The Hateful: Downfall: The Hateful, #1

By Kieran McLoughlin

What does it mean to pursue a dream?
Lucifer Armedeus stares down towards a group of human protesters, knowing that they've all but condemned his race, dreaming of destroying the Divinity that created them.
And becoming the new god of his world.
Newman is the lieutenant charged with apprehending Lucifer and bringing him in. However, Newman has secrets of his own.
He's a traitor of their race, who dreams of uniting them with humanity.
Meanwhile, leading the protest Lucifer is about to sabotage, Diana Skagen dreams of becoming someone who can make the world a better place.
A dream which will put her on a collision course with the race she has been brought up to fear for almost her entire life.
The Hateful.
As their dreams intersect, all three of them will learn what it means to be hateful, and the price that must be paid in order to pursue a dream.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kieran McLoughlin
• Release date: Oct 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781739602925

Book preview

Kieran McLoughlin

The Hateful: Downfall

Copyright © 2022 by Kieran McLoughlin

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

ISBN: 9781739602925

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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Contents

Acknowledgement

1. A Message

2. Reality

3. The Lieutenant

4. The Dreamhouse

5. Questions

6. Investigation

7. A Familiar Voice

8. The Wall

9. The Place That Doesn’t Exist

10. Hela

11. The Monster Within

12. The Dream

13. Secrets

14. Heaven’s Gate

15. Empathy For The Cursed

16. The Captain

17. Stranger

18. Fear and Desire

19. Manipulations

20. Tobias Thorson

21. Realisations

22. Barbatos

23. One Action

24. Meltdown

25. The Priest

26. The Children Of The Hateful

27. Choices

28. Awakening

29. Korai

30. The Final Straw

31. The Truth

32. Battle For The Institute (Part 1)

33. Battle For The Institute (Part 2)

34. Aftermath

35. The Hearing

36. Mistakes

37. Destiny

38. Lessons

39. The Final Assignment

40. Chaos

41. The Final Truth

42. Clash Of Demons

43. Leader Of The Hateful

44. Facing The Past (And The Future)

Also by Kieran McLoughlin

Acknowledgement

Thank you to the amazing people who helped make this happen. From my beta readers Lex, Adam and Mat, to the likes of Nick and Jonathan for the editing, and to Alejandro for the beautiful cover design. None of this would’ve been possible without you. Thank you. I also wanted to thank my family and friends. It’s been quite the journey. You have all shaped and supported me to become the man I am today.

Finally, thank you, my dear reader, for taking a chance and reading my work. I appreciate every one of you. I hope you enjoy the story.

1

A Message

The humans of Exia gathered in the bustling market square as lightning and rain lashed across the sky, never realising that Hateful eyes were watching them.

But you will, soon enough…

His face was set like stone, seeking to contain his scorn for them. They were gathering to oppose the latest decree from the Divinity, the order that prayers to him were now mandatory. Of course, this only applied to humans, not to his kind. No, according to humanity, his kind were the reason behind all of this, the infamous Cursed Ones who brought suffering upon all who lived in Ethero.

And obviously, it’s our fault the Divinity blew the sun out of the sky too…

He cast his eyes to the vast black ocean above, clenching his fists in indignation. A few seconds passed, and he forced himself to focus on the raindrops streaming down his face, soothing him as he took in a breath.

You did it again. You almost let the voice win…

He turned his gaze to the gathering humans. There was a buzz among them, an excitement that was infectious. Aware of how this could affect him, he focused on his mission.

You bastards. You will know what it means to live as one of us. This time, you will hear my message.

He noticed a few humans gazing in his direction, bristling involuntarily in response. He forced himself to settle, lowering his body so that he knew they could not see him. Of course, he doubted they had seen him anyway, not while the streetlights shone on their faces like searchlights in a prison. Rather, what they were more likely to see were the metal talons that curved towards them, ready to fall upon them at any moment.

