Lucifer stood on the crest of a barren hill, his silhouette sharp against the dawn's first light as he looked out over the sprawling procession of the Israelites finally leaving Egypt. A dry wind ruffled his dark cloak, which billowed like wings around him. His face was shadowed, expression unreadable, but his eyes were fixed on the scene below, following every figure, every halting step, with a silent, intense scrutiny.