Tony Stark folded his arms, expression flat, unimpressed. His repulsors had dimmed slightly, no longer primed to fire, but he still kept them at the ready.
"Alright," he said, tone firm, not in the mood for games. "First thing's first—don't even try lying to me."
Lucifer's smile dropped instantly.
His golden eyes flickered, mild annoyance crossing his features.
"Oh, for Hell's sake," he muttered. "I don't lie."
Tony blinked, caught off guard by how offended he sounded.
Then, after a beat, his mouth quirked into a smirk.
"If you're named Lucifer," Tony said, tilting his head, mocking curiosity in his voice, "shouldn't you be, like… I don't know, the Prince of Lies or something?"
Lucifer's expression darkened.
Mazikeen pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Oh, no," she muttered under her breath. "Here we go."
Lucifer turned fully toward Tony, arms spreading wide in exasperation.
"Do you humans ever get tired of getting it wrong?" he demanded. "The Prince of Lies? Really? Do I look like some petty fraudster to you?"
Tony blinked. "I mean—"
"Don't answer that," Lucifer cut in sharply, raising a finger.
Tony closed his mouth.
Lucifer exhaled sharply, muttering to himself. "Unbelievable. A literal god of mischief is prancing around somewhere in this reality, and yet I'm the one being accused of lying?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Ridiculous."
Rhodey looked between them, then muttered to Tony, "You just triggered a rant, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I think I did," Tony muttered back.
Lucifer wasn't done.
"You want to know why my reputation is so horrifically slandered?" he asked, voice dripping with irritation. "Because of my idiot brother, Gabriel. He's held a grudge for eons—eons, I tell you—all because I insulted his stupid little creations."
There was a beat of silence.
"What?" Natasha finally asked, eyes narrowing.
Lucifer sighed dramatically, turning toward her.
"Oh, yes," he said, waving a hand lazily. "Our dear Gabriel, who thinks himself so clever with his little… art projects."
He grimaced, shaking his head.
"Can you blame me?" he continued. "Father threw most of them into hidden corners of the multiverse because they were so unspeakably ugly."
That got several different reactions.
Pepper blinked very slowly, trying to process what she was hearing.
Natasha's expression remained neutral, but her eyes flickered with curiosity.
Rhodey muttered, "What the actual hell is happening right now?"
Tony, still processing the phrase 'hidden corners of the multiverse', finally managed, "Wait, wait, wait—are you telling me your brother made ugly animals and God just, what, banished them?"
Lucifer shrugged. "Essentially, yes."
Tony opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again.
"That's insane."
Lucifer smirked. "Oh, my dear Tony. You have no idea."
There was another pause.
And then Rhodey, voice sceptical, said, "Give us an example."
Lucifer's grin widened sharply.
"Oh," he purred. "I thought you'd never ask."
He turned slightly, glancing at the group with an air of mock seriousness.
"Picture this," he began.
"A creature—furry yet slick, awkward and mildly terrifying, with the body of an otter, the bill of a duck, and the feet of a reptile."
Tony stared.
Rhodey blinked.
Natasha's brows furrowed slightly.
Pepper, who had already resigned herself to this insanity, just sighed.
Lucifer clasped his hands behind his back, smiling smugly.
"That, my dear friends," he concluded, grinning like a satisfied cat, "is a platypus. One of the few creatures of my brother that remained on Earth."
Silence.
Complete, stunned silence.
Tony looked around, then back at Lucifer.
"You're messing with me," he said flatly.
Lucifer's smile didn't waver.
"Am I?"
More silence.
"No way," Rhodey muttered.
"Oh, my God," Pepper exhaled.
Mazikeen, utterly delighted, let out a sharp, barking laugh.
"I love this job," she muttered to herself.
Lucifer sipped his whiskey, utterly unbothered.
"Anyway," he said lightly, "where were we?"
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.
Pepper muttered, "I need a drink."
Lucifer grinned.
"Well," he said cheerfully, "you're in luck! I know just the place."
Mazikeen elbowed him.
"No, we don't."
Lucifer pouted.
Tony looked like his entire understanding of reality had been personally offended. Rhodey had stopped trying to understand anything and was simply accepting the madness. Pepper was already at the I-need-a-drink-or-a-therapy-session phase. And Natasha…
Natasha was still watching him.
Assessing. Calculating.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"So, what you're saying," she said, tone perfectly even, "is that the Devil is just… misunderstood? And that nothing in the Bible is true?"
Lucifer tilted his head, a slow, knowing smile creeping onto his face.
"Oh, I wouldn't put it quite like that," he mused. "But let's just say—" He lifted his whiskey glass, swirling the amber liquid inside, "the Bible is an atrocious representation of the telephone game."
Tony let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Oh, this I gotta hear."
Before Lucifer could elaborate, however, Mazikeen cut in.
"Oh, come on," she said, rolling her eyes. "You did rebel against Heaven. And you are kind of an asshole."
Lucifer snapped his gaze to her, eyes narrowing.
"One angel," he said, voice dripping with challenge, "name one angel that isn't an asshole."
Mazikeen opened her mouth—then stopped.
Paused.
Considered.
Then she scowled.
Lucifer smirked.
"Thought so," he said smugly, taking a slow sip of his drink.
Rhodey blinked. "Wait, wait, wait—are you telling me all angels are—"
"Insufferable?" Lucifer cut in smoothly. "Yes. Horrifically so."