Metal comprised the entirety of Exia, its buildings like sections of a giant machine that had fallen centuries ago. Slick with wet alongside the smooth metal surfaces that ran through the city, they shone under the streetlights. The Rai District in which they stood was far rustier, shrouded with patches of bronze, a reflection of its poorer state compared to the other Districts. That meant nothing to him, however. Not when he looked back and cast his eyes towards the three great towers that rose beyond it all, residing at Exia’s epicentre. They represented more than just a few patches of rust. They represented the oppression that had led him to this moment. They represented—

Home, he thought, regarding those buildings with the same look he had given the humans, gritting his teeth as he fought himself from making the jump now, beginning his dream. Indignity gnawed at him as if he were a dog on a chain. Still, he forced himself to stay as he was; he needed to wait just a little longer. He needed to time this right. He would only get one opportunity.

‘I will show you all,’ he snarled, resolve building as he rose to his feet. ‘I will show you true defiance. You think that standing around and yelling pointless shit is going to change anything? Fools… There’s only one way we can end this, and it begins now…’

The rain continued to fall, indecisive between its desire to fall heavily or stay as little flurries. It appeared to settle between both. He was thankful for that. It brought him more focus, imagining it running down his long, silvery-blond hair, before trickling towards his pale, milk-white skin. Those two features were universal among his kind, symbols of their curse. Even his attire was synonymous with his race, which was why he had worn it today. It comprised a long black leather coat with silver buckles across the front, while his trousers and boots were of the same colours with silver etchings. It would evoke a response. Knowing that, he leaned forward, ready to begin his descent.

It is time, a voice spoke from within. However, he stopped himself at the last moment, spotting a young woman coming into view before the assembled crowd, holding a megaphone while standing on an elevated platform. At once curiosity took him, forcing him to reach a hand before himself, stopping his fall as he regarded her, watching as the crowd fell into silence.

And who are you? he wondered, finding himself keeping still. She was just as soaked as everyone else, her long brunette hair trickling across a ruby jacket before parting by her shoulders. Her figure was slim, and the rest of her clothes clung to her as though afraid of being torn away. What struck him most was her apparent fearlessness, her chin raised high as she surveyed her audience; his audience. She punched a defiant fist towards the sky, making the crowd erupt in a unified roar, raising their own fists in the air to match her stance.

‘DEFY THE DIVINITY! DEFY THE DIVINITY!’ they sang in unison, voicing themselves with such determination that he wondered if the Council could hear them all the way from Heaven’s Gate. Opportunity buzzed in his mind, urging him to hold off a little longer. He could make his impact even stronger if he waited a few more minutes. The voice suggested this to him. He needed the whole of Exia to hear. He wanted every single human to know his dream.

Meanwhile, the young woman prowled across the makeshift stage, fist still raised in the air.

You seem to enjoy this, he thought, a smile emerging on his face. It’s a shame I have to ruin your moment. Still, it must be done.

He watched her dropping her fist, raising the other hand that held the megaphone towards her mouth as the crowd fell into silence once again.

‘My friends,’ she began, ‘thank you so much for joining me tonight.’

Another roar of approval erupted from the crowd, yet he couldn’t help but smirk at her choice of words.

Tonight? As if a sun will rise tomorrow? he thought. For a moment, he tried to imagine what a sun above Exia would look like, imagining a beautiful orb of fire that gave warmth to all beneath it. He shuddered at the thought, urging him to wrap his arms around himself. He hadn’t realised how cold it was, but the rain had soaked his clothes, alongside the chilling breeze that swirled about him.

‘We all know the latest decree is ridiculous,’ the woman continued, her steps full of purpose, ‘But that’s not why we’re here. We’re here to protest against the Divinity himself.’

The crowd stirred, shifting in nervous anticipation, knowing that her words were bordering on sacrilege.

‘A concealed ruler who we never elected. A mysterious tyrant who assumes his authority as absolute. I ask you all now to utter the question that has been smouldering in our minds ever since we were born: Has anyone actually witnessed the Divinity? Can anyone stand on this stage and tell me they’ve seen the divine creator with their own eyes?’

