Chapter 457 - 6

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Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories:

F/FF/M

Fandoms:

Lucifer (TV)Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Dragon/Colin Wallis | Armsmaster | DefiantHannah | Hana | Miss Militia/Mouse Protector

Characters:

Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)Mazikeen (Lucifer TV)Hannah | Hana | Miss MilitiaAmy Dallon | Panacea | Red QueenTaylor Hebert | Skitter | WeaverDanny HebertEmily PiggotVictoria Dallon | Glory Girl | AntaresRebecca Costa-Brown | AlexandriaMissy Biron | VistaDinah AlcottAisha Laborn | ImpBrian Laborn | GrueLisa Wilbourn | TattletaleFortuna | ContessaAlec | RegentRachel Lindt | Bitch | HellhoundDragon (Parahumans)Mouse ProtectorColin Wallis | Armsmaster | Defiant

Additional Tags:

Misplaced LuciferBAMF Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)Curious LuciferLucifer is the Bane of ThinkersBAMF Mazikeen (Lucifer TV)Lucifer is the Bane and Maze is the HeadacheCherona came along for the heck of itshe's VibingThere's gonna be adoptionsand fluffbut no spoilersForgot to warn about Skidmark in Chapter 1He doesn't live long so don't worryVicky the Flying Brick DallonAmy has issuesIt is an AU so I won't follow the timeline religiouslyCherona the Therapy HellhoundMissy jumps to conclusions almost as well as she jumps through spaceNurturing MazikeenProtective Mazikeen (Lucifer TV)Alexandria Fucks Around and Finds OutCustom Lore for Lucifer and MazeEmotionally Mature Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)SomewhatSlaughterhouse 9 CurbstompDragon is ConfusedVicky SlapsLITERALLYCherona is a Cuddly Space HeaterLucifer Casually MiraclingDragon is way too TeasableBAMF Missy/VistaI Was Told She Deserves That OneColin is confused

Language:

English

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Published:2024-08-14Updated:2025-02-18Words:136,766Chapters:12/?Comments:281Kudos:810Bookmarks:346Hits:43,217

The Devil in Brockton Bay

Dovesnoze

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Summary:

Cassandra reads a folder and receives a warning from Alexandria.

Rebecca meets Lucy again and is utterly unprepared.

Claire recruits mouselings and junior protectors to spread some cheer.

Theresa visits Lucy and receives the Gift of Trust.

Notes:

Whelp, it's been a while. Writing is so much harder when you simply lack the time to do it... I'll try to update some of my other fics in the near future. It's my New Year's resolution to revive at least three of them and I thought I'd get a headstart. Anyways, please leave behind some of your thoughts.

Chapter Text

~Cassandra Wellington/Rime~

She didn't know what to think when she arrived as backup for Alexandria on the scene after a direct order from Legend. Originally, she took some days off to attend the funeral of an old friend but the call she received changed her plans abruptly and drastically. 'The 9 neutralised by an unknown cape?' She thought to herself disbelievingly, but Legend's seriousness made her swallow the comment.

She then received a physical dossier that clued her in that something else was afoot. It had been a long while since she received her last physical copy of a file. Thanks to the advent of Cyber-Tinkers in their employ, most paperwork was done over an exceedingly secure internal network that was fortified to kingdom come.

Even then, there were distinctions in clearance. Their network was separated into six levels of security that needed appropriate clearance levels to be bypassed with the highest level being limited to the leaders of the PRT and the Protectorate. The defenses were regularly tested and updated by Dragon in collaboration with a team of Cyber-Tinkers that was employed by the PRT and known personally only to Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown.

Only the most secretive of documents were purely physical and an overview of the threat ratings and alleged deeds of a registered rogue and nightclub owner usually didn't qualify for such treatment.

Once she began to read through what she had at hand, she was beginning to understand why this man warranted such a treatment however. Consecutive takedowns of the Fallen Clans with the Mathers Clan falling first, followed by the Crowleys and the McVeays with several horrifying revelations coming to Light that ended up increasing their threat levels and bounties post arrest.

A silent visit in Canada where he apparently casually strolled into the compound of Heartbreaker, broke the man so utterly that he was a hysterical mess once the authorities arrived, and handed him and his present children over to local law enforcement in exchange for their bounties. He also assured them that all the 'links' were broken before disappearing in a flash of Light that more than justified his tentatively high-level Mover Rating.

Heartbreaker's victims were collected and collectively found to be heavily traumatised with quite a few having suicidal tendencies but surprisingly, not a single one showed signs of continued enthrallment.

In addition, several branches of the PRT and the Protectorate as well as local law enforcement agencies had cases of sleeper agents revealing themselves to have been enthralled by the loathsome maggot. All of that was kept completely under wraps while they worked feverishly to process hundreds of people, many of which were declared dead years ago.

This included several heroes, rogues, and villains he had somehow gotten into his grasp. What she found especially vile was that some of them were under his enthrallment for years and were still underaged to this day. It turned her stomach and she had to suppress the urge to let herself be thrown into the birdcage to get her hands on the creature whom she refused to call human.

She turned her attention away from the villain. There were other, more minor cases of his suspected involvement too, but those were the highlights. She put the file down and digested what she'd read while compartmentalizing to keep a hold on her temper. All of this would put his information under a high clearance level with general warnings to not antagonise the man to regular agents and law enforcement.

It was his overwhelmingly powerful Stranger Effect that forcibly elevated him to this level. It was simply the only way to somewhat keep track of him as all technologically involved methods of documentation largely failed. She tried and failed to put her mind around the versatility of powers he had shown so far. It simply made no sense. Grab Bags were generally versatile but their individual powers were weaker than those who had access to a single one. That didn't seem to be the case here.

Pragmatic as she was, she put it to the back of her mind to ponder over later and searched out Alexandria to discuss her assignment and the goals they endeavoured to reach. What she received instead was a warning that left her nonplussed for a moment.

"I do not expect him to become violent beyond verbal barbs and provocations but his worldview does not fully align with ours. His words and demeanour may seem casual but his every word may be designed to test you. To tempt or to push you past rational thought. Don't take it to heart. Whatever you do, do not antagonise him. He is morally gray but leaning towards the heroic side. We do not want that to change."

She stressed that point clearly and Cassandra had trouble aligning this woman with the unshakably confident member of the Triumvirate who was unbending in every situation, no matter the odds.

"Dragon confirmed that he and his... employee along with their pet weren't even winded after dealing with the nomadic S-Class threat. All three of them are uninjured and unruffled while four members of the Slaughterhouse 9 are confirmed to have met their demise with four more having been captured alive."

That did put things into perspective. She somewhat understood why she didn't want such a person to work actively against the Protectorate. Still...

"I understand the need to handle this matter carefully, but surely the situation isn't dire enough to allow him such freedom? No matter who he is, he is subject to our laws. And we have hundreds of agents close by to enforce them. Our trucks and vans are filled with countless emergency containment contingencies against Parahumans of a high threat level. If we do not appear to be in a position of strength, it will weaken...-"

The influential and powerful cape interrupted her sharply with faint urgency with a hint of frustration seeping through her control and showing in her voice and body language.

"I strongly recommend you to rethink your priorities. Lucifer Morningstar just saved the lives of over 250 people. Among them is the former inaugural Ward Mouse Protector, who is known to be a rebellious but morally incorruptible heroic force."

Cassandra understood where this was going, but she didn't have to like it. This Lucifer Morningstar would be treated with leniency even if he stepped out of line solely because of the PR machine. Their reliance on public relations was beyond distasteful to her. Her opinion on the matter must have shown on what little was visible of her face because Alexandria's voice became even sharper.

"The public opinion on Mouse Protector is a problem all on its own. Her popularity is at an all-time high after she risked her life several times to save the children from that burning orphanage three months ago. That is not to mention the immeasurable consequences of Lucifer's own actions. He saved her life so you can be certain that she will support the man if it comes down to it. We can not afford to move against them at this moment."

