The morning sun peeked through the broken roof of the small, forgotten church. Its golden light stretched across the old wooden pews and crumbling stone floor. The air inside was a mix of damp earth, aged wood, and something faintly sweet—like flowers growing wild outside the walls. Birds began to chirp, their songs clear and hopeful.
Lucifer slowly opened his eyes. For the first time in what felt like forever, his body didn't feel like it was weighed down by chains. The pain was still there—aches in his bones, a faint burning where the Mark of Cain had once sat—but it wasn't crushing. It didn't own him anymore.
Jack sat a few feet away, leaning back against a pillar, his gaze focused on the sky through the hole in the ceiling. He looked calm but ready, like he knew anything could happen but wasn't afraid of it.
Lucifer sat up with effort. His muscles protested. He felt older somehow, not in age, but in memory—like a man who'd finally put down a burden after walking across the world with it on his back.
"You stayed," he said, his voice rough, like someone who hadn't used it in days.
Jack looked over and smiled softly. "Yeah. You needed someone."
Lucifer tried to laugh, but it came out like a sigh. "Not sure I earned that."
"You don't have to earn kindness," Jack said. "You just have to accept it. Let it in. That's how people start to change."
Lucifer turned his head, staring out at the light pouring in. His eyes glistened. It had been so long since he'd let himself feel this much—guilt, sorrow, hope. Last night, something in him had cracked open. Instead of pushing it down like always, he let it happen.
Far away, in a heavily protected bunker lit with blue runes and lines of salt, John Harrison sat in front of a glowing screen. A map blinked beneath his fingertips, showing strange pulses in the supernatural field. One of those pulses—steady and calming—told him everything had changed.
Selene StoneHeart stood beside him, arms folded, eyes serious. She had a quiet strength about her, the kind that didn't need words to be felt.
"You've got that look," she said, "like something huge just happened."
John didn't look away from the screen. "Lucifer's different. Jack helped him. The Mark is gone."
She raised one eyebrow. "And we're just supposed to trust that?"
John exhaled slowly. "I don't trust Lucifer. But I trust Jack. If he says his father is changing, that's enough to stay alert, not attack."
Selene walked closer and gently put a hand on his arm. "Then we stay alert. Together."
John looked at her and smiled a little. "Always."
They stood like that for a moment, the hum of machines around them, the world outside calm for now.
"I'm not letting you carry this alone," Selene said, her voice firm. "Whatever comes next, I'm with you."
John nodded. "You and me, Selene. No matter what."
Back in the church, Lucifer stepped outside into the wet grass. Dew clung to his bare feet. He tilted his head toward the sun and let its warmth soak into his skin. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. It didn't burn. It didn't feel like punishment. It felt real. Kind.
He spoke barely above a whisper, the words carried by the breeze, "I'll make this right. I promise."
The wind moved through the trees like a quiet answer. Birds sang above him. The sky stretched wide and bright.
Lucifer didn't know exactly what lay ahead. But for once, he wanted to face it—not as a villain, not as a god—but as a man trying to heal.
And maybe that was enough to start again.