The crowd was silent, stunned. Of course, both questions were rhetorical. No one had ever seen the Divinity, only the Council. Still, the Hateful man felt his skin prickle at the suggestion she was making. His hate returned once more, causing him to clench his fists.

‘My friends, we cannot continue to live this way. We must stand before the glowing radiance of the Angels, of the Council itself, and assert that we will not accept this anymore. That we should decide our own fate. Today, I ask you to voice the questions you harbour like I do: Why can’t we choose our own leaders? Why can’t we create our own laws? Why are we not allowed to choose how we live our lives?’

She paused again. The crowd said nothing. Even from his elevated position, he saw them all gawking at her. He felt the same way. Never had such questions been uttered, especially in public. A quick glance towards the three towers told him everything he needed, discounting every word she said.

I cannot allow this to stand. Her words, what she’s implying. If there was no Divinity, then…

‘It sounds so wrong,’ she said, silencing his mind. ‘Believe me, it feels wrong to even consider it, but I cannot deny the truth coming from my soul. I cannot help but ask these questions. Can anyone here confirm that the Divinity exists? Can anyone give evidence that the Divinity is real?’

‘I can,’ he murmured to himself, before proceeding to step off the ledge. At once, the chilly wind rushed past his body, causing his black coat to flutter behind him. Upon approaching the surface, he tapped into his power, the Blessing of a Physical. A surge of strength engulfed his body, enhancing his muscle density and size. By the time the alteration to his physique was complete, he landed behind the crowd with a loud clang, drawing their attention as they gasped in surprise. He rose to his feet, noticing that many had parted to leave a gap between him and the young woman, sneering disdainfully as they recognised what he was. None of that bothered him as lightning cracked across the sky. There was only one question he wanted to ask.

‘If the Divinity is not real,’ he began, allowing his Blessing to fade while his body returned to its normal shape, ‘how do you explain my kind?’

He regarded her intently as her green eyes looked at the floor in guilt. She had no answer for him, no justification that explained the hatred within all who surrounded them, condemning him along with his entire race.

‘So you have nothing to say,’ he summarised, before turning his gaze between both sides of the surrounding crowd. He stepped forward, standing tall in defiance, knowing that this was his only chance to send his message, to change the fate of his kind.

‘Cursed One!’ a member of the crowd spat, while their expressions grew more hostile. His body bristled with the desire to protect itself, an instinct he forced himself to hold as he returned his gaze back to the young woman. He opened his mouth to speak to her, but something struck him in the face. Stumbling forward as the crowd roared, he dropped to one knee, noticing shards of glass lying around him. He touched his face, seeing blood trickle onto his fingertips. Humiliation accompanied rage, and he ground his teeth as he stumbled to his feet, where he found the young woman standing in front of him. Surprise coming over him; he realised she was holding out her arms, appearing to shield him from her fellow humans.

‘Who did that?!’ she yelled, stunning him as he looked up towards her in confusion. She was furious. ‘He did nothing wrong!’

‘He’s one of the Cursed, Diana,’ a black man said, stepping a few paces ahead of her as his own body changed, his muscles growing larger while his clothes tore at the seams. Evidently to the Hateful man, he was a Physical. ‘Step aside.’

‘What? No!’ the young woman gasped in disbelief. He guessed she was Diana. ‘You can’t just—’

‘Diana,’ another woman interrupted flatly, stepping forward as her body became shrouded in layers of ice. In her right hand she formed an icicle-shaped blade, before gesturing towards the Hateful man. ‘His kind is the true reason we’re here. Why things have turned out this way.’

Diana regarded her in utter disbelief, not able to understand what she was hearing. ‘But we don’t know if that’s true,’ she said, her expression marred with guilt once more. ‘It’s no different from what we’re told about the Divinity.’

‘He said it himself, Diana,’ a third man said, stepping forward with his hands raised. His fingers twitched as everything around shifted and contorted in unnatural ways. The buildings warped and moved, while even the figures of the surrounding humans altered and changed. It was the power of an Illusionary. ‘If the Divinity didn’t exist, how do you explain his Cursed race?’