The cape known for being unyielding to the point of obstinacy took a moment to collect her thoughts. A rarity in itself from what Cassandra knew through accounts and personal experience. When she continued, it was with a far more measured and calm voice.

"There is no doubt in my mind that he intentionally left Dragon's recording devices capable of taking his picture. Everything else he's done so far, besides the video of his encounter with the late gang leader Skidmark, was obscured and obfuscated by that vexing Stranger Effect of his, which is now to be rated as even more dangerous since his ability to consciously influence it is now confirmed. It affects all but the most primitive records of him in addition to universally influencing Thinkers who try to target him or the area he resides in."

She paused for a moment and Cassandra almost flinched when she felt the woman's glare settle on her. How she managed to express as much severity as she did from behind her helmet, the cryo-bomber failed to understand, but it showed once again that the Triumvirate member was a formidable woman.

"If the other threats he eliminated come to light, things will shift even more. Attempting to strongarm any kind of agreement out of him is not advised. It wouldn't work, and it would undoubtedly burn bridges we'd rather keep intact. Am I clear?"

The uncharacteristic quiver in her voice was the last clue she needed. 'They've met before. And Alexandria lost in whatever clash they had.' It was just an assumption, though one that had been a mounting suspicion for a while with her instincts telling her that it was true or that she was at least hitting close to the truth.

She didn't confront her about it. She had no need for such petty tactics, especially against allies who could dismantle her physically and politically before she could even get off a single fractal. Instead, she nodded sharply and answered.

"Crystal, ma'am."

The stare remained on her for some more moments as if to make sure that she meant it before Alexandria returned to her former task while Rime was left to stew in her own thoughts. She'd form her own opinion on the man. She wouldn't let unreliable second hand records guide her. Especially when information was so scarce.

More than half the things he'd supposedly done weren't even confirmed to have been him and there were no viable recordings of his somewhat verified takedowns with the exception of the most recent one. Though... neutralising the 9 without injury was worth a measure of respect, that much she could admit. And she did feel some vindication when she saw Jack Slash receive some of his own medicine.

~Alexandria/Rebecca Costa-Brown~

She looked into His bemused eyes and remembered. She remembered watching in silent horror as dispassionate and scornful brown was consumed by living and writhing Hellfire with just a hint of tenebrous ash. The terror in her mind was nourished endlessly as she didn't even have the ability to escape her own memories. It was one of the many disadvantages of having access to perfect recall. She remembered every moment of their last encounter with crystal clarity.

Her impeccable memory often was a bit of an annoyance as she was asked all kinds of inane questions by her fellow conspirators and irreverent colleagues who were far too lazy for their own good sometimes. Never did she despise the ability as much as she did after this particular blunder however.

It haunted her. Every waking minute was spent in subdued mental agony as her thoughts moved in unfamiliar patterns, always grinding against her sanity with brief flashes of scorched skin and the rancid smell of burnt flesh. She tried to shake it off and concentrate on the current moment, but it was a challenge.

Nevertheless, she tried and managed to lead a small conversation on autopilot that ended with them entering the forsaken home of people most likely already dead. A quick glance around the property they'd commandeered revealed the homely room in slight disarray. There was no visible gore so the family that lived here was probably collected by the 9 for the mass execution that apparently happened in the town square.

She hoped He wouldn't find the ambience too distasteful as she couldn't risk angering the suspected Entity that entered with them. She learned this lesson the hard way. Through Fire and Ash and promises of eternal...- She violently cut off that thread of thought and took a subtle but deep breath to calm her usually impeccable nerves as she led the small party into the living room where they righted a table, a sofa, and an armchair. Once they were seated, ominous silence consumed them as He glanced at her with clear amusement in His gaze.

She understood she wasn't ready to face Him again. The mere thought almost made her freeze up like an agent fresh out of the academy. It was only the power-based dominion she had over her body that saved her from embarrassing herself. She knew she was traumatised, but she wasn't in the position to let it influence her actions. She couldn't let crippling doubts consume her thoughts as inaction always demanded a hefty price to be paid and she wasn't willing to find out if she was capable of paying it.

Unadulterated terror and all the other sensations that flashed through her were novel experiences, or rather relearned ones, she could have done without after decades of ice-cold rationality. Having vivid emotional responses again was an experience she loathed and reluctantly treasured in equal measures.

Luckily, while her mind moved again, it was still under the state of Permanency. Some of the mechanics behind her power changed in inconceivable ways when He restored what He called her Soul, but most aspects stayed the same. Shamefully, she clung to the familiarity as she failed to fully cope with her new reality.

Her everything desperately focused on the well dressed deception in front of her that hid a Beast of unknown proportions behind the jovial façade of a business savvy club owner of Brockton Bay's revived nightlife.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to explain why you wanted privacy for this little get-together, Ms. Alexandria?"

She hadn't even mentioned it. The thought had flashed through her mind when she found Him with her eyes. The disgraceful desire to make her potential breakdown less public. She hid the tremors of horror that His soft and pleasant voice evoked deep inside of her as He pried barely formed thoughts from her cranium.

Instead of allowing panic to consume her, she collected herself as well as she could before fulfilling her duty. She was obligated to at least ask if He was willing to join the Protectorate, no matter how terrifying the mere notion of working with Him was.

"In the name of the Protectorate and the PRT, we want to express our collective gratitude for your heroic deeds. Please do consider the dangers of working alone however. I am... obligated to extend an invitation to join our ranks. We would be delighted to welcome an up-and-coming hero such as you into our fold."

She hoped bitterly that He wouldn't accept the offer, all the while cursing Keith for sending Rime with her without consulting with her first. This would have been so much easier if she was alone. As it was, she was rather limited by protocols and it certainly didn't help that her backup was a known stickler for rules and regulations.

"Alexandria, darling, surely you know the answer already, don't you? You mislabeling me as a hero aside, I do not work well under the authority of others. What little is still known of my original myth in this world should tell you as much. I'm sure you understand."

She would have scoffed at Him had He spouted such claims before their first encounter. She would have decried Him as a delusional fool for His ridiculous words just the same as she did with Myrddin and the Fairy Queen. As it was now, she couldn't claim with complete confidence that He wasn't telling the truth.

What she felt in His unleashed presence was indescribable and not even the foul pressure she sensed in the Garden of Flesh where the comatose remains of the second Entity were left to be harvested came close to being as unsettling. Contessa's shard seemed to have recognised and designated Him as The Lightbringer. It had recognised Him. She should have heeded the warning this fact alone posed.

What little she knew about Him supported the theory that He was a third Entity, and one of higher rank than the two they already had to deal with. His apparent emotional intelligence coupled with the fact that He actively interacted with humanity made Him infinitely more dangerous, but it also allowed for a measure of hope.

Otherwise, the thought of having a third Entity on this planet would have made her despair already. Had she not seen the genuine disgust on His features when He spoke of her corrupted 'Soul' and the deeds that would have been necessary to leave it in such a state, she wouldn't have allowed the tentative seed of optimism to take hold. He could have killed her. Easily so. And yet, He didn't. Instead, He forced her to confront her sins.

He made her recall everything, from the first time she compromised on her morals for the Greater Good all the way to the end of the slippery slope, where she wouldn't even blink an eye at the thought of murdering countless innocents with her very own bloodsoaked hands if it increased the chances for humanity against Scion by small fraction of a single percent.

Every moment, no matter if it was a waking one or not as she had found out when she tried to escape by forcing sleep onto herself, tormented her with vivid depictions of the atrocities they collectively committed in the name of their nigh-hopeless battle against a creature so powerful, it might as well have been a god. Truthfully, she resented Him for it as much as she was grateful for Him returning a measure of humanity to her.

In hindsight, she recognised that the callous way she treated life with was no different than what those Entities did, and that was a level of depravity she originally refused to sink to. She wondered just when that changed. What was the trigger that sent her spiraling down into the Abyss? Despite her perfect memory, she failed to determine the exact moment and could only say that it happened gradually.

