WHEN THE DEVIL TAKES A SEAT
PART I — THE LIGHT SEES HELL SMILE
The Light prided itself on knowledge.
On preparation.
On never being surprised.
That illusion shattered the moment the feeds locked onto Damian Wayne.
The café appeared harmless—static cameras, civilian setting, no obvious threats. Damian sat alone, eating cake, reading.
Then the space across from him distorted.
Not magic.
Not tech.
Authority.
A man was suddenly there.
No teleport signature.
No boom tube.
No arcane fluctuation.
He simply existed.
Lex Luthor froze.
"Zoom," he said calmly. "Enhance facial recognition."
The image sharpened.
Perfect features. Ancient eyes. A smile that didn't belong on Earth.
Queen Bee inhaled sharply.
"That's not possible."
Clarion stopped humming.
Vandal Savage leaned forward.
Ra's al Ghul went still.
Lex whispered the name none of them wanted to say aloud.
"Lucifer Morningstar."
Every screen in the chamber went silent.
THE QUESTION
They watched as Lucifer leaned forward, amused, casual—dangerously informal.
Audio filters strained, then cleared.
"Why did you name them Devil Fruits?"
Clarion's grin vanished.
"He knows," the witch boy muttered.
Lex's fingers curled.
"No," Lex said slowly. "He's curious."
That was worse.
They listened as Damian answered.
Not defiant.
Not submissive.
Controlled.
Every word landed like a philosophical blade.
"They're desire."
"Possible futures."
"Freedom."
The chamber felt colder.
Queen Bee whispered,
"He's explaining rebellion… to him."
Ra's al Ghul's eyes gleamed.
"No," he said quietly.
"He's explaining inevitability."
Lucifer's reaction sealed it.
The widening of his eyes.
The laugh.
The acknowledgment.
Lex Luthor leaned back, expression unreadable.
"The Devil didn't threaten him," Lex said.
"He came to listen."
Silence.
Then Clarion laughed nervously.
"Oh. That's bad."
Vandal Savage spoke at last.
"No," he corrected.
"That's catastrophic."
Because Lucifer didn't kill Damian.
Didn't recruit him.
Didn't warn him.
He recognized him.
And recognition, in cosmic terms, was an invitation.
PART II — A DEVIL TALKS AMONG GODS
Elsewhere.
Far beyond mortal surveillance.
Lucifer strolled through a realm that wasn't quite Heaven, Hell, or anywhere that obeyed linear concepts.
He spoke casually.
As if discussing weather.
The Endless listened.
Dream paused his writing.
Death smiled faintly.
Desire tilted their head, intrigued.
"I met a child today," Lucifer said.
Darkseid turned his massive gaze.
"A mortal?" the god of tyranny asked.
Lucifer chuckled.
"Technically."
The Presence did not speak.
That, too, was telling.
"He named a power after me," Lucifer continued.
"Not out of arrogance."
"But understanding."
Fate's book rustled.
"He understands freedom," Lucifer said.
"And consequence."
Darkseid frowned.
"Does he seek dominion?"
Lucifer shook his head.
"No."
"He seeks choice."
That drew interest.
Even from beings older than creation.
"He gave a god-level power away," Lucifer added.
"Because he knew he couldn't wield two truths at once."
Death finally spoke.
"What will you do?"
Lucifer smiled.
"Nothing."
"For now."
He looked toward Earth.
"Mortals who reject destiny without begging for permission…"
"Those are the ones who change everything."
The Endless understood.
Darkseid scowled.
Fate's book turned a page—without anyone touching it.
Lucifer laughed softly.
"Do keep an eye on Damian Wayne."
"I suspect the universe already is."