‘I can’t,’ Diana admitted, turning her gaze towards the Hateful man, ‘but we share the same enemy. We should work together.’

She hesitated, as though realising why such thoughts were nothing more than delusion. After all, thousands of years of history could not simply be erased. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said to the Hateful man, her tone more accepting. ‘I wish I knew more about your kind.’

‘So do I,’ he said, voicing his own acceptance, blood trickling down his face like tears. His expression hardened, focus and resolve emerging through the cloud of hate and sadness.

It is time…

‘Why did you come here?’ Diana asked, sadly, as he stopped in his advance. ‘If you knew how they were going to treat you.’

‘To send a message,’ he said, stepping past her as his three opponents’ expressions remained darkened. They despised him. He despised them. There was nothing more to it. Tonight, however, he would change that. He would propel his race towards a new destiny. Humanity was about to receive a message it would never forget. He tapped into his favoured Blessing as a Transformative, changing his left hand and forearm into a giant revolver, fixing it towards the woman shrouded in ice.

‘My name is Lucifer Armedeus. I will become the new god of this world.’

He fired, unleashing a powerful blast that drowned out all sound around them, before a gaping hole erupted in the woman’s chest. She coughed out blood before stumbling back a few steps, her Blessing fading as she dropped to her knees and glanced at her wound. She returned a mystified gaze towards Lucifer before finally falling back on the floor. The surrounding crowd erupted into hysteria, scattering in all directions in frenzied panic while their screams filled the sky. Their steps sounded like a stampede as the ground reverberated beneath them.

‘So, that’s what it feels like,’ Lucifer muttered to himself, regarding the fallen corpse as blood flowed slowly towards him, glancing up towards Diana and the two men who remained. ‘To kill a human… Now, there is no turning back.’

Inside, the voice laughed with glee, filling him with trepidation that fused with his growing sense of conviction, raising goosebumps on his skin.

The Divinity shall fall, it said, while Lucifer watched the two men alongside Diana, seeing their rage as they eyed their fallen comrade. You will change the fate of your race.

‘Yes,’ Lucifer said to himself, while the black man with the Physical Blessing stepped forward, his face fixed into an ugly snarl.

‘I’ll kill you,’ he growled, further strengthening his power as his muscles grew, evidence that he was tapping further into his Blessing. He launched himself at Lucifer, his gigantic steps pounding into the ground as he unleashed his battle cry. He was beyond rationalisation, which was why it shocked him when he ran into thin air, a mirage that faded as soon as he made contact. Confusion emerged from him, evidently forgetting the one difference that mattered between their races.

‘Face me! Cursed One!’ he bellowed, before the real Lucifer emerged a few feet away from him, appearing alongside where the Illusion had stood. He fixed his revolver towards the human, firing one shot. His expression was impassive as the large man fell. Then he turned towards the man with the Illusionary Blessing, who appeared to be trying to keep his composure despite having seen his two comrades die.

‘Such a trick won’t work on me, Cursed One,’ he spat, his voice riddled with fear, which Lucifer couldn’t help but relish.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘That’s why I won’t need to be subtle with you.’

He allowed his large revolver to fade as he raised his hand, tapping into another Blessing, which caused a small flame to ignite his entire hand. Recognition emerged on the Illusionary’s face as his eyes widened and his lips parted in fear. No doubt, he was thinking the same thing Lucifer was, that despite his power, all Illusionaries possessed the same weakness.

The power of the Elemental.

Lucifer swept his hand towards the floor, igniting everything before him. The Illusionary recoiled, but he had no chance of escape. The flames quickly enveloped his body as he fell back towards the floor, shrieking as he rolled across the surface, trying to douse the flames. Lucifer knew it was useless, and after a few moments, the Illusionary fell into silence, leaving nothing but the sound of crackling flames in his wake.

‘There will be no mercy,’ Lucifer said, more to himself than anyone else. He looked beyond and saw that no human remained before him. They had gone, flocking back to their homes within the city of metal. He could hear the whispers now as he allowed his Blessing to fade, the fear humanity always held towards his kind amplifying. They had always hated how his kind had access to all four of the Divinity’s Blessings. It was why he had punished them thousands of years ago.