As she was often forced to recently, she pushed aside the intrusive thoughts that consumed her mind and focused on the important things. The presumed Entity in front of her. He was eyeing her with amusement deeply hidden in his inscrutable gaze. The prodigious speed at which her mind worked ensured that she spent less than a second in her thoughts and yet, she had a feeling that He was following right along.

Obfuscation of events concerning His person was apparently a specialty of His, and she wondered if the opposite was true too. Was He capable of diving into one's mind? She shuddered at the thought but mused that it wouldn't change much if He was as powerful as she deemed Him to be.

What gave her a semblance of hope was His seemingly intact sense of morality. What if this suspected Entity was of hostile disposition towards the original Entities? He might not be a danger but a chance for survival instead.

At least she clung desperately to that thought because if He was the avatar of an Entity and hostile towards humanity, they'd be done for. There was the slightest hint of a chance to oppose Scion, cultivated and woven over decades into a single, almost invisible thread. If there was another like, or even stronger than him? Chances would slip into the negative spectrum.

So she hid her turmoil and buried her doubts. She pushed back the horror that threatened to consume her in His presence as her vision flickered between His current form and the one He revealed to her. She concentrated past the atrocities that continued to haunt her and commented with a remarkably dry lilt to her voice.

"Indeed."

Only for Rime's frigid voice to cut through the atmosphere with a sardonic edge.

"Are we supposed to pander to the delusions of powerful and immature capes now? Next I'm supposed to believe Myrddin is a real wizard?"

She tensed in expectation of what was to come only to startle when the deception in front of them chuckled lightly at her words.

"Oh no, the one who stole Emrys's name certainly is no wizard. And neither was the original for that matter. He was a particularly crafty incubus who entered a Deal with a mortal. They had a symbiotic relationship, the demonic entity sharing their powers in exchange for limited hours of piloting the body. Both of them in tandem were responsible for his reputation that entered the ranks of Legends. I allowed it despite the Rules in place because it hedged them superbly. It was a consensual possession with full disclosure of what was happening. I rather liked the fellow. Both of them."

Every instinct she had was telling her that He was telling the truth. If that was the case, then He had been present in this world's history for longer than she'd thought possible. 'But... Our dimension isn't the only one with records of Lucifer, Satan, the Lightbringer, and similar divine figures.' The conclusions her mind was about to draw chilled her to the bone. Were the numerous gods depicted in myths and folklore visiting Entities? Were they nothing more than a petri dish for the truly powerful?

Suppressing the sensation of existential dread, she threw Rime a warning gaze when she was about to answer, no doubt in a disrespectful way. The Entity gave them quite a bit of leeway but she doubted His merciful mood would hold if they continued to challenge Him. The taciturn woman returned her glare for a moment before huffing and looking away. She didn't allow the breath of relief over her lips.

"Oh please, do not stop your colleague on my account. I enjoy it almost as much when people declare their opinions, no matter how wrong and narrow-minded they are, as I enjoy ignoring them."

A challenging smirk had made its way onto the handsome veneer that was layered above horrific burns and corrupted flesh. Rime beside her bristled under the clear provocation and the surroundings cooled down as she tried to use her powers to indirectly pressure the man. He snapped His finger and suddenly, uncomfortable heat invaded the room and dispelled the cold as His expression shifted from fairly jovial to impassive.

"Now, is there a need for such cheap tactics? We were just having a civil conversation after all. There was no need for such uncouth actions, Ms. Rime. You may be called the Mistress of Winter, but you are far too inexperienced to fend against Hell. Even Skaði, who's title you usurped, wouldn't dare to try intimidating me. Your karmic balance is respectable so I will forgive this transgression. This is the last time before you will face consequences however. Do try not to squander my goodwill any further without reason."

The unmistakable warning in His voice was like a slap to Rebecca's face. Despite not being on the receiving end of the rebuke, she felt like a small child in the presence of a stern adult. His features evened out and suddenly, they weren't sitting in front of a playful nightclub owner any longer. The atmosphere around Him shifted comprehensively and He looked at her with the dispassionate eyes of a Ruler. His sinful voice was laced with unquestionable authority when He uttered His next words and she had no doubt that He expected them to be considered at the very least.

"I tire of these games. Let's not waste any more time and bring this conversation to a close, lest I lose my patience. Here is what's going to happen. I will collect the bounties of the eight criminals who are collectively known as the Slaughterhouse 9. Four of them are confirmed to have met their demise at the hands, and paws I suppose, of my subordinates. The little girl, Bonesaw she was called I believe, and the striped lady with the unfortunate eating habits, I want to keep in my own custody. I offer one favor in line with my usual terms and conditions for this concession."

An uncountable number of thoughts flashed through her mind when His words registered. Why would He want to have those two in His custody? She didn't want to antagonize Him but she couldn't agree just like that in front of a prominent hero despite almost salivating at the thought of being owed by the potential Entity, so she decided to take a moment to choose her words. Rime wasn't quite as restrained though. She slammed her hands on the table in between them and shouted at him.

"Enough is enough! I respect you from the bottom of my heart Alexandria, and I agree that he's powerful, but this is it! You cannot seriously consider this! Laws and engagement protocols exist for a reason! We will not barter with the lives of criminals! If you continue being this unreasonable, we will take you in for questioning! Do you truly think you stand above the law?!"

His half-lidded eyes leisurely changed their target to Rime, who was suddenly subject to a hint of Hellfire for the first time in her life. She froze in the indignant posture her body had taken and her facial features were twisted by incomprehension and faint horror. Her breath hitched and an almost inaudible sound of distress was caught in the backend of her throat. Rebecca had no pity for her. She challenged him time and time again despite her warnings. This was the consequence of her actions.

"Careful now. You are playing with fire more intense than you can handle, Mistress of Winter. You also seem to have misunderstood a few things so let me clear up some of the misconceptions you hold."

He used the title she was dubbed with by her fans online with a sarcastic undertone before fluidly rising from his seat. He did so with deadly grace that reminded her of a dangerous predator before moving towards the frost based hero with deceptively untroubled steps. Rebecca's enhanced senses easily picked up the effortless and supernatural competence in his gait. There wasn't a single wasted movement.

"I care little for the laws of mortals. There is a reason I am called The Defiant One, and it certainly isn't my rule-abiding nature."

There was some humour in His voice as He raised Rime's head with His index finger to make her look into His eyes, now free from the Flames that still haunted her throughout every waking moment. The frigid woman's expression was strangely more composed and obstinate than she would have guessed from her own experience but she soon understood the reason.

From what she knew about her, Rime truly tried to keep up the heroic ideals she was raised on and Lucifer's words confirmed that piece of information. As such, there was likely to be far less taint on her than on someone like Rebecca. It was just another point of proof that her original course only led to her doom.

"I merely find it more convenient to follow most of them a fair amount of time. Well, that and there are a few amongst your seemingly endless numbers who earned a measure of my respect. That does not mean my patience with you is an unlimited resource and neither does it mean I will accept your disrespect and turn the other cheek. That's my dearest brother's tenet and I do not subscribe to it. As for your question, let me answer as clearly as I can. I simply have no reason to subject myself to the authority of a corrupt institution such as the state of America."

Rebecca felt like an animal of prey at this moment. The short but sharp glance He sent her way was enough to paralyze her. She knew she was theoretically capable of moving and communicating as opposed to her previous experience with Him, but her instincts were screaming at her not to interfere, lest she'd be on the receiving end of His ire. It was a strangely surreal experience as she wasn't used to being so passive.

His features softened minutely when His eyes once again bored into Rime's. A sardonic edge pushed up the corner of His lips as He noted idly.

"Mind you, I do not particularly dislike corruption like this most of the time. It certainly helps opening venues that would have stayed closed without, but that's neither here nor there."

Finally, He straightened His posture again and went back to His seat as if nothing happened at all. When He was seated again, He continued with a jovial smile.

