"Hey, watch those eggs for me," he said, unable to resist the setup. He kept his tone light, joking. "I'll just go put some clothes on. Who knows, maybe they'll hatch before I get back."
Lucifer's eyes flew wide open. She looked from him to the eggs and back again, genuine panic flashing across her features. "What should I do if they hatch," she asked, her voice tense, "and you are still not here?"
Look at her expression, he thought, a grin spreading across his face. It's fucking priceless.
He chuckled, shaking his head as he walked out of the kitchen and down the short hallway to his bedroom. He figured he should dress properly, even if his guest was from a time before thread and seemed to view him less as a person and more as a fascinating, ignorant primate.
As he pushed his bedroom door open, the reality of his empty fridge hit him again. "Arghh!" he groaned to the empty room, running a hand through his messy hair. "I should've remembered there were only two eggs left. I wish I could just duplicate them or something. I'm so hungry I might have to let her have both."
He had no idea that the walls of his small house were no barrier for Lucifer's preternatural hearing. In the kitchen, Lucifer's ears twitched subtly at the sound of his voice. She glanced toward the hallway, then looked back at the two pale eggs on the counter, her brow furrowed in thought.
He desires more of these eggs? But he himself warned me they might hatch. Should I take the risk and create more? I could always eliminate the creatures if they emerge before he returns.
Then she replayed his last, muttered sentence. I might just let her eat all of them.
Her thoughts stalled. But... he is prioritizing my nourishment over his own?
A slow, confident smile touched her lips. I mean, is there anything in this realm I cannot subdue?
Decision made, Lucifer reached out and carefully picked up one of the eggs. She cradled it in her palm. Her irises began to glow with a soft, golden light, like sunlight seen through honey. She held her other hand a few inches above it, fingers curled as if gripping an invisible object. Then, with a gentle, pulling motion, she performed an act of impossible creation.
From the surface of the existing egg, she pulled another. It was as if she were drawing it forth from the same space, a perfect, seamless duplication. The new egg materialized fully formed in her waiting hand.
Lucifer looked at the two identical eggs now in her hands, her smile blooming into one of pure, delighted success.
She did it again. Placing one egg down, she took the other and repeated the motion. A gentle pull, a soft shimmer of light, and a third egg appeared.
And again.
And again.
In his bedroom, the man was finally pulling a faded band t-shirt over his head. He yanked on a pair of shorts and turned to leave, but his gaze caught on the framed photograph on his dresser. He walked over and picked it up. It wasn't just a picture of him in the nice clothes. Standing beside him, an arm thrown around his shoulders, was his childhood best friend, both of them grinning without a care. A familiar, bittersweet smile touched his lips.
The smile vanished, replaced by confusion, as a distinct crack echoed from the kitchen. It wasn't the sound of an egg breaking. It was different, sharper, like the snap of static electricity.
What the hell is she doing now?
He set the frame down and hurried out of the room. He found Lucifer standing at the counter, her back to him, one hand held out. As he entered, he saw her make that same gentle pulling motion in the air. Another egg popped into existence in her grasp with a soft pop.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief.
He walked around the counter to face her, his eyes sweeping over the kitchen surface. The two eggs he had left were now eight. They sat in a small, precarious cluster.
Lucifer slowly looked up at him, her expression one of immense pride. "I created more eggs," she announced, beaming. "So now the two of us can eat as much as we desire."
He stared at the eggs, then at her. His brain struggled to process what his eyes had just seen. "How did you do that?" he asked, his voice low with wonder. He needed to hear her say it.
"It is simple," she said, as if explaining that water was wet. "One of my innate abilities is to create anything I wish." She tilted her head, her glowing irises fading back to their normal blue. "Would you like me to prove it again?"
"Yeah," he said, the word coming out in a breath. Seeing it once still wouldn't convince me, he reasoned, his mind reeling. I need to see it again. I have to.
Lucifer's smirk returned, full of confident mischief. Her eyes began to glow once more, a brighter, more deliberate gold this time. She carefully selected one of the new eggs and held it up between them, cradling it in both hands. She met his gaze, held it for a dramatic second, and then performed the miracle.
With that same effortless, pulling gesture, she drew a second, perfect egg from the first. It separated from the original with a quiet, solid pop, like a soap bubble detaching.
The man's jaw went slack. His eyes widened so much they almost hurt. "WOAH!" he exclaimed, the sound bursting out of him. "THAT IS SO COOL!" The praise was instinctive, pure, childlike amazement.
"See?" Lucifer laughed, the sound bright and unguarded. She loved the look on his face, the unadulterated wonder. It was better than any worship she could remember.