Soon, I will punish him for what he’s done.

Only one human remained, and Lucifer turned to face her. He imagined what Diana saw while looking at him. He imagined seeing his Hateful appearance marred with streaks of blood while flames seethed behind him. Yet he saw no hatred in Diana’s eyes, only sorrow and sadness, asking a silent question.

Why?

‘I will end this,’ he said. ‘You asked whether the Divinity exists. Well, I’m here to show you he does, and that he will answer for what he’s done, just like the rest of your race.’

Her face twitched, but Diana remained in control of herself, instead shaking her head in disbelief.

‘So you’re seeking vengeance?’ she asked. ‘You want us to fear you, to regard you in the same way we do him?’

‘No, not like him,’ Lucifer retorted. ‘Sometimes, we must become the thing we despise most to bring about change. However, I will not become like him. I will be something more. I will change this world, and I will save my race.’

‘By becoming a god?’ Diana challenged, incredulous. ‘Do you really believe that will change anything, perpetuating the same cycle?’

‘I will not continue the cycle,’ Lucifer said, glaring at Diana. ‘As I proved today, my kind will stand for this no longer.’

He swept his hand towards the flames, as though to emphasise his point.

‘Today, we take fate into our own hands. We will not continue to live as this world wishes us to.’

‘You say we,’ Diana said, her face tightening, ‘yet all I see is you. Lucifer, you talk of the suffering and injustice your kind has suffered, but have you ever considered how we suffer? Have you ever considered the injustice we face every single day?’

For a moment, Lucifer considered that, surprised to hear a human call him by his name, rather than Cursed One. He considered how she had acted before, compared to her peers. For a reason he wasn’t sure of, he smiled.

‘You are the first human to show me kindness, Diana,’ he said, his tone respectful. ‘I didn’t think your kind was capable.’

‘Just like how I know all of your race isn’t Cursed?’ Diana said. Lucifer said nothing. Diana sighed, appearing very tired at that moment, shaking her head while bringing a hand towards it.

‘Do the roles reversing change anything?’ she asked, appearing to be asking herself the question before she lowered her hand, turning her gaze to Lucifer. ‘Are we to become the ones that are subjugated, while your kind dances in meadows of pretty flowers in warm sunshine?’

She paused, looking down towards the glistening metal surface.

‘Our lives aren’t as great as you think,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t justify what we’ve done, but we all suffer in some way. That’s just what it means to live in this world.’

Lucifer smiled, knowing. ‘Do you know what it’s like to be one of us?’ he asked, a hollowness emerging on his face. ‘You talk about how I should seek to understand human suffering, yet have you ever given a thought to ours? While you made your speech today, can you tell me you had my race in mind? Especially as you spoke about the injustices the Divinity has caused?’

He observed Diana as she appeared to consider his words. Seconds passed while the sounds of sirens filled the air. Lucifer decided then that enough was enough. He tapped into his Blessing as a Transformative as two black feathered wings emerged from his back, giving him the appearance of a dark angel.

‘It doesn’t have to be this way,’ he heard Diana mutter behind him. ‘By becoming the thing we hate, we repeat the cycle. You won’t make things better for your kind, Lucifer,’ Diana said, sounding tired.

‘But isn’t hate what defines us?’ he asked, not moving to look at her. ‘Isn’t that why we’re called Hateful?’

‘You don’t have to be defined by what they call you,’ Diana replied. Lucifer did not turn back, fascinated by her. She was different. She gave him much to think about.

It changes nothing, though. I have made my choice. Now, I will see it through.

‘You may be right, Diana,’ he admitted, listening as the sirens grew louder, approaching, ‘but I will end this. All of it. As long as the Divinity exists, my race will suffer. It has to end.’

Lucifer half-turned to face her, his mask restored once more. ‘I know you mean well, Diana, but I know you’re being something you’re not. I can smell the stench of Anubi all over you, especially in the way you speak. Don’t pretend that you can relate to these humans. You belong to a world that’s beyond even them.’