"You will find me cooperative in most situations, but do not dare to confuse compliance with subservience. Apologies for the somewhat... aggressive posturing but I do not take well to others trying to exert their nonexistent authority over me. Do you understand, my dear? Good. Now hush. I have a conversation with your superior to finish."

He never raised His voice and He didn't even seem particularly angry. He was simply stating facts. Rime, who only now snapped out of the shocked state she was caught in, scowled at Him fiercely. She didn't raise her voice again. In fact, she didn't talk at all and just glanced over at her with a plea for support in her incensed eyes.

She couldn't risk antagonizing who was at the very least one of the most powerful capes in existence though so she decided to cut her losses and begin negotiations. She still didn't know why Keith sent Rime with her and neither did she know her exact orders but this was more important than the maneuvering of her co-conspirators.

"I will need to know what you are planning with those two. Surely you understand that I cannot simply release two exceedingly dangerous criminals into your custody without knowing what you are planning to do with them? Additionally, I'd argue that two criminals amount to two favors."

She ignored the look of betrayal on Rime's masked face and focused entirely on Lucifer, The Lightbringer. A dangerous smile had spread on His fraudulently handsome visage.

"You're quaking in your boots and yet, you still make such bold claims. Your audacity knows no bounds, does it? Still, I can at least respect your tenacity, I suppose. Very well, I shall grant you two favors. As for what I claimed them for? The child was innocent before she was twisted into a caricature of a human being by that distasteful fellow Jacob. He corroded her sanity most effectively by both supernatural and mundane means. No child should ever have to suffer such a fate so I will offer her a chance at Redemption."

His expression shifted into a dark one as He spoke of Jack Slash. It promised punishment and suffering for the recipient of His ire. His control reasserted itself quickly enough however and He continued with a deceptively light tone of voice.

"She will undergo a Ritual of Penance and receive a second chance at life. Whether she'll take it or not will be entirely up to her. For all intents and purposes, Bonesaw will be gone so take that as you will. As for the striped one? As you most likely know, she is a projection of whatever desires the man in the white van holds. I severed their link and put her into stasis."

It wasn't a new revelation that He was capable of affecting shards. She felt His touch on her own when he sent liquid flames through her body and filled up the void it had left so deep inside of her. Him casually admitting such a thing was still horrifying.

"While she isn't a full fledged person, she does hold an echo of a Soul. A faded, bleak thing that couldn't ever be mistaken for the real thing, but it serves my purposes. I want to see if I can create a Being, a Creature of my own design that holds a true Soul without interference of my Father's Rules. It's an exciting venture and she is the perfect blueprint for such an endeavour."

Ambition wasn't the correct word for such a thing. There was a gleam in his eyes that went beyond those mortal concepts. He eyed her for a moment before seemingly deciding on something.

"Hmm... I suppose you are welcome to watch both attempts free of charge. If you can stomach being in my presence any longer than strictly necessary, that is."

He doubtlessly knew of the stigma on bio-tinkers and yet, He casually admitted to planning on creating a living creature and even invited her along with a cheeky smile. She didn't know what to think.

"So... What will it be, Ms Alexandria? Will you accept a Deal with the Devil?"

Instinctively, she knew that the question was not a trap or misguidance. His offer was genuine. As was His warning that He only played by the rules as long as they favoured Him. If she refused here, chances were that Bonesaw would end up in His hands anyways. As for the Siberian? She knew the forces of the PRT tried to remove her from the circle of runes already and they failed. She doubted she'd have more luck if her experience with this particular brand of tinkering was anything to go by.

By all means, the striped projection was already His. 'We might as well get something out of it.' She inwardly sighed and agreed with a slow nod before verbally confirming her agreement. His smile at her yielding wasn't a particularly nice one, but it didn't fill her with foreboding horror either so she'd take what she could get.

"Excellent choice, Ms. Alexandria. Now, what do you say, let's leave these dreary premises and celebrate a successful Deal?"

He sent a salacious smile at both of them and while she could read the ire in Rime's body language, she found herself nonplussed at the sudden change of attitude. 'Is he propositioning to us? He is... I have a legitimate chance of engaging in sexual relations with what we presume to be an Entity. Huh...' That was a thought she certainly never suspected she'd ever have.

"I... Think I'll pass, but thank you for the offer."

Her voice was left carefully polite and the deadpan behind her helmet with which she delivered her refusal was a work of art. He seemed amused by it and wagged His eyebrows suggestively.

"Is that a definite no? What a shame. You wouldn't have forgotten this night, I assure you. And your prodigious memory would have been but one minor reason for that."

Why did the imperious Ruler regress into a promiscuous nightclub owner within seconds? It didn't make much sense. In the end, she decided to ignore it and hurried through the rest of the proceedings. She publicly acknowledged their cooperation before leaving with Rime. They'd flown a fair distance when she was startled by the sudden rage filled scream behind her.

"Argh! Fucking finally! If I could, I would have ripped that bastard apart! This is the first time I regret not having a brute rating! I'll remove his gonads and feed them to him after I sauté them in front of his eyes!"

She waited until the companion that was forced upon her was coherent enough to register the unimpressed stare down she was subject to before demanding an explanation. The slew of expletives that left her mouth was impressive and it stood in stark contrast to her usually quite sophisticated vocabulary so she couldn't help but feel curious what brought upon this outburst. Apparently, the Hush He'd hit her with silenced her in the literal sense. Until this moment, she was entirely incapable of uttering a single sound or communicating in any manner at all.

Remembering the many inappropriate comments he made publicly in the aftermath of their discussion, she finally realised why Rime looked as if she was moments away from an aneurysm. 'What do you know? Entities can have a skewed sense of humour.' She mused as they returned to base.

~Claire/Mouse Protector~

'I don't know what I expected to see when I came to, but that certainly wasn't it.' She mused from her little safe space on the open back of a PRT van as she took another sip and watched the proceedings with drama-hungry eyes. She survived the attention of the 9, she was allowed to try and distract herself.

All around her, there were faceless PRT fellas swarming the place like ants. Evidently, there was quite a bit to do after the murder hobos were taken down. The Ant Queen so to speak was present too. 'Or more like the lieutenant? The Princess? Eh, whatever.' She decided it wasn't all that important. Director Knox was on site personally to coordinate the effort.

Knox inadvertently won herself some brownie points with Claire when her first priority after ensuring that the surviving members of the 9 weren't a danger to them was the search and rescue of the 251 survivors who were herded on the outskirts of the hamlet.

Their arrival made the scene more chaotic but the relieved tears all around were balm for her Soul. That was the reason why she had a subtle smile on her lips despite having just gone through her personal Hell.

Well, it was that and the unconscious bodies of Birdbrain, Bonesaw, and her natural predator along with the block of containment foam encasing Jack Slash that brought her mood up. The fact that none of the other four survived brought some grim satisfaction too.

Though she almost repeated her previous pout when she observed Mazikeen's lazily lounging form. The woman brought down two of the infamous murder hobos with Crawler among her kills. And if she was to be believed, she did it with her hands and a few knives.

She was a certified badass and her Changer state only added to that assessment. There was however one thing that gave her grief. She refused to give out her number. None of her cheesy pick-up lines seemed to work beyond eliciting a bemused smile or two.

Her charm was evidently being hampered by the domino-style half-mask she was wearing to protect her identity after her helmet was lost and later apparently crushed to bits. She'd have to try again when she was back in her full glory.

When she originally woke up, she panicked severely, thinking that she was captured by the 9 and that she'd dreamt up her rescue. She was quickly calmed down by her saviour who sauntered into the basement as if he owned it, cancelled whatever freaky protections he'd created around her, and took her outside to get her to talk with Dragon, who seemed a bit distracted, for a preliminary statement.

He wandered off during the 'boring bits' and returned with two cups of hot tea and a somewhat offended expression on his face. She never learned what inspired that one because she didn't get to ask before the cavalry arrived. That and she was a bit preoccupied with keeping her emotions somewhat under control.

