident he was not one to be trifled with. Even the horns that adorned his crown seemed to convey a sense of being captured, never to escape once his claws set in.
Perhaps it was possible he could read minds as well, for he smiled then.
“It would be unwise to surround yourself with those foolish enough to attack you.”
“Well, I may have startled him…” the taller one said, seeming oddly bashful about it. “They have been through a lot recently.”
“Yes….” Teal eyes narrowed. “But didn’t Lucifer say he had five?”
“Five?”
“Yes, I did.” He- no- Lucifer said, walking to stand before him and meeting his eyes, his own cold and red. “Who are you?”
His blood ran cold as he stared into those red eyes with no hint of recognition held within. This was no delusion, it couldn’t be. He stared at Lucifer, his self. His self. Watched him breathe. Watched him blink. Watched him glare waiting for an answer.
“W-Who…” he managed to croak.
Who are you.
Who.
Curious, or perhaps no longer worthy to be deemed a threat, the teal-eyed one let go of his hand and turned to speak to the Young Master.
“He isn’t one I’ve seen before, so he must’ve come from there as well.”
“But if Lucifer doesn’t know who he is… is that really possible?”
Doesn’t know… who…
His body felt numb, and he felt his arms go limp at his sides. What… was happening? Was this his punishment somehow?
“If you don’t know him, I can’t imagine it means anything good,” Lucifer said, crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t trust him.”
“How easy it is for you to give advice already.”
Who… was he?
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze cast to the teal-eyed one.
Whatever the punishment may be, he wouldn’t let Lucifer dismiss him again.
“You don’t trust me,” he growled, drawing their attention back to him, “you don’t trust me?”
“Easy there,” Young Master said, “We can sort this out. Let’s start with your name, and—”
“You bastard!” He yelled, lunging for Lucifer, intent to see those red eyes filled with regret once more. How dare he say that to him now?
“Barbatos!”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Time.
He felt the hit before the world went black and he fell at Lucifer’s feet, knocked out cold.
Time.
All he’d needed…
Was just…
A little more…
“L…Li…”
Time.