Lucifer's luck, or perhaps the efficiency of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s cleanup crew, finally turned.
After an hour of trekking through the rugged terrain, they hit a seldom-used logging road.
Within minutes, Lucifer's system, utilizing his low-level resources, pinged an older model pickup truck driven by a weary long-haul driver heading west.
Lucifer didn't waste his charm. He used a sliver of the cash from his last delivery and a convincingly urgent story about a broken-down corporate courier vehicle, and they secured a ride all the way to the outskirts of San Francisco.
During the entire ride, Natasha remained vigilant, though silent.
The mercenaries hadn't reappeared, confirming Lucifer's suspicion that S.H.I.E.L.D. had finally dispatched a cleanup team—likely a specialized asset like Hawkeye—to deal with the witnesses and the residual threat.
They arrived in San Francisco under the cover of a dense coastal fog.
Lucifer completed the final leg of the delivery alone, entering a discreet, high-security building near the bay.
The exchange was smooth and silent; the 'collector' verified the data card and immediately transferred the funds.
[Side-Quest Completed: The Sanctuary]
[Objective: Deliver the secure data card to the San Francisco collector.]
[Reward Received: $40,000 Bonus]
[Current Funds: $341,980 Credits]
Lucifer felt the deep satisfaction of the completed mission and the substantial deposit.
His primary goal was always the currency, stability, and the ultimate Gold Rank.
He met Natasha outside the building.
The sun was beginning to burn through the fog, illuminating the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.
"The delivery is done, Agent Romanoff,"
Lucifer stated, his voice ringing with finality.
"My contract is fulfilled. I'm going home."
Natasha smiled, a small, genuine-looking curl of her lip that Lucifer knew meant absolute danger.
"Not quite, Morningstar. Your contract with Stark might be complete, but my audit isn't."
She stepped closer, her speed instantaneous, and placed a highly advanced, vibrating pressure cuff around Lucifer's wrist before he could even blink.
He felt a sharp, focused wave of Restraining Intent through his Basic Empathy.
"Your field takes five minutes to recharge after an extreme load, and I've watched you fight. I know your limits,"
She whispered, her voice low and confident.
"You're coming with me to the nearest S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical base. We need to run some classifications, starting with how you bypassed three layers of government security and what you know about the new element."
Lucifer didn't struggle. He knew, realistically, he couldn't win a sustained, non-lethal fight against the Black Widow on a crowded street, especially with his shield still recovering from the last engagement.
He sighed, the exhaustion of the past forty-eight hours finally settling in.
"You really think kidnapping a consultant is going to look good on your performance review, Agent Romanoff?"
Lucifer asked, his voice dripping with tired cynicism.
"It will look excellent,"
She replied, pulling him toward a waiting unmarked vehicle.
Lucifer allowed himself to be placed in the back of the car. Natasha sat beside him, the silent driver an obvious operative.
The cuff on his wrist was designed to disrupt any attempt to channel power.
As they sped toward the tactical base, Lucifer pulled his flip phone out of his jacket pocket.
"Mind if I make a quick call?"
He asked, holding the phone up.
Natasha's hand shot out like a viper, snatching the phone before he could even open the clamshell.
"No calls. You're off the grid for the duration of the debrief,"
She said, pocketing the device.
"Standard operating procedure, Mr. Morningstar."
Lucifer looked out the window, his expression impassive. He hadn't needed the call.
He had simply wanted to give her one last chance to choose the path of sanity.
He knew Raven.
After the intensity of their training, she would have sensed the moment the plane went down, felt the subsequent danger, and definitely felt the sheer Frustration and Trapped that Lucifer was currently emanating.
The lack of a call—the confirmation of his ongoing safety—would be interpreted by the fiercely protective, semi-unstable daughter of Trigon as Immediate Hostile Abduction.
Lucifer closed his eyes. He didn't have to imagine Raven's rage; he could sense it, a seismic shift in the emotional atmosphere thousands of miles away.
It felt like a hurricane of violet energy being uncorked.
He genuinely disliked Natasha.
She was calculating, manipulative, and valued organizational goals over human life.
He felt no remorse for what was about to happen.
Let Fury deal with the paperwork on this one.
"Agent Romanoff,"
Lucifer said quietly, opening his eyes and looking at her.
"You should have let me call my roommate. She gets nervous when I'm late."
Natasha simply gave him an arrogant, dismissive smile, completely missing the genuine terror in his warning.
"She can wait, Morningstar."
Lucifer leaned back against the seat, preparing himself for the inevitable explosion of chaos that only an angry, guilt-suppressed demon's daughter could provide.
"I tried to warn you,"
He murmured.
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