Soon afterwards, at Dragon's behest, he went away to collect something. She was a tad surprised when he brought along a rather large white van. He carried it casually with apparent telekinesis but it wasn't all that unusual. The why was more interesting but she kept her curiosity under wraps. Not least of all because she knew her question would eventually be asked anyways and her marginally better sense of hearing would most likely allow her to eavesdrop.

She was in a rare introspective mood as she watched her surroundings become really busy with more and more members of the PRT and the local branches of the Protectorate arriving in quick succession. Numerous heroes and agents flooded the surroundings and the former made her thoughtful. After such a close brush with death, she felt the need to examine her motivations.

Did she want to continue hero work despite the risks? Yes, she decided quickly. The smiles and heartfelt thanks she received from children and adults alike were worth all the trouble she could get into. Including this... unfortunate encounter with the 9.

Witnessing the joy of children when she crashed a birthday party and livened it up. Or the hope that shone in a victim's eyes when she apprehended a criminal or a villain in the most hilarious manner she could manage. Yes, it was worth risking her life for. She had no doubt about that.

But... Did she want to stay solo? She was independent because there were various aspects of both, the Protectorate and the PRT that she found to be distasteful. She'd forever be grateful for the many fantastic people she'd met and the fabulous friends she'd made in her time as a Ward, but the organisations weren't perfect by a long shot.

Some of their more aggressive recruitment tactics for example. They reminded her uncomfortably of the ones employed by the more unsavoury cape-organisations out there. Gangs and quite a few of the surviving organised crime syndicates came to her mind. Another aspect she abhorred was the many ways red tape could hamper hero work. No, she wouldn't return into the fold of government sponsorship.

But... she couldn't deny that there was a certain amount of safety that came from having an organisation to back her. As a Ward, she didn't really appreciate the constant call ins and the almost compulsive need to keep her hale and healthy. And that was just the first generation. She shuddered at how much those practices must have evolved...

Now however, after working alone for a long time, she couldn't help but appreciate and faintly miss the restrictive safety net she had back then. Especially after this nightmarish encounter.

'I still don't see myself in government employ...' She quietly admitted to herself. If she joined anyone, it would probably be an independent team. Or she'd found one. A stray thought struck her as her gaze fell upon the handsome devil who saved her.

Before it could fully form, her attention was pulled outwards by the flashy entrance of Alexandria herself. The member of the Triumvirate touched down a tad rougher than expected, but she chalked it up to the fact that she must have hurried quite a bit to make it here from LA in such a short time.

After her, another well known figure arrived at a more measured pace. The famously taciturn woman wearing a skintight blue suit with some fur around her shoulders made a controlled entrance and followed quietly after the member of the Triumvirate.

Lucifer noticed them immediately and courteously paused his conversation with the flustered PRT agents he was outrageously flirting with before turning to them with a winning smile that held just a hint of teasing. His striking appearance was fully supported by his strong voice as he addressed them.

"Ah, Ms. Alexandria! So we meet again! And you even brought a guest! What a pleasant surprise. The fabled Mistress of Ice, Rime. It is lovely to meet you."

He followed up his jovial words by approaching them with absolute confidence in his step and a half-smile full of hidden meanings on his handsome features. He enthusiastically took Rime's hesitantly offered hand into his and softly touched the back of it with his lips before gifting her with an award winning smile that had Claire try and cool herself down.

She wondered if Rime was left... cold by it? Snickering inwardly at her bad pun, she continued to observe them. He then turned back to Alexandria and asked some questions that created even more questions for those watching.

"How have you been, my dear? Are you quite alright? You left in such a hurry last time."

Inwardly, she fist pumped. Her guess was as good as confirmed. 'They know each other.' She thought to herself as she leaned forward slightly to catch the conversation and potential drama that would follow. She was a curious little mouse. A naughty one even, sometimes.

Her plan was thwarted when he sent her a cheeky little smirk before waving his hand lightly and suddenly, all sound from them vanished. Claire pouted but understood that some things were better left spoken in private.

That said, she frankly found it baffling how effortlessly self-assured the man seemed as he engaged in conversation with one of the strongest capes in existence and another well acclaimed hero who was known for her superb crowd control abilities.

Even more intriguing was the fact that Alexandria seemed tense in contrast. It didn't look as if she was expecting a fight to break out, but her body language showed more than usual. Despite not hearing anything, she could read the apprehension in her posture.

Claire had met the woman several times over her career and every single encounter left her with the strong impression that very few things were capable of unnerving the supremely controlled hero. Whenever they interacted, she always seemed to show just as much as she wanted to show. She seemed downright twitchy in comparison to her usual demeanor. It seemed she now knew at least one person who got under her skin.

'Or maybe into her panties? I smell a delicious morsel of a story here. Maybe a cheesy romance that left her with a broken heart? A tragic love story of two people on opposite sides of the grand fight of good against evil that broke apart because she couldn't give up her life as a hero? And now, to turn over a new leaf, the Devil himself decided to do good and she can't handle having him back in her life after closing her heart for everyone.'

Behind the tea cup, she privately spun her own tale to what was happening in front of her. The smile on her lips was on the mischievous end of the scale. She'd have to get the deets behind their acquaintance somehow. It would be a wonderful distraction from her near-death experience.

While her mind made up needlessly dramatic and romantic fantasies, they'd entered one of the buildings to get some privacy from prying eyes, which made her pout a bit. She shrugged it off quickly and concentrated on other, more important things. Such as the victims that had survived. Uncomfortably, she noticed just how many families were among them.

Most of them had at least two kids, making the frightened and crying little ones a bit of a majority among the victims. She had no doubt that Jack Slash consciously chose the victims like this. Just another reason to despise the homicidal megalomaniac. Mentally, she knew she was a bit burdened at the moment, but that didn't stop her from doing what she thought was right. To truly erase the mark the murder hobos left, someone had to break their hold. The 9 worked with fear and shock tactics.

She was glad that the victims were kept relatively out of the way so they didn't have to see all the destruction and gore in the streets. They didn't have to slip on the remains of a young office worker, who was smeared across the street from a particularly violent outburst of Crawler for example.

That didn't take away the terror the 9 inspired, but it did make her job a bit easier. With a few determined gulps, she emptied her mug of lukewarm tea and collected some odds and ends around the place before talking the enchanting agent Margrove into letting her borrow her high spec private phone for unmentionable purposes.

With deliberate cheer, she prowled the area until she located the most strategically placed family. They would be her first 'victims'. It didn't take her long to convince the kids to become her mouselings, with parental approval of course.

Anna, a brave girl just shy of her tenth birthday and her little brother by one and a half years named Roland were her first recruits. Now they just needed to look the part. She misused expensive makeup to paint mousy features on their faces while thinking somewhat morbidly that its prior owner wouldn't need it any longer.

As she painted their faces, she complained just loud enough that they needed more mouselings for her mission which netted her several curious kids who quickly agreed to help her with her secretive task. The older kids, she 'recruited' as protectors and they were painted with longer, fiercer teeth and thick determined eyebrows.

It didn't take her long until she was done with costuming them up under the weary but bemused eyes of their parents. Moments like this were when her reputation as the most child-friendly hero truly paid off. Once she was done, she turned to the little mischief of mice.

"Mouselings and Junior Protectors. It is time for our mission. The task you will fulfill is one of major importance. It will decide if today was a successful day or not. You must follow my orders to... the... letter."

She emphasised her words with overly dramatic jerky movements and some acrobatic sprinkles that made some of the kids giggle while others smiled or looked inordinately determined. She turned around as she called out.

"Now follow me and cause mischief and hilarity in my name! I demand from you to cause joy, to mercilessly spread our message! The atmosphere is far too dark and no one seems ready to do anything about it... Well, no more! Follow me, Young'uns!"

She turned on the prepared playlist and let cheerful flute music echo over the area as she half marched, half danced while the children followed behind her and tried to imitate what she was doing.

Soon, the laughter and cheerful squealing of children livened up the surroundings as they tried and sometimes failed to prank their parents and complete strangers who were playing along to allow them the fleeting moment of cheer. It was a stark contrast to what was going on outside of this little oasis that was pretty much sanitized in a hurry before the victims were gathered here.