"Yeah! I believe you now!" he said, laughing a little himself in sheer disbelief. Caught up in the moment, he reached out and patted her head twice, a casual, friendly gesture he might use with a teammate who'd done something great.
The moment his fingers touched her hair, the atmosphere shifted.
Lucifer stopped laughing. Her glowing eyes fixed on him. The eggs, forgotten in her hands, tumbled to the linoleum floor with a sickening, wet crunch. Yellow yolk seeped across the tiles.
He froze. His hand snapped back to his side as if burned. He took a full step backward, his own hands coming up in a universal gesture of surrender. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, his voice tight. "I didn't mean to. It's just a habit. A stupid habit."
Lucifer simply stared at him, her head tilting slowly to one side. Her expression was unreadable, but it felt intense, like the calm before a storm.
The silent staredown lasted for several long seconds, each one stretching out in the yolk-scented air.
Then, Lucifer finally burst out laughing. It was a rich, genuine sound that filled the small kitchen. "Why do you look so nervous, human?" she asked, her eyes dancing with teasing delight.
"I just thought... you might do something because I touched you," he admitted, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.
Lucifer laughed again, shaking her head. "I would never attempt to harm you," she said, her laughter subsiding into a warm smile. "You are the first human I have properly met here. And you will likely be the last human I choose to be with."
The man offered a half-hearted, complicated smirk in return. Her words felt weighted, carrying a loneliness that mirrored his own in a way he couldn't quite grasp. To break the sudden depth of the moment, he bent down and carefully started gathering the unbroken eggs from the counter.
"Well," he said, his voice returning to something like normal. "It's getting late. We should actually cook these things before they... you know, spontaneously multiply again. Let's have breakfast."
Cain opened the front of the stove, the click of the igniter making Lucifer flinch slightly. He placed a pan on the burner, poured in a little oil, and watched it shimmer. Then he took the remaining eight eggs and began cracking them one by one into a bowl. The sharp tap-tap-crack was a rhythmic, domestic sound. He grabbed a fork and started whisking, the yellow yolks and clear whites blending into a uniform pale yellow. He was making scrambled eggs, something simple and filling.
He did all of this under Lucifer's watchful gaze. She stood a few feet away, her eyes glinting with a mixture of happiness and intense curiosity, following every movement of his hands as if he were performing a sacred ritual.
He glanced over at her, seeing her rapt attention. He raised an eyebrow. "You wanna ask something?"
Lucifer's face immediately lit up. "So, in order to blend in with humans, I must set my nourishment on fire?" she asked, pointing at the blue gas flames licking the bottom of the pan.
Cain chuckled, pouring the egg mixture into the hot pan. It sizzled loudly. "It's called cooking," he explained, using a spatula to gently push the curds around. "Some foods can be eaten raw, like fruit. But others, like these eggs or meat, taste better and are safer if you cook them. It changes them. Makes them… more."
"I see," Lucifer said, nodding as if filing away vital intelligence. "Then, may I observe you complete the cooking process for these eggs?"
He nodded, focusing on the pan. He kept glancing at her as he worked. She was completely engrossed, leaning in slightly to watch the liquid eggs solidify into soft, fluffy clouds. The simple, homely scene felt surreal with her in it.
Just as the eggs were nearly done, the peaceful moment was shattered by a loud, brash electronic ringtone. Lucifer jumped, her body snapping into a defensive posture. Her head swiveled, searching for the threat.
"What is that sound?!" she demanded, her voice sharp. "Are we under attack?"
"Calm down," Cain said quickly, turning the stove off and moving the pan to a cold burner. "That's just my phone." He pointed across the counter to where the device was buzzing and vibrating.
Lucifer stared at the ringing object, her alarm shifting back to curiosity. "Oh. What is a 'phone'? Why is it emitting a battle cry?"
Cain sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. He was getting used to these fundamental explanations. "Humans use phones as a tool to communicate with other people who are far away," he said, walking over to it. "It makes that sound to tell me someone wants to talk to me through the phone. Understand?"
"A long-distance communication talisman," Lucifer murmured, fascinated. "Fascinating."
He picked up the phone and swiped the screen. "Hello?"
A woman's voice, crisp and professional, came through the speaker. "Good morning, Cain."
Even though Cain was several steps away, Lucifer's preternatural hearing picked up every word clearly. Her eyebrows shot up.
"Your name is Cain?" she blurted out, surprised.
The woman on the phone heard the female voice and gave a light, knowing chuckle. "I didn't know you had company this morning. May I ask if it's your partner?"