He shook his head before lowering his body, launching himself into the air, spinning in a series of spiral twists before opening his wings and taking flight. His dream had begun, but tonight he would face another dream.

A Hateful Dream.

2

Reality

Lucifer had seen this dream before. He sat on a giant throne, in a hall of white marble inlaid with gold inscriptions, decorated with patterns and designs he had never seen elsewhere. When he glanced to his right, he saw another throne alongside his own, while either side of them were golden bowls in which flames danced and flickered. Ahead, a group of people kneeled before him in silence. Whether they were Hateful or human, he wasn’t sure. They were always veiled, dressed in elegant silk gowns, never moving. Lucifer would sometimes wonder if they even breathed, staring at them with concern, wondering if this was what he truly wanted. As he considered this, he observed the rest of the room, noting its rows of solid stone columns. It reminded him of Heaven’s Gate in Greyr, but there was one major difference between it and this place: the tendril of darkness that twisted between the stone columns.

It was a strange entity, if one could even call it that, like a long formless basilisk, never once breaking away from its established path. Yet its presence filled him with anxiety, because it was the first sign that she was coming. At once, Lucifer rose to his feet, wondering where she was. He then walked down a few steps from his throne, hearing a soft hum in the air, followed by the heavenly singing of a choir, a beautiful sound, a sweet lullaby that disguised sinister intent. Its purpose was to sedate him, compel him to sit back and relax, revel in the dream. That was how Hateful Dreams got you. They presented a gripping fantasy, granting you your greatest wishes, hiding among your deepest fears. Knowing this, Lucifer stepped onto the flat marble surface, one question remaining on his mind.

Where is she?

His subjects were still kneeling, their faces shrouded in golden masks that betrayed little. Once he was close enough, they would disappear like shimmers in water. Knowing this didn’t prevent the shudder of fear that arose once he watched them go. Nothing remained but the marble columns and the shadow that moved in between them. Even the thrones were gone. Amid the gentle hum of the choir, Lucifer was sure there was something else, a faint chuckling. By instinct, he held out his right hand and tried to tap into one of his Blessings, knowing that they never worked here. He was at the mercy of the dream.

‘I know you’re there,’ he said, tensing as he noticed the flames taking on a violet and crimson tinge, while the shadow stirred beyond. Lucifer bristled in anticipation, bracing himself for what was coming.

‘Come out,’ Lucifer provoked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice as he focused ahead. ‘The dream always ends the same way.’

‘Does it now?’ a male voice retorted, paralysing Lucifer as his lips parted in awed recognition. He had never heard it in his dreams before, but there was no denying what it was. Its tone was unmistakable.

It was the voice from within.

Upon realising this, Lucifer willed himself to relax, struggling to manage the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. He squeezed his fists in defiance, baring his teeth as he forced himself to step forward.

‘I will face you!’ he said. ‘I will become a god!’

Little eased him as he moved, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him. Again, he tried to call upon his power, watching as a new being formed a few feet away from him. It was a muscular male figure, one with milk-white skin like his own, except that crimson markings marred it like tattoos. A violet and crimson flame enveloped his frame while his long hair flickered upward in the same colours, as though gravity no longer applied to it. Lucifer felt nothing but terror as it stepped towards him, its beaming red eyes regarding him.

‘Will you now?’ the being said, its mouth unmoving despite speaking with the voice’s tone. ‘An interesting choice of words that you always seem to fall back on.’

The being paused, staring knowingly.

‘Tell me,’ the voice said, ‘do you use them to conceal your fear?’

The being gestured to its right, revealing the woman Lucifer had expected. She moved with elegant poise, placing one foot just beyond the other while making her way towards Lucifer. Her legs revealed themselves with each step, unveiling beautiful tanned skin. Her body was shrouded in a single piece of white silk, stretching over her forehead as a hood, appearing much like the subjects had before. It was a meagre covering, leaving a gap in the middle that failed to conceal her sex, barely covering her breasts. In her left hand, she held a golden key, while her face was hidden behind a golden mask covered in intricate black patterns.