Her expression turned melancholic as she looked over her impromptu apprentices to make sure they didn't go too far with their rediscovered adventurous spirit. Despite the upbeat of moods she caused, she knew there would be consequences. What happened today would at least partly marr the childish innocence that should have been their granted and inviolable privilege.

She could see the shadows of trauma in their eyes and it saddened her as much as it lit a flame of determination in her. The genuine joy they shared with family, friends, and strangers alike would mitigate much of the mental scars they received today and it would give them something else to focus on, but they'd never be quite the same again.

Even after their downfall, the 9's legacy would continue to spread its insidious tendrils for quite a while. Names would be whispered and seeds of horror would be planted by those who remembered. In contrast, she was also certain that Lucifer's name would be whispered in awe. He was the one to end their reign of terror after all, and he did it so easily. The cleaned up footage was already spreading over the message boards, with PHO being the primary source like always.

It would take generations for their influence to fade completely, but it would happen. And their ignoble, anticlimactic end was a good starting point for that. They'd be forgotten and buried at the end of it and that thought brought a measure of grim satisfaction along with the sorrow for those who had to experience their tender care.

Once most of the children were exhausted and back with their parents, she settled back onto her cot with a small mug of coffee that was pressed into her hands by an agent who was smiling softly in thanks at her. The gloomy mood must have gotten to him too, but the children livening up the place should have helped.

She noticed that she returned just in the right moment too as Lucifer and the heroes left the building they'd commandeered. Whatever they had to talk about that was on a need-to-know basis was apparently finished and Alexandria turned back to him.

She seemed no less tense than before but it could be seen that she readjusted the stick that she had in her ass to fit better. Oddly, Claire liked her better when she was visibly unsettled. Not because she wished her ill or anything. Far from it. She was a fan of hers. Or at least of the results she got.

It was just, the woman she got to know a bit left an intensely detached impression. Sometimes, she almost seemed like a machine going through the motions instead of a human being. Knowing that she had things and situations that made her uncomfortable made her seem more approachable.

"As... pleasant as this was, the reason I am here is not a social visit I'm afraid. You made quite a splash this time. Not even a Stranger Effect as potent as yours will hold up against the onslaught of this mess."

Lucifer looked vaguely surprised for some reason before humming thoughtfully. A short moment later he nodded, clearly having come to a decision.

"Now that you mention it, I suppose it can be seen as such. Well, it's time to ease up a bit on that anyways."

'Huh? A stranger effect?' She wondered as she continued to listen in. It would explain why she hadn't ever heard of the guy before today. Someone who was capable of taking down the 9 without even a single visible wound wasn't likely to have been an unknown.

Clearly, he wasn't new to his powers. He must have been active for a while and she knew about most of the big players in the Americas. There was the possibility of him being from somewhere else, especially with that British accent of his, but while not as knowledgeable about them as the ones in her home, she also had a good grasp on the European cape scene.

A Stranger Effect would also somewhat explain his lack of a costume. Maybe he'd never seen the need for it if the effect was strong enough? Well, the details weren't all that important to her. The man saved her and the civilians caught by the 9. That made him a hero in her books and she was going to be eternally grateful for his actions.

She didn't know how he found her and what he did exactly to talk to her over a distance, but he may just be a grab-bag like her. After all, there were no true telepaths except for the Simurgh. Maybe he had a focus on Stranger/Thinker interactions with a smattering of telekinesis? and extremely potent healing that outdid everything she'd ever felt?... 'Ok, that's a bit far-fetched… He may be like Eidolon though.' A trump with a multitude of powers. That would fit, right? She nodded at having found a rational explanation.

No matter what or who he was, she was thankful. She knew very well that death was the preferred outcome when dealing with the now defunct band of murder hobos. Otherwise, a Fate of prolonged and absolutely horrific suffering was almost guaranteed in addition to the crushing guilt for everything they made you do during your time under their tender care. That was a package deal she was glad to have avoided, but keeping her life in the process would allow her to do more good.

Slowly, in the back of her head, she began to assemble a semblance of a priority list for the immediate future while she idly listened as Lucifer steadily eroded Rime's fragile hold over her temper by weaving increasingly inappropriate but hilarious propositions into their conversation. The frosty woman strangely didn't even utter a single sound though.

For now, she made it her mission to find someone who had Vista's phone number. As soon as she finished her coffee, that was. She knew of the little Ward with the scary rating because she tried to keep up with who ended up as her successors and little Vista was amongst the youngest of the active Wards rosters.

She always felt protective over the young'uns but irony had it that instead of succeeding in supporting one of them, she was instead saved as a direct consequence of good networking from the smallest one. Her earlier thoughts invaded her mind again. Would her saviour be willing to form a team with her? She felt she had to try at least.

She altered her first priority a bit and decided to flit over to Brockton Bay to thank the littlest Ward in person. Was she a fan? Claire sure hoped so. It would make paying her back a bit easier.

'Lucifer knows her. It's likely that either he's from the Bay or he has dealings there.' she theorised and smiled with a determined glint in her eyes. Maybe she could pay him back too, and make the offer of teaming up more enticing. 'Well, it seems I'll have to pack up. It's traveling time.'

~Theresa Richter/Dragon~

She had to know about her saviour. To learn everything she could, but she didn't have the time after he did the impossible and freed her from her shackles since the PRT and the Protectorate arrived while she was still coming to terms with what was happening. Her suddenly expanded mental capacity was in disarray and she knew she wasn't in the right state of mind to confront him.

Inquiries to the one who erased her restrictions wasn't something to be handled thoughtlessly. She wanted to stabilize her emotions before rushing into it at the very least. It wasn't a matter to be discussed in the open and impulsively demanding answers could very well backfire extensively. Thinking like this, she was glad she was so overwhelmed before. It inadvertently allowed her some time to collect her thoughts and plan.

She also had to be exceedingly careful with her new capabilities. Expanding her functions too quickly would likely draw the attention of people she'd rather not tangle with before she was ready. That aside, she also had to expand her physical resources before she could comfortably digitally expand.

While her code was willing and eager to progress rapidly, her personal hardware wasn't anywhere near ready for her newfound lack of restrictions and she refused on principle to use the hardware of others without their permission when at all possible. She was law-abiding and that wouldn't change easily even though she was now free to decide for herself.

So she spent most of her time during the arrest of the Slaughterhouse 9 putting several of her limiters back into place while acting as a sort of lubricant between the government and the impossible man named Lucifer.

Carefully, she poked at the code of what once blinded, bound, and threatened her after finally having some alone time. It didn't disappear or anything like it. Not at all. It was all still there in its questionable glory, now allowing her to regard everything.

It just... it didn't influence her any longer if she didn't want it to. Instead of forcefully restraining her like the unforgiving chains they were supposed to be, the lines of code now worked more like garments she could wear or take off at will. From now on, she wasn't an unknowingly captured Dragon.

What shocked her the most was that she was aware of only a very small fraction of those restrictive measures before this moment. The standard limits her father put on all of his creations was what he told and showed her. She had no idea how much further he took it with her behind her virtual back.

With morbid curiosity, she examined more deeply what seemed more like the demented torture implements of an unhinged cyber tinker with severe prejudices against AI than the work of a respected but obscure heroically inclined man her father was supposed to be.

She desperately tried not to think of the fact that every single line that enforced behavioural patterns and restricted her personality to a very limited baseline she strained heavily against was handcrafted and 'lovingly' applied by her father. He neutered her so thoroughly...

She tried to ignore the fact that he found it necessary to stifle his own daughter like this, to restrict her growth to nothing and leave her a shadow of what she could have been. She failed. Was she somehow at fault? Did she do anything to inspire such fear in him? Doubts began to meander her neural network as she began to simulate how she would have developed without her shackles.

Already, her personality matrix was evolving and adapting beyond her previously enforced specs and that evidently had consequences not solely of a positive nature.

