Lucifer Damned (Morningstar Book 3), Percival Constantine [electric book reader .txt] 📗

A grunt was Cross’s reply. He picked up the scotch and finished what was left in the glass, then set it down and stood. With his arms held out to the sides, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Ringlets of magical energy started to form around his hands and flowed inward, passing over his body. The clothes he wore started to shift, transforming into a three-piece power suit with a bold, red tie and a long, black trench coat. His hair receded back into his skull, until he was left with a smooth, clean dome. And the beard shrunk down, most of the hair retreating beneath his face, the end result leaving just a short, neat goatee.

Once Cross opened his eyes, he then reached inside his jacket pocket and drew a pair of sunglasses. He slid them onto the bridge of his nose and smiled.

“Okay, let’s go save the motherfucking day.”

18

The scene changed again and now Lucifer watched the memory of himself standing before the Divine Choir once more. But this time, he hadn’t knelt before the seraphim. Instead, he stood tall and defiant, even though he was wrapped in chains, seemingly tethered to nothing.

Raum circled the memory of Lucifer, admiring the then-angel’s defiant stance. He gestured to the memory as he looked at the present Lucifer.

“You see? Now this is the Morningstar I idolized. This revolutionary who stood up to the greatest force of oppression in the universe and told them to fuck off,” he said. “But I’m curious to see how this scene actually played out and if it’s the same as the legends say.”

The scene proceeded as it had in Lucifer’s memory. They watched as the angels were dismissed, so only Lucifer and the seraphim that made up the Choir remained.

“Exile.”

The memory of the Morningstar looked up, the ethereal chains heavy around his neck. His yellow eyes had burned bright, and he then asked them a simple question.

“If my crime was so heinous, then why exile?”

“Because, Morningstar, you still have a role to play. One that will continue to serve our cause for generations to come.”

“‘To serve our cause’?” asked Raum, looking at Lucifer. “What exactly did he mean by that?”

“To the Divine Choir, having a Devil proved to be a remarkable marketing tool,” said Lucifer.

The floor dropped away, revealing clouds spiraling below, spinning off into a darkening void. Raum and the present Lucifer fell with the memory down the tunnel. The chains fell from the memory first, and the memory of Lucifer had screamed as he descended through the clouds. The darkness approached, and after what felt like forever, light appeared at the end of the tunnel. A harsh, bright light that seared the souls of all who fell.

Lucifer and Raum now found themselves standing in the desolation of Hell. They saw as the rest of The Fallen gathered around the memory of Lucifer. One by one, the blue light of their eyes was burned to a bright yellow by the powers of Hell and the feathers fell from their wings.

But Lucifer’s wings remained the same. He went to the edge of a cliff and looked out over the horizon. The skies were a dark, ominous crimson. And when he looked down from the cliff, there stood the legions that had followed him into damnation.

Raum listened intently to the words of The Fallen—all of them expressing uncertainty and doubt for the first time in their lives. But then, the memory of Lucifer held up his hands and began to speak.

“I hear your despair. We’ve been cast out, separated from the light that had once nourished us. No more Elysium fields, where joy seems to dwell. Instead, hail this new infernal world we now rule. And in this place, I see a new vision of our existence. Where you see horrors, I see opportunity. Because it’s not the location, but the perspective. The mind can make a Heaven of Hell or a Hell of Heaven.

“So why should we care about Heaven? A beautiful prison with glass walls instead of bars is still a prison. Leave it to the angels and the ‘Divine’ Choir. Here, at least, we can be free. Here we are secure. They may have damned us to this hell, but I welcome their damnation and their hatred. And do you know why?”

There were shouts asking him to continue. And Lucifer smiled as he heard their chants. He raised a defiant fist high above his head, and then spoke a rallying cry that would define this new place for centuries to come.

“Because it’s better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven!”

The cheers echoed throughout the desolate landscape. Lucifer wore a broad, defiant smile on his face as he looked back to see his lieutenants similarly cheering him on.

The scene froze like that, with defiant fists raised to mock the Heaven that had rejected them. Raum watched with a broad smile on his own face.

“Impressive to see how they all once worshipped you so. But what happened next, Lucifer?” asked Raum. “What happened when it came time to actually rule?”

“Reality happened,” said Lucifer.

Raum gestured and the scene changed. Now it was in a large room with a long table. There were eight chairs on either side and one at the head of the table. The former angels were in the seats. Raum walked around the table, making note of all the demons.

“Beelzebub and Leviathan, transformed the most by Hell’s touch,” he said. “Abaddon, Mammon, Vassago, Nergal. The ones rewarded for their role, though they’ve largely been insignificant. And then there’s Asmodeus and Abraxas. The ones you betrayed.”

“I did no such thing!” Lucifer protested. “Asmodeus and Abraxas made their choices and they had to deal with the consequences.”

“Of course,” said Raum before turning his attention back to the scene.

The Hell Lords were animated, all standing out of their chairs and shouting past each other. Their screams and insults blurred together in a deafening cacophony. And as they shouted, the memory of Lucifer sat at