Five hours of waiting in LUX dragged like an eternity stretched by viscous time. Alex sat motionless, a statue in the bar's dim glow. Shadows lengthened, the jazz faded to silence filled only by the whispers of lingering patrons and the clink of glasses being cleared. Outside, Los Angeles' night paled, giving way to a cold, ashen dawn. That's when the door opened soundlessly, and He stepped in.
Lucifer Morningstar. Even without the countless descriptions and legends, his aura betrayed him. He was paradoxical elegance fused with ancient power. Snow-white, impeccably styled hair contrasted with bronzed skin and features carved like a classical god's. His Prada suit—deep burgundy with razor-sharp piping—accentuated a lean, almost serpentine frame. He glided into the room, his presence flooding the space like a spotlight snapping on. The last patrons scurried out under his distracted yet all-seeing gaze. Maze, behind the bar, froze, her posture unnaturally rigid—not fear, but absolute attention.
Lucifer approached the bar, his eyes—deep chocolate with flickers of eternal flame—locking onto Alex.
"Lucifer, I presume," Alex said, his voice hoarse from hours of silence but unyielding.
"Delightful to know my reputation still precedes me," Lucifer replied, settling onto the stool beside Alex with a casual gesture for Maze to pour something strong. "Though usually, when people realize who I am, they're either on their knees or speechless. You… you're different. From the moment you walked in."
Alex brushed aside the pleasantries like useless clutter.
"What do you know about Darkseid?"
The air in the bar thickened instantly. Maze let out a faint gasp, her fingers gripping the counter's edge. Lucifer's smile widened, sharpened, stripped of its earlier playful irony. A chill of endless winter crept into it.
"Oh," he drawled, accepting a glass of dark amber liquid from Maze. "Straight to the point. Intriguing. But why assume I know anything about… that?" He took a small sip, eyes never leaving Alex.
Alex didn't waste words. He pulled a folded paper from his trench coat's inner pocket and placed it on the polished counter. His finger jabbed at a line: P$@4175KPOFl.!
"Because my future self sent my present self this letter, directing me to you." His voice was steel. "That leaves two possibilities. One: you're a potential ally against him. Two: you have information critical to our survival. I refuse to believe a future me, capable of sending a message through time, would waste my time."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, genuine—almost childlike—surprise flickering across his face. He picked up the letter, twirling it carelessly, his gaze lingering on the cryptic password. Then he smiled again, eyes alight with the thrill of a scholar unearthing a rare artifact.
"Charming! Truly charming!" he exclaimed. "But, my pragmatic friend, there's a third option: this could be a trap. A deliciously crafted lure to bring you here, to me, at this precise moment." He tossed the letter back onto the counter. "A rather elegant trap, I must say."
Alex's stone-like expression didn't waver. He held Lucifer's gaze, his silence louder than words.
Lucifer laughed—clear, genuine, but devoid of warmth.
"Ha! In all my endlessly long existence… this is a first. Sending yourself a message from the future to interrogate the Devil. Exquisite audacity!" He took another sip, eyes gleaming. "You want to know about the future coming in two weeks? Fine. Listen." His voice turned cold. "Darkseid isn't just an alien. He's a being of the Fourth World. Singular across the Multiverse. You're aware of the Multiverse, yes? Countless realities?" He waved a hand, noting Alex's nod. "In essence: he's stronger than your local benchmark, Superman. Significantly. His Omega Beams aren't mere weapons—they're a concept of annihilation. If they target you, you're done. Precisely. Irreversibly. His army? Billions. Technology? Eons beyond yours. Discipline? Absolute."
"How many Earths has he conquered?" Alex cut in sharply. "If he's attacking the Multiverse, can we call for help from other free Earths?"
Lucifer shook his head, his expression patronizing.
"Four, so far. But help? Forget it. Only beings of his caliber—Fourth World entities—can freely traverse Multiversal dimensions. You mortals are stuck in your sandbox. No one's coming."