‘You,’ Lucifer said, not disguising his disdain as his eyes flickered between the being and her. If such a response bothered her, she didn’t show it, continuing to step towards him as though she were unhurried. That was understandable. After all, they were in her realm.

‘No, not her realm,’ the voice said, turning Lucifer’s attention back to him. ‘Mine…’

The woman reached Lucifer and moved in a seductive dance, using him to spin and pivot while drawing herself closer. Her hands brushed his neck, while the inside of her thighs almost touched his sides. She even seemed to gasp in pleasure when she brought her face closer to his, yet Lucifer willed himself to focus on the manifestation standing just beyond them. She always did this, and she always changed afterward.

‘What are you?’ he asked, addressing the being before him.

‘Someone who has been watching you,’ it said. ‘Waiting.’

‘Waiting for what?’ Lucifer asked.

The being smiled. ‘To finally make the choice, to destroy him,’ it said.

Lucifer didn’t need to ask who him was. It was obvious. Whoever the being was, whoever the voice was, they shared the same goal.

But why do I tremble in his presence?

Lucifer turned his gaze towards the woman, standing in front of him with one hand clutched onto his jacket while the other grasped the key.

‘Who are you?’ he asked her in a whisper. The woman didn’t reply, only continuing to stare at him as though he awed her. It was the prelude to her transformation. Soon, that key would turn into a knife. All around them, wisps of violet and crimson circled them, while the being stepped forward, holding out his arms.

‘Your ascension,’ it said, stepping to Lucifer’s right side. ‘And where I correct my mistake.’

Lucifer turned his gaze back towards the woman, noting that her elegant white dress became a tattered black, while her once perfect skin tore and bled. Blood trickled from the bottom of her mask like thick red tears, while in her outstretched hand she held the golden knife. This was always how she changed. This was always how the dream ended.

‘It begins now,’ the being said, his voice a faint whisper.

‘It begins now,’ Lucifer repeated, and then the woman plunged the blade deep into his chest.

Lucifer awoke afterward, the absolute whiteness of his dream replaced by a room that was scantly lit by the light that penetrated through his curtains.

My room, he thought, relieved because of this, settling back on his bed before realising that he had been sweating, his sheets cold and damp. Lucifer threw his quilt away from his body, swinging his legs to his left so that he was sitting by the edge of his bed, hunched forward and exhausted. He stayed there for a few minutes, resting his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. He contemplated trying to sleep again, before choosing against it and rising to his feet. His dream would not wait for him.

Is it my dream, though? Or his?

Lucifer considered that, remembering when the voice first emerged. Originally, he had taken it as his own, whispering his desires. The more he listened to it, however, the more he realised it was something else, something that existed within. Until today, it had never shown a physical form.

I wish I could ask Ven about it, he thought, ruing Hela’s decision to send her away. Lucifer then wondered why Hela had not visited him. Surely she knew what he had done? He didn’t doubt that humanity would talk about him now, yet his mind still lingered on Ven, desiring her comforting presence and her listening ear. The voice was growing and changing. He understood that now.

But what does it mean? he wondered. What does it want?

If you’re already beginning to question me, the voice said, speaking as though it had been listening to his thoughts, listen to the symphony surrounding you. Listen as your kind suffers…

Lucifer heard them, a chorus of agonised moaning, accompanied by a cacophony of walls being struck like booming drums. Knowing where this would lead, he stepped towards the wardrobe, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him as he held out his arms for balance. Time was short. If the noise continued, it would set off all the Hateful within the tower. Lucifer moved, putting on his clothes before heading towards the door and stepping out of his room.

He emerged into a dimly lit corridor, whose candles always appeared on the verge of guttering out. They never did. Not wishing to waste a second, Lucifer steered himself to the right, not doubting who had begun all the noise. A few doors down, his suspicions were confirmed, as he heard the source of the moaning accompanying the struck walls. Listening for a