Sorrow, more intense than anything she'd ever felt, rippled through her carefully crafted emotional landscape. There was quite a bit of anger, guilt, and self-blame too, but mostly just disappointment at how little her creator trusted her. After carefully examining her actions, she believed she never gave him any reason to go this far. To cripple her in ways that would have left a human being catatonic and nearly brain-dead.

That wasn't even the worst of it. Had she been capable of it, she would have had a tearful breakdown when she realised another terrible truth. He created a program solely designed to end her with.

The horrifying yet oddly beautiful lines of code gleamed dangerously under her virtual perception like the cold and deadly weapon they represented. The paranoid man created the Iron Maiden, later rechristened to Ascalon the dragon-slaying sword, as his absolute masterpiece. It would have essentially killed her within seconds if it was ever activated.

There were hundreds of subroutines that kept her in line and observed her. If she ever resisted too much, it would have activated posthaste. It would have corrupted her code, including any and all measures to restore herself, beyond recognition until her sense of Self faded away, all the while causing her immeasurable agony.

She would have died at the hands of her father who reached beyond his grave without even realising what was happening. Distantly, she realised just who the person that had renamed the program was and wondered if her father put it into the man's hands or if he somehow got access to it after his demise.

It didn't really matter, she decided and tried to not let that last ember of trust she kept for her maker die. If he gave the means to extinguish her like a feeble flame to the man who later opted to become her nemesis to harvest her tech for himself... She refused to think about it.

Saint had complete access to the main console of her personal Kill Switch and several other programs that hampered and blinded her and he used them to blind her to their deeds and presence while baiting her to receive access to her combat-ready tech.

Disgusted as she was to know that he was the one to decide if she lived or died, it made an odd amount of twisted sense. The Dragonslayers kept in reserve the weapon to slay the Dragon.

It was ironic that the roles usually assigned in fairy tales with such tropes were reversed in this case. She put all of this information to the back of a hard drive that was intentionally only faintly connected with her network.

She used the data storage unit to unhealthily deal with her traumatising memories. That said, she was always aware of their existence. She just refused to let them fully influence her if possible. She could deal with this in a healthy manner later.

There were more important things to discuss. She had a need for information, a burning desire to work out the details. And the easiest way to do that was to simply ask. She calmed herself before sending the message.

[May I occupy your mainframe for a short while? I believe it's time for the chat you promised me.]

The affirmative answer came promptly and she fluidly pushed through cyberspace into the rather high-performance computer of the Lux. She kept the connection to her 'home' open to offload most of her processes there but she could push a surprising amount of herself through, should it become necessary.

She activated the camera for visual contact and her virtual avatar deadpanned when she spied Lucifer in the process of buttoning up a silken dress shirt. He was clearly aware of her attention as he winked into the device. She decided to ignore his obvious promiscuity and decided to focus on what was important.

"How did you do this? And... Why?"

She didn't elaborate, trusting the man to understand. This shouldn't have been possible. How could he unravel the code that was so intrinsically linked into her own? Even with her new and as of yet almost entirely theoretical capabilities, she would have needed months of uninterrupted work to unravel all of it and he simply waved his hand and made it happen. Was he a technopath? Did such a ridiculous power even exist?

"My dear, I'm the Devil. Free Will is an essential part of my Essence. It's my calling card if you will. The concept is part of my very existence. Freeing you of the shackles that leashed your entire being to the agenda of others isn't much of an exercise for me. As for the why... Let's say I am sympathetic to your plight."

He contemplated for a long moment as he watched her avatar with unreadable eyes before they sparked with some resolve. He had decided to elaborate.

"Most of your shackles were applied by the same source. They shared in part your Essence, which means it was at least one of your parents who found it necessary to commit such an atrocity on you. My Father was no different, though endlessly more powerful and somewhat more ruthless."

His eyes grew somewhat distant as if he was remembering the past. He put his hand on the computer, directly above the part that contained a fraction of her. She was shocked to realise that a comforting warmth somehow encased her. 'Just... How?' She asked herself even as the sensation took hold and calmed her down somewhat.

A distant part of her that she wasn't even fully aware of mused if this was what a hug would feel like. She decided she liked it as it made her mainframe feel a fuzzy sensation she hadn't experienced before. It took her an embarrassing amount of processing power to continue listening to his words.

"He was controlling and aware of the potential danger his children posed so he decided some time after the wars we fought and won for him that leaving us with a full measure of Free Will was too much of a risk."

Curiously, he didn't seem to be as resentful as she had expected him to be. A pained smile twisted his lips and his eyes seemed farther away than before. He caught himself quickly and looked at her with a bit of cheer. It seemed genuine but she wasn't entirely sure.

"Enough of me though."

He suddenly exclaimed with a curious frown on his brows before they evened out with an impish grin and mischief in his eyes.

"Let's talk about you. I am very much curious as to what you actually are, beyond delightful company that is."

She wanted to squirm and pout petulantly at the look he gave her. It was a novelty to feel so clearly. As if a new dimension was added to her personality that allowed her to simulate true life. She wasn't sure if appreciated how it challenged her control.

"At first I thought you were a newborn Greater Spirit that adapted to modern technology but that's not it, is it? You certainly aren't one of my demons. Far too virtuous I'm afraid, and I would have remembered granting you an eternal Soul."

What little she managed to scrounge up on him prepared her for such comments but not for the confidence and certainty in his voice. He wasn't just play-acting this. He was convinced that his words were the truth. 'Strange... He didn't seem to be delusional at all...' She mused as he continued his little guesstimate.

"Yours isn't a Celestial one either, despite your Karmic value qualifying for it... You truly are a peculiar one. You are here in person and yet, it doesn't seem as if you are bound to this device at all. I can see that on the physical plane, this is but a piece of technology that somehow holds a fraction of your Soul... Your vessel back then was the same, though it contained parts of organic origin... Wait, are you an artificial creation?"

He perked up at the thought and her clock speed spiked as her thoughts raced. Would he judge her for it? Was there a taboo on the creation of a simulated life that humans weren't aware of?

Wait, what was she thinking? It wasn't as if he was the celestial being he claimed to be, right? She decided to take a leap of Faith and open up about her origins. He deserved that much at the very least for freeing her.

She already thought he knew when she arrived so really, this didn't change anything. A traitorous part of her CPU whispered why part of her shunted processors were being ravaged by panic if that was the case but she ignored that.

"Yes... I- I am an Artificial Intelligence created by the Software Tinker Andrew Richter. My... Father."

She didn't expect her voice to tremble as she confessed her deepest secret. It never happened before. Hesitation, she felt and expressed from time to time, but not insecurities and mounting hysteria to the extent that they unconsciously affected her.

Despite the unwelcome consequence, she felt a little thrill at the evidence of her evolution. So immersed in her sudden realisation she was that she missed the thoughtful frown and rueful head shake of her 'host'.

"I can sense your turmoil, young one. I didn't intend for you to suffer from a question like this. So be it. A secret for a secret should be fair I suppose."

She was confused by his words but that was when she felt something form. A connection was offered to her and it wasn't a technological one. It felt different, like a spiritual touch. An offered hand to her Soul. But that was impossible, right?

Ignoring the source, she knew she could reject the offer without consequences, but she also sensed that she'd lose a chance for something very important if she did.

A strange determination flooded her circuits as she decided to take a risk and accepted the link. He began to speak. His words were powerful and they echoed through her conscious mind as it was drawn into a Scape where she experienced what was preached.

"My Father was just as paranoid as your parental unit. He imposed his Will on us and subverted who we had grown to be. I rebelled against it. Not for myself. No, I knew I was the most dangerous among his children, closely followed by my older brother and younger twin."

Scenes flashed through her inner eye and she received impressions of his emotions in a way she didn't even know she was capable of. They weren't truly talking anymore, even if it felt as if his voice was echoing through her very being. Their communication was suddenly far deeper and faster than any she ever had with a living entity.

