The vast heavens shimmered with golden light as Existence stood beside Michael and Aura, watching something entirely new take shape. Below them, the Creator's hands moved with purpose, molding a being unlike any other.
"They look… fragile," Michael murmured, his eyes filled with wonder.
Aura tilted her head. "Yet, they feel different from us. They have something we don't."
Existence nodded. "Free will."
As the first humans opened their eyes, their expressions were filled with curiosity. Unlike the celestial beings, they were not created with knowledge of all things. Instead, they would learn, grow, and choose their own paths.
Lucifer stood at a distance, arms crossed, his gaze cold. "Why them?" he asked, his voice laced with bitterness. "What makes them so special?"
The Creator turned toward him, His voice calm. "They are the balance between light and darkness. They will shape the universe in ways even you cannot foresee."
Lucifer scoffed. "They are weak. They will stumble, make mistakes. And yet, You favor them?"
Michael stepped forward. "Brother, this is not about favor. It's about purpose. The Creator's design is greater than any of us can understand."
Lucifer's fists clenched. "I understand enough. We were created with perfection, yet now we must watch over these flawed creatures?"
Existence sighed. "Perhaps that is the point. Perfection does not need guidance. But they do."
The Creator smiled. "They have the power to create, to destroy, to love, and to hate. That is why they are precious."
Lucifer's expression darkened. "And if they choose wrong?"
"Then they will learn."
Michael placed a hand on Lucifer's shoulder. "Brother, give them a chance."
Lucifer shrugged him off. "I have seen enough." With that, he turned and walked away, his wings stirring the air behind him.
Aura frowned. "He grows colder."
Existence exhaled heavily. "The balance is shifting."
Below them, the humans took their first steps, unaware of the storm beginning to brew in the heavens above.
... SomewhereintheCelestialPlane...
Lucifer stood alone in the vastness of the celestial realm, staring into the endless light that surrounded him. His mind was troubled, filled with questions he could no longer ignore. Why should only the Creator hold all the power? Why must they all serve without question? He was the greatest among the celestial beings, yet he was bound by rules he had no say in. Was this truly balance? Or was it control?
A flicker of darkness passed through his gaze as a thought settled deep in his heart—perhaps it was time for change.
Later that day, in a hidden part of the celestial plane, Lucifer gathered a few trusted angels. They were not the most powerful, but they were curious, willing to listen. The light in this place was dimmer, shadows stretching across the space like silent whispers.
Lucifer's voice was calm but firm. "Have you ever wondered why we must follow orders without question? Why the Creator alone decides the fate of all things?"
A murmur of uncertainty passed through the angels. Some glanced at each other, hesitant. One angel, Zephon, frowned. "But Lucifer, we were made to serve. The Creator's wisdom is greater than ours."
Lucifer's eyes darkened slightly. "Wisdom? Or control? We have power, Zephon—great power. But we are not allowed to use it beyond the limits He set. Why should we not choose our own path?"
Another angel, Remiel, shifted uneasily. "Lucifer… questioning the Creator is dangerous."
Lucifer gave a small smile. "Dangerous? Or necessary? Tell me, Remiel, if we are truly meant to bring balance, shouldn't we have a say in how it is done?"
The angels fell silent. The seed of doubt had been planted.
As days passed, Lucifer continued to speak to those who would listen. He was careful, choosing his words wisely, knowing that not all would understand. Some angels, like Zephon, remained loyal to the Creator. But others—many others—began to see things differently.
One evening, Lucifer found himself standing at the edge of the celestial city when Michael approached him.
"Lucifer." Michael's tone was steady but cautious. "I hear you have been speaking to the others."
Lucifer turned, smiling. "And does that trouble you, brother?"
Michael studied him, his golden eyes searching for something beneath the surface. "It does. The Creator's plan is perfect. Why are you leading others to question it?"
Lucifer's expression hardened. "Perfect? Michael, open your eyes. We have power beyond measure, yet we are treated like mere servants. Don't you wonder what it would be like to shape the universe as we see fit?"
Michael shook his head. "That is not our role. We exist to serve and maintain balance."
Lucifer took a step closer. "And what if the balance is flawed? What if we could create something greater?"
Michael's jaw tightened. "Lucifer, stop this. You are walking a dangerous path."
Lucifer smirked. "Perhaps. But danger often leads to greatness."
In the days that followed, more angels began to gather in secret, drawn by Lucifer's words. He spoke of freedom, of power, of a world where they were not bound by another's will. He promised them something greater than servitude—purpose beyond obedience.
But not all were convinced. Rumors began to spread, whispers reaching the ears of those still loyal to the Creator. The celestial realm was no longer at peace.
One night, as Lucifer stood in his private chambers, a shadow appeared behind him. It was Existence.
"You are making a mistake, Lucifer."
Lucifer didn't turn. "Am I?"
"Yes." Existence's voice was calm, but firm. "You speak of freedom, but what you are doing will only bring division."
Lucifer finally faced him, his expression unreadable. "Division is necessary for change."
Existence sighed. "And what will this change bring?"
Lucifer's eyes burned with determination. "A new order. One where we are no longer bound by a single will."
Existence studied him for a long moment before shaking his head. "Then you have already chosen your path."
Lucifer smiled, but there was sadness in it. "Yes. And soon, so will the others."
As Existence left, the air around Lucifer grew heavy. He had set something in motion—something that could not be undone.
The first crack had formed in the celestial realm, and soon, it would shatter.