"What's his endgame?" Alex pressed, keeping despair from his voice. "And can his portals be shut down? Can't we just bomb them?"
"The Anti-Life Equation," Lucifer replied, his lips curling in disgust. "A pretentious name for a force that grants absolute subjugation of any will to his own. That's what he seeks. As for the portals…" He spread his hands. "Under normal circumstances, they're as stable as black holes. Unclosable."
A cold weight sank in Alex's stomach. He took a deep breath.
"The way you talk… you know him well." He met Lucifer's eyes, searching for any leverage. "Why not help us? And you said 'normal circumstances.' Does that mean this invasion isn't?"
"Perceptive, damn you," Lucifer said, waving a hand as if dismissing trivial details. "Yes, I know him. His power, his ambitions, his methods. I know how he operates." His gaze sharpened. "But here's the crux, dear Guest: Darkseid is your problem. Your trial. Your war for your freedom." He set his glass down, his eyes piercing. "I am Freedom. Its primal embodiment. My nature isn't to force it on others but to let them choose—fight for it or surrender. I'm not some crusading deity diving into your battles. I'm the one who offers a chance. My interference would strip your choice of meaning. It'd be my victory, not yours." His tone was calm, devoid of doubt or regret. "As for 'normal circumstances'…" He tilted his head slightly. "…this isn't his True Incursion. That's scheduled in three years. What's coming in two weeks is a test run. A blitzkrieg. If he breaks you in three days, he won't wait three years. Your job is to survive those three days. If you can't…" He shrugged elegantly. "…what's there to discuss? Your freedom won't matter to you."
Alex stared, not with anger or judgment but with an effort to grasp Lucifer's logic.
"So… you're choosing to sit it out?" he asked, emphasizing the word. "To watch?"
Lucifer's smile returned.
"Precisely," he confirmed, his voice free of burden or bitterness, only absolute certainty. "I'm Freedom, not a babysitter. Darkseid is your End or your Trial. I might even root for your resilience. Freedom fought for to the last is always beautiful."
He paused, his gaze sharpening, analytical, as if weighing invisible scales. "However…" His voice lost its playfulness, turning uncharacteristically serious. "…I'll concede, the current imbalance of forces is somewhat offensive to the very principle of Freedom. The odds are absurdly skewed. And that…" He tilted his head. "…dulls the poignancy of your impending choice. Without even a sliver of hope, what's the point of struggle? What beauty is there in inevitable defeat?"
He looked directly at Alex, his eyes burning with the cold fire of an ancient being for whom an unbalanced game was anathema. "So, out of respect for the concept of Freedom you're about to fight for—however reluctantly—and in recognition of the audacity of your future self who sent you here, I'll grant you a chance. Not a guarantee. Not victory. A chance. One small divine gesture to level the playing field." He turned to Alex, his eyes sparking with that dangerous intellect again. "I can converge the portals. Funnel all entry points into one. A single massive portal instead of hundreds of small ones. A choke point. It'll simplify your defense. A focused point of resistance." His smile was a chasm of power and mystery. "And, I'll note," he added casually, but it was a critical detail, "in such a localized, probing incursion, Darkseid himself can't descend in person. Only an avatar. Powerful, certainly—stronger than your Superman—but merely an avatar."
Alex closed his eyes for a moment. Before him stood one of the greatest beings in creation, calmly offering a condition for their fight, not salvation.
"It's something," he exhaled, opening his eyes, resolve burning to meet the challenge. "How and when?"
Lucifer's smile returned, playful yet perilous, masking the abyss of his power and intent.
"When the invasion begins, just call. I'll hear you." He rose with unearthly grace, adjusting his flawless sleeve. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with the sunrise on the rooftop." He gave Alex a nod, cast a parting glance at the frozen Maze—laden with unspoken meaning—and melted into the club's fading night as silently as he'd appeared, leaving Alex alone with the ashen dawn and the weight of his knowledge.