Lucifer looked at Cain and smirked, a playful, knowing look in her eyes. She could already guess he would try to deflect and not use her real name.
"No, ma'am," Cain began, "it's just a woman that I—"
Thwip.
A strange, almost imperceptible sensation tickled the back of his mind. His mouth moved on its own. "—it's Lucifer, ma'am."
Cain blinked, utterly confused. Why had he just said that? He hadn't meant to.
"Oh, Lucifer, huh?" the woman replied, sounding amused. "What a nice name. Anyway, the reason I called is I'd like you to come to the office tomorrow. I want to talk a few things over with you."
"Alright, ma'am," Cain said, recovering his composure. "See you tomorrow."
He ended the call and placed the phone back on the counter with a soft click. He turned to look at Lucifer, who was smiling at him with an expression of pure innocence.
"Did you hear what I said on the phone?" he asked, his voice low with shock. He reached up and touched his own throat, as if checking for wires. "I just blurted your name out. I didn't mean to."
Lucifer looked at him, her face shifting to a mask of serious concern. "Yeah, I heard. I wonder how that could have happened." She paused, then leaned forward. "Anyway, is your name truly Cain?"
Cain raised an eyebrow, dropping his hand from his neck. "Yeah, it is. Same as the Cain in the Bible. My parents must have had a sense of humor, or maybe they just liked the sound of it." He shrugged, trying to shake off the weird feeling.
"I see," Lucifer said, her smile returning. She deftly changed the subject, her eyes drifting to the pan. "So, can we now consume the eggs you cooked?"
"Oh! Right, yeah, I almost forgot." Cain snapped back to the present.
He pulled two plates from the cupboard and set out a spoon and fork for each of them. He scooped steamed rice onto both plates, then carefully divided the fluffy mound of scrambled eggs, making sure the portions were even. He carried the plates to the small kitchen table and gestured for Lucifer to sit.
Cain sat down and picked up his spoon. He scooped up a bit of egg and rice, then carefully blew on it several times, the steam dispersing. He was mindful of the heat.
Lucifer, however, was too excited for her first real taste of prepared human food. She mimicked his motion, scooped a large spoonful, and immediately put it in her mouth.
Her reaction was instantaneous. Her eyes flew wide open, and she made a pained, stifled sound. She quickly turned her head and spat the mouthful back onto her plate, fanning her mouth with her hand. "It is volcanic!" she complained, her tongue visibly stung. "Why did you not warn me?"
Cain couldn't help but smile in amusement. "I tried to show you. You're supposed to blow on your food first. It cools it down." To demonstrate, he scooped another spoonful from his plate, blew on it gently for a few seconds, and then, on an impulse, extended the spoon across the table toward her. "Here. See? Safer."
Lucifer looked from the spoon to his face, one eyebrow lifted in suspicion. "What is your intention with this gesture?"
"I just want to prove a point. My arm's getting tired, come on."
Hesitantly, Lucifer closed her eyes and leaned forward. She took the offered bite from his spoon. She chewed slowly, and her eyes opened, lighting up with genuine pleasure. "The sensation in my mouth is magnificent from the sustenance you prepared!" she announced, still chewing happily.
Cain's smile softened. "Good. Now, do what I did. Blow on it first. Like this." He demonstrated again with an exaggerated puff of air.
Lucifer nodded, her expression turning studious. She carefully scooped a smaller portion, brought it to her lips, and blew a soft, precise stream of air over it. She repeated the action a few times, then took a tentative bite. A look of triumph crossed her face. She had done it.
Satisfied, Cain turned his attention to his own plate. The two of them began to eat their breakfast in a companionable, if unusual, silence.
As they finished the last bites of their breakfast, a comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the clink of cutlery. Cain's curiosity, however, had been simmering. He pushed his empty plate forward a little, the question finally forming.
"So, if you really are Lucifer," he began, his tone casual but probing, "why are you here? According to every church story I've ever heard, you're supposed to be in Hell. Running the place."
Lucifer took a final, delicate sip of water before answering. "I escaped," she said simply. "I was experiencing a profound and relentless boredom."
"What's so boring about running Hell?" Cain asked, leaning back in his chair. "Seems like it would be a full time job."
"It is repetitive," Lucifer explained, a hint of weariness in her voice. "The process is always the same. A soul arrives. I converse with it. I draw out its confessions, every hidden sin and regret. Then, based on the weight of those sins, I make a judgement. They either remain in Hell to experience an eternity crafted from their own guilt and pain, or I delete them. Erase them from existence entirely. Cycle after cycle. It lacks… novelty."
Cain nodded slowly, processing this. He placed his spoon and fork neatly on his empty plate. Another question, darker and more personal, surfaced in his mind.