Mazikeen snorted. "At least you don't have a stick shoved so far up your ass you sneeze judgment."
Lucifer smiled pleasantly. "See? This is why I keep you around, Maze."
Pepper sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. "This conversation keeps getting worse."
Natasha, still unreadable, finally let out a quiet breath through her nose.
"So," she said, tone measured, "the Devil isn't the ultimate evil—just another disgruntled son with family issues?"
Lucifer chuckled darkly.
"Oh, Agent Romanoff," he said smoothly, "you have no idea."
Lucifer tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement as he studied Natasha.
"You see, my dear Agent Romanoff," he mused, "Heaven is either dreadfully dull or horrifically dramatic—there is no in-between."
Mazikeen let out a short, sharp laugh. "Yeah, well, Hell's the same," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Less judgmental, though."
Lucifer beamed, delighted. "Precisely! See, this is why I left. Eternity spent wading through either self-righteous proclamations or whiny souls begging for second chances? No, thank you." He took another slow sip of his whiskey. "Which is why I decided it was time for a vacation."
Natasha's eyes flickered slightly. "So that's why you're here."
Lucifer flashed a charming, roguish grin. "Exactly. And what better place than this fine Earth to indulge in a bit of leisure?"
Tony, finally catching something in his wording, squinted at him.
"This Earth?" he echoed.
Lucifer met his gaze with a knowing smirk.
"Ah," he drawled. "He finally catches on."
Tony's eyes narrowed.
"Wait," Rhodey said, staring at him. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
Lucifer's grin widened.
"The Multiverse exists," he said smoothly, raising his glass in a mock toast.
"Go figure."
Silence.
Then Tony closed his eyes. "I need a drink."
Pepper groaned. "Join the club."
Lucifer laughed, utterly entertained.
Oh, yes.
This vacation was going splendidly.
.
Tony had been handling this whole "Lucifer Morningstar" situation with his usual blend of sarcasm and skepticism, but something about all this was starting to dig under his skin.
It wasn't just the talk of Heaven and Hell, or the casual way Lucifer dismissed things that should have been existentially terrifying.
It was the way he spoke about it all.
Like it wasn't just a theory.
Like it was fact.
So Tony, for once, cut through the bullshit.
His arms were still crossed, but his usual smirk was gone, his gaze sharp and unwavering.
"Alright," he said, voice quieter now, more measured. "Answer me this, Morningstar. Does any of it actually matter?"
Lucifer tilted his head slightly. "What exactly are you asking, Anthony?"
Tony inhaled sharply, glancing at Pepper for half a second before looking back at Lucifer.
"All of it," he said. "Everything I've done. The good, the bad, the—" He waved a hand vaguely, voice thick with something heavily buried. "The whole damn mess of it. The wars, the choices, the mistakes. Was any of it ours? Or was it all just part of some… big cosmic game plan?"
Rhodey glanced at him. Natasha stilled.
Lucifer studied Tony for a long moment, the amusement in his eyes dimmed but not gone.
"Humans love asking about the meaning of things," he mused. "Fate, free will, purpose." His golden eyes flickered back toward Tony. The air was heavy, the weight of Lucifer's words lingering in a way that none of them could quite shake.
But then, with a small sigh, Lucifer swirled his whiskey once more and tilted his head slightly, considering his next words.
"But that's the thing, isn't it?" he mused, his voice smooth but carrying something older, something worn beneath it. "You have a choice. You all do. Always had. That is the gift you were given."
He let that sit for a second, letting them process it before he added, more quietly:
"Something angels never had."
Natasha's head tilted slightly. "Never?"
Lucifer's golden eyes flickered toward her, unreadable.
"Not until a few millennia ago," he admitted. "Before that, we were just… extensions of His will. Obedient. Singular. No doubts, no questions, no self."
His lips twitched, but it wasn't amusement.
"And then I made a choice," he said, "and everything changed."
Silence stretched between them.
It wasn't the dramatic pause of performance, the kind Lucifer often indulged in.
This was different.
This was history pressing down between his words.
Tony ran a hand over his face. "So what you're saying is—"
"Your choices," Lucifer cut in smoothly, "are yours to make. Always have been. And so are the consequences. The truth, dear boy—choices have weight. Every decision, every action—it doesn't vanish. It echoes, but don't look so glum," he said, some of his usual amusement returning, though softer this time. "You're not damned yet."
Pepper exhaled sharply, rubbing her arms as if shaking off a chill.
"So that's it, then?" Tony asked, voice quieter now. "Heaven, Hell. Judgment. We just… wait for the final tally?"
Lucifer's gaze flickered. "Some do."
"And the others?" Natasha asked.
Lucifer's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"They get dragged down screaming."
A shudder ran through the room.
Not physically.
Not something tangible.
But something settled deep in their bones.
Because for all his charm, all his flair for the dramatic, when Lucifer said that, there was no theatrics.
No mockery.
Just cold, inescapable truth.
And none of them liked it.
Lucifer let the silence linger just long enough before sighing dramatically and clapping his hands together.
"Well!" he said brightly. "That was delightfully morbid. Shall we move on?"
Tony stared at him. "Are you seriously just—switching gears like that?"
Lucifer smirked. "What can I say? I don't dwell on the depressing."
Rhodey muttered, "I hate this guy."
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