[A month had passed with a liquor store job, a crammed apartment, and a student loan debt! That should count as something, right, for a devil scum?!]
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Lucifer strolled down the neon-lit streets of Paradise, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his slightly too-small school uniform. It's been about a month since his sudden fall from grace, and what better place to learn how to be a functional mortal than high school?
The man-made floating city loomed around him, a marvel of human engineering and demonic influence. Massive skyscrapers stretched towards the heavens, their sleek facades reflecting the setting sun in a dazzling array of oranges and pinks.
Humans, Lucifer mused, always trying to play God. Or in this case, play Devil.
He couldn't help but smirk at the irony. Here he was, the literal Prince of Darkness, reduced to wandering the streets of a man-made "Demon Sanctuary" like some lost tourist. The whole concept was utterly ridiculous – a 120 km square floating city, home to a couple hundred thousand humans and who-knows-how-many demons, all living in some twisted experiment of supernatural coexistence.
As he walked, Lucifer's keen senses picked up on the subtle signs of demonic presence all around him. A shopkeeper's eyes glowed an unnatural red as she hawked her wares. A businessman's perfectly manicured nails extended just a bit too far, hinting at retractable claws beneath. Even the air itself seemed charged with energy, making Lucifer's skin tingle with a mix of excitement and unease.
It's like Disneyland for the damned, he thought, chuckling to himself. Complete with overpriced snacks and long lines.
As if on cue, his stomach growled. Lucifer realized he hadn't eaten since... well, since whenever the hell he'd last remembered to eat. Time worked differently for immortal beings, and he was still adjusting to the whole "three meals a day" thing that humans seemed so obsessed with.
He was about to duck into a nearby ramen shop when a sight stopped him dead in his tracks. Two young women in exotic dresses were walking towards him, their delicate features illuminated by the soft glow of paper lanterns hanging overhead. Lucifer felt his mouth go dry as he took in their graceful movements, the way the fabric clung to their curves, the exposed napes of their necks...
No, no, NO! Lucifer mentally slapped himself. Bad Devil! We do NOT eat the locals!
But it was too late. He could feel the familiar stirring of his demonic nature, the primal urge to claim, to devour, to corrupt. His fingernails began to lengthen into razor-sharp claws, and he could feel his canines sharpening to points behind his lips.
"Fuck," Lucifer muttered, squeezing his eyes shut and willing his demonic features to recede. This urges were as a result of his now mortal body trying to adjust to accommodate the supernatural.
And about that, he'd only been able to unlock a mere fraction, although less than 1% of his power. But still a feat greater than most of the demons in Paradise.
He took deep, steadying breaths, focusing on the objective. He was here to learn, to understand this bizarre experiment in human-demon relations and hopefully, learn how to not be himself, anymore. Not to give in to his baser instincts like some newly-spawned imp.
When he opened his eyes again, the women had passed, leaving only the lingering scent of cherry blossoms in their wake. Lucifer exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. Crisis averted. For now.
But as he continued his walk, a nagging doubt gnawed at the back of his mind. What was he really doing here? Playing at being human, pretending to be just another face in the crowd? He was Lucifer, for hell's sake! The Morningstar, the Adversary, the Prince of Lies! And yet here he was, struggling not to pop a demonic boner over a couple of girls in fancy bathrobes.
Is this what I've been reduced to? he wondered, a bitter taste in his mouth. Some neutered version of myself, trying to fit into a world that was never meant for me?
As the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the towering skyline, Lucifer found himself at a crossroads – both literally and figuratively. To his left, the bright lights and pulsing music of the entertainment district beckoned, promising a night of hedonistic delights. To his right, the quieter residential area offered the promise of... what? Normalcy? Peace?
Lucifer stood there for a long moment, torn between his nature and his newfound purpose. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he turned right.
Baby steps, he told himself. Rome wasn't corrupted in a day.
As he made his way back to his modest apartment, Lucifer couldn't shake the feeling that he was in way over his head. This "Demon Sanctuary" might be a playground for most supernatural beings, but for him, it was starting to feel an awful lot like a cage.
The true test, he realized, wasn't going to be resisting temptation or blending in with the humans. It was going to be finding a way to be himself – whoever the hell that was now – in a world that had no idea what to do with a fallen angel trying to find redemption.
Lucifer snorted at the thought. Redemption. Right. Because nothing says 'path to righteousness' like an city full of demons and horny teenagers.
As he climbed the stairs to his apartment, Lucifer made a mental note to pick up some self-help books. "How to Win Friends and Influence People Without Unleashing the Forces of Hell" had to exist somewhere, right?
With a final glance at the glittering cityscape behind him, Lucifer stepped inside and closed the door on another day in paradise. Or purgatory. At this point, he wasn't entirely sure which was which anymore.
***