"Since you're talking about erasing souls," he said, his voice a bit quieter, "what kind of sins earn that? What does someone have to do to get completely wiped out? Just curious."
The more I hear her talk, he thought, the harder it is to dismiss this. She might actually be telling the truth.
Lucifer looked at him, her head tilting with a faintly confused expression.
Is he inquiring for a personal audit? she wondered. Does he wish to see if his own name is on the list?
He noticed her strange look. She's looking at me really weird. Did I ask something wrong?
Lucifer let out a soft sigh, as if resigning herself to giving a lesson. "Well, for a soul to be erased from existence, a human must have committed at least one of the cardinal violations. Crimes against 'small humans.' The killing of a truly innocent person. Using the name of God for vanity, deceit, or personal gain. Wielding power with the explicit purpose of corrupting others. Theft on a scale that devastates lives." She paused, her gaze intent. "And lastly, a human who is fully aware of their own sinful nature, yet chooses to repeat those sins endlessly, without remorse or attempt to change."
Small humans? Cain thought. She means crimes against children? That's… actually kind of cool. So child rapists and traffickers just get deleted. Good.
Lucifer smirked slightly, finishing the last of her water and carefully mimicking Cain by placing her own utensils neatly on her plate. "So," she said, her tone light but edged, "I assume you have not done at least one of the things I have stated, correct? Because, now that I am here, I could simply erase you from history. As if you had never existed at all."
Cain scoffed, then laughed, a single, sharp burst of sound. "Fuck you," he said, the words slipping out with reflexive, humorous indignation. "Do I look like a child molester to you?"
The moment the phrase left his lips, his brain caught up. His eyes went wide.
Oh shit.
He panickingly stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I am so sorry," he blurted out, his hands coming up in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean to curse at you. It's just an expression. A really bad one. I apologize."
Lucifer watched his frantic apology, her head tilting to the other side in pure bewilderment.
Why is he panicking? What does the phrase 'fuck you' signify in human language?
"Have you said something harmful to me?" she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.
Cain looked away, scratching the back of his neck, his face flushed. "Kinda. Yeah. It's considered very rude."
"So," Lucifer reasoned, her logic terrifyingly straightforward, "do you wish for me to kill you now, because you have said something harmful to me?"
"No!" Cain said quickly, turning back to her. "Absolutely not. I am apologizing so that you won't do that. The apology is supposed to fix it."
Lucifer nodded slowly, as if filing this social rule away in a new mental folder labeled 'Human Conflict Resolution.' "I understand. If it were my sister Michael in my position, she would have eradicated you the moment you uttered the harmful phrase. But you need not fear. I am not her."
Cain slowly sat back down, the tension easing from his shoulders. He touched the back of his head again, a nervous habit. "Aren't angels supposed to be, like, the purest, best things ever created? So why does an angel—or a former angel—keep throwing around the word 'kill'? Isn't 'thou shalt not kill' one of the big ten rules?"
Lucifer looked at him, an expression of profound awkwardness crossing her features, as if he'd asked why the sky wasn't made of wool. "You should read the Bible," she said flatly. "The actual text. Then you would understand what angels truly are."
Intrigued, Cain gathered their plates and carried them to the sink. He turned on the faucet. "Why don't you just tell me? While I wash up."
Lucifer watched the water stream into the sink. "It is simple," she said. "Angels, specifically Archangels, are the warriors of the heavens. Their primary task is not to sing or to comfort. It is to eliminate all things that obstruct the ways of heaven. They are also charged with recapturing escaped souls and demons from Hell. They are soldiers. Executioners. That is their design."
Cain's hands stilled in the soapy water. His eyebrows furrowed as he replayed her words. Escaped souls and demons from Hell.
He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. "Aren't you one of those escaped… entities?"
Lucifer met his gaze, then looked away, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "… Yes."
He immediately shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and dried his hands, his movements quick. "Does that mean I'm going to get… cooked, too, if they find you here? Am I guilty by association?"
"I am reasonably certain Michael will not cook you," Lucifer said, her tone attempting to be reassuring. "Consuming humans is not among her hobbies, I believe. And since I am a fallen angel, my celestial signature is more difficult for her to trace than it would be for me to find hers. She will have a challenging time locating me."
"But if she does find you," Cain pressed, leaning against the counter, "would you fight her?"
"Yes," Lucifer answered without hesitation.
"Would you lose?"
A slow, confident smile spread across Lucifer's face. It wasn't arrogant; it was the calm certainty of an ancient, fundamental truth.
"Nah," she said. "I'd win."