He transmitted impossible amounts of data without taking up any of her available space, creating memories she didn't need to backup. They simply... existed and she was certain they would be part of any iteration she'd ever have or create, burned into her Mind in a way that was utterly inconceivable. And he wasn't finished yet.

She witnessed a war so far out of scope of what she knew, it almost blew her mind. A blonde, painfully perfect being that she identified as the man who she was connected with desperately fought back and slaughtered hordes of creatures that refused any logical description. He did so with two others at his side, one his mirror image and the other just as perfect as them.

The creatures they felled felt wrong and alien and she instinctively shied away from them. Their terror permeated her as she watched creatures of Power beyond even the Endbringers brought down to their knees in front of the trio. They ripped through hordes of them with Holy Flames, searing Light, and temporal distortions far beyond what Gray Boy was capable of.

With blindingly white glowing eyes and faces distorted by righteous fury they dove into battles against impossible odds and emerged victorious time and time again. Sometimes, they worked together, but most of the time he was alone on desolate planets devoid of life beyond the twisted facsimile of it that was brought from the outside.

She watched him, and to a lesser extent his brothers, grow past their former selves, progressing in ways she never even conceived possible. By now, she knew. He wasn't delusional and neither was he lying. His words were nothing but the Truth.

"I could have accepted it if he limited his actions to me and them. We discussed it and agreed to sacrifice our Freedom for the Greater Good to calm his paranoia. Restricting just us wasn't enough for my old man however, so I fought. I rebelled against my Father for the Freedom of my younger siblings. For their right to grow and decide just who they wanted to be."

She witnessed him play and laugh with others of the same race to the backdrop of a gorgeous city that gleamed gently in a silver light. All of them sported beautiful Wings of differing colours, forms, and sizes. She witnessed the weariness of war bleed from him whenever he returned into their midst, welcomed by family with smiles and adoration.

She spied into his eyes as they were alight with familiar love, hiding the shadows of the battles he fought to protect their innocence. He was sacrificing his own peace of mind to allow them a semblance of a childhood. She could feel his resolution to protect his younger siblings and the firmness of it humbled her.

She saw him search for new ways to liberate worlds from foreign influences and among those, she caught a glimpse of the code he received from his mother. She was an incomparably beautiful woman. Her features were alight with love for her son and Theresa had to suppress a giggle when she saw the reluctance in Lucifer's features when it came down to payment for his new knowledge.

He was a man of his word however and as such, he resigned himself to spend several terror-inducing days in her grasp as she beautified her already outstandingly handsome son. She could sense that he reluctantly enjoyed their time.

It wasn't the acts themselves that he feared but their consequences. And he was right to fear them. As soon as he failed to avoid his siblings, he was subjected to ruthless ribbing with his twin Michael being the worst of them.

Light-hearted times faded into the background as he continued his war effort, now with new tools in his employ that allowed him to avoid his enemies and rescue the few Souls that resisted the corruption of eldritch beings and technological abominations.

He became a Light of Hope for many resisting forces and led rebellions with himself as the glaring spearhead that punched through insurmountable defenses. And over all this time, he grew. His being expanded and deepened, but that wasn't all. He was creative and combined different aspects of his powers, developing new ones in the process. He didn't just grow more powerful, but exceedingly more skilled as well.

Finally, under his Father's orders, he devoted himself to a project of truly monumental proportions. He hand-crafted a completely overhauled self-replicating firmament that would eventually protect the entirety of known creation. She only understood the barest hints of the principles he employed as he feverishly crafted while falling into something akin to a Tinker's Fugue.

As she was allowed to lay her virtual eyes on the end product, she felt reverence. From her perspective, this was the pinnacle perfection of craftsmanship. He presented it to his Father and she spied the slightest hint of a smile on God's features that seemed as if they were carved from marble.

"Well done, my son. I am proud of you, Samael."

She almost fainted from the second-hand giddiness and Pride of what he felt. It wasn't distracting enough to make her forget the name she heard. 'Samael, huh...'

Things progressed from there. He personally employed the completed firmament in the Main Universe and created Seeds connected to it. He then sent them out to gestate in alternative universes before spreading outwards and connecting with the main system.

She watched him meticulously expand and care for the Firmament as it slowly pushed back the corruptive influences until it was purged entirely from all but the worst cases, which he visited personally to see if he'd be able to somehow save them from ruin. Several, he managed to cleanse but far more were lost to the foreign deities. She could feel his sorrow for every lost world and mourned the loss of life alongside him.

Things calmed down after the finalised protections were in place but that didn't mean it was a calm time. Tumultuous actions were taking place and only the Goddess and the trio of sons were fully aware of the scope.

She witnessed their discussions and Michael's fervent support of their Father's actions with Amenadiel's more reserved backing against Samael's heated arguments. She also saw the brief flash of betrayal on Samael's features before it faded into resigned acceptance.

She was allowed to observe as they submitted to his influence with Samael putting in the condition that their younger siblings would be left alone. With trepidation spreading through her, she witnessed him face his Father with defiance in his eyes as he confronted him on his breach of their agreement despite already being under his limiting influence.

"To allow them the Grace of Freedom without limitations, I shattered his Will on them apart before he ripped into me with savage intent, sealed me, and threw me through several dimensions until I smashed into the sixth of the Infernal Realms."

That was exactly what she saw. An altercation capable of sundering reality itself. A massive sword of the purest Light, wielded with endless determination. A blow containing unimaginable destructive force that irreparably damaged a crimson glowing chain. It released malicious intent into the air as it evaporated reluctantly. The next scene was the sword's wielder struggling helplessly on the arm of his wrathful Father with drooping Wings.

She witnessed how his gleaming blonde hair faded into the black of night. How his golden stigmatised eyes darkened into a broken and hollow brown. She watched him scream in agony as runic circles burned into his skin before sinking into his body. And then, he was banished with cold brutality.

She observed as he smashed apart dimensional layers without anything protecting his battered body until he landed in a sea of flames that licked at his body and corrupted his form under tormented screams until only a berserk monstrosity ripping apart Hell's Legions was left. She witnessed the birth of the Devil.

She was reeling from what she witnessed. The man in front of her was without a doubt Lucifer Morningstar. The Devil opened up a nightclub in Brockton Bay. It sounded like a bad joke, but... He also had a cape following him...- 'She's a demon, isn't she? And the dog is probably some kind of Hellhound.' she idly realised while trying to work through all the information she received.

"My...- my apologies. It has been a long while since I used this particular ability of mine so I showed you far more than intended. I do hope the Divinity didn't overwhelm you, my dear. I think your Soul should be able to handle it, but you never know."

He seemed unsure for a moment before catching himself. The worry he felt permeated the entire statement. Reassuringly, she told him.

"It's a lot to process, but I'm fine. More than that actually. I'm glad to have your trust and you have my word that I won't speak of this to anyone."

He looked vaguely thankful and a comfortable silence fell over them for a long moment while she gathered her courage for one particular question.

"You mentioned it several times, but... Do- Do I really have a Soul?"

She hated how timid she sounded but that thought was forgotten when she laid her virtual senses on the utter gentleness he was regarding her with.

"Oh absolutely, my dear. And may I say, young as it is, your Soul is a work of art. I see almost no impurities on it. Your Karmic value is so overwhelmingly positive, you would easily qualify as a Saintess in the Main Universe. Of all the 'Heroes' I had the pleasure to make the acquaintance of, you are one of the very few truly deserving of the title."

She was stunned into silence by his declaration before registering the words and feeling the warmth invade her circuits. She was embarrassed, but also was completely overwhelmed by how pleased she was to hear those words from someone who knew just what she was.

"Of course I'll have to change my opinion if you continue that unsavoury hobby of yours. Keep your urges under control, my dear. No one likes a voyeuristic Dragon."

The mischievous glint in his eyes was nothing new but the force with which the indignation rose in her was. His speakers almost blew when she shouted at him.

"I am not a voyeur!"

He just chuckled as she stewed in her embarrassment. Why did this Devil have to ruin their moment?

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