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 profoundly, relentlessly bored."
"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. "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, and 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 sure 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."