The air was thick with the scent of asphalt and city life—coffee, exhaust fumes, the faint aroma of hot dogs from a street vendor down the block. The hum of New York vibrated in the background, a never-ending symphony of blaring horns, distant sirens, and the chatter of far too many mortals crammed into one place.
And standing at the entrance of Metro-General Hospital, Lucifer Morningstar took in his surroundings with mild intrigue.
Mazikeen, however, was far less amused.
"A hospital?" she deadpanned, arms crossed as she scanned the glass doors in front of them. "Tell me you didn't bring me all the way to Earth just so you could get a checkup."
Lucifer chuckled. "Now, now, Maze. You wound me. I'm the picture of celestial health."
She rolled her eyes. "Then why the hell are we standing outside a hospital and not, I don't know, a bar? Or Vegas? That's where the real fun happens."
Lucifer smirked. "Patience, my dear Maze. New York is where the interesting things will happen."
Mazikeen snorted. "Yeah? Then why this place?" She gestured at the hospital doors. "If we're here for fun, shouldn't we be—oh, I don't know—somewhere that actually serves alcohol?"
Lucifer opened his mouth—
And then hesitated.
Ah. That was odd.
Why had he chosen here? He wasn't sure. There had been something—some fleeting instinct, a sense of… familiarity.
But when he tried to grasp at the reason, it slipped through his fingers like sand.
That was not a feeling he was accustomed to.
Mazikeen caught the pause immediately. "Wait," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You don't actually know, do you?"
Lucifer scoffed. "Nonsense. I simply—"
Before he could find a suitably evasive yet charming excuse, movement caught his attention.
A man brushed past them, moving with quick, determined strides.
Lucifer's focus snapped to him instantly.
The man was tall, lean, and exuded a natural arrogance, though it was the sort born from actual competence rather than self-importance. He wore navy-blue scrubs and a white coat draped over his shoulders, the fabric shifting as he moved.
His expression was set in deep irritation, his brows slightly furrowed, lips pressed into a sharp line.
And he was muttering under his breath.
"Unbelievable. West's incompetence knows no bounds—now I have to fix his disaster while running on an empty stomach. If I lose another lunch break to his mediocrity, I swear—"
Lucifer's lips parted slightly.
Oh.
Now this was interesting.
There was something about him—something in the way he carried himself, in the way his voice cut through the air with absolute certainty. He looked exhausted, irritated, and yet… beneath it, there was an undeniable nobility.
He moved like a king who had yet to claim his throne.
And Lucifer couldn't look away.
Mazikeen, oblivious to the shift in Lucifer's focus, exhaled sharply. "Great. A hospital and a cranky human. Really living on the edge, boss."
Lucifer ignored her.
His gaze followed the man's retreating figure as he strode through the glass doors, pushing them open with a bit more force than necessary.
For a fleeting second, Lucifer felt that familiarity again—a whisper of something he couldn't quite place.
And then it was gone.
How… curious.
Mazikeen arched a brow. "Boss?"
Lucifer hummed, eyes still locked on the now-closed doors.
"Who was that?" he murmured even if he had already seen the name engraved in the doctor's coat.
Mazikeen followed his gaze, unimpressed. "Dunno. Some stressed-out doctor?"
Lucifer's smirk returned, but it was sharper now.
"Precisely."
And for the first time since arriving on Earth, he felt intrigued.
At least until Mazikeen grabbed Lucifer by the sleeve and dragged him away from the hospital doors, her patience already wearing thin.
"Alright, enough standing around and staring at angry humans," she grumbled. "Let's go before someone asks if we have an appointment."
Lucifer let himself be pulled along, still slightly distracted. His gaze lingered on the glass entrance of Metro-General Hospital, his mind turning over the brief yet undeniably intriguing encounter.
Dr. Stephen Strange.
There was something there—a familiarity he couldn't place.
But he wasn't about to dwell on it. Not yet.
Mazikeen pulled him onto the busy sidewalk, letting go of his sleeve once they were out of immediate view. Then, with an exasperated huff, she turned to him.
"Okay, so if this place is where the fun is supposed to happen, tell me," she demanded, crossing her arms. "What's different about this world? What's the big deal?"
Lucifer smirked. "Oh, but where's the fun in just knowing?"
Mazikeen's glare could have melted steel.
"Lucifer," she said slowly, voice edged with warning. "If you expect me to read through human history like some bored scholar, I will hurt someone."
Lucifer sighed, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Maze. You're so demanding."
She just raised an unimpressed brow.
"Fine," he relented. "I suppose I can indulge in a quick peek."
With a lazy flick of his fingers, his omniscience spread outward, brushing over the past century of this world. He didn't go too deep—just the highlights.
It was mostly the same, at first.
Empires rose and fell. Wars raged. Humanity stumbled blindly forward, making the same beautiful, messy mistakes they always did.
Until World War II.
Lucifer's eyes gleamed. Ah. There it is.
He pulled himself back into the present and turned to Mazikeen, hands slipping casually into his pockets.
"Well, for the most part, human history is shockingly similar to other worlds. The usual greed, conflict, and political nonsense." He waved a hand dismissively. "Until the Second Great War, where things took a rather… enhanced turn."
Mazikeen tilted her head. "How so?"
Lucifer smirked. "A super soldier, darling. Humanity's first real attempt at defying their own limits. One Captain America—a scrawny little man injected with science's best effort at perfection. He became a symbol—and, more importantly, he kicked off an obsession with scientific advancements. Weapons, technology, experimentation—one big snowball effect."
Mazikeen frowned. "Huh. Thought there'd be more magic involved."
Lucifer shrugged, deliberately not mentioning the occult aspects of that war.
"Oh, but we can't have everything handed to us, Maze. That would be terribly boring." He flashed her a grin. "Where's the thrill of discovery if we know everything upfront?"
Mazikeen's flat glare did not scream appreciation.
"You just don't want to do the work."
Lucifer gasped, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How dare you! I am merely preserving the joy of mystery!"
Mazikeen muttered something undoubtedly violent in Lilim under her breath.
Lucifer chuckled.
Now, all that was left was to experience this world firsthand.
And what better place to start than the city that never sleeps?
Mazikeen sighed loudly, stretching her arms behind her head. "I need a drink."
Lucifer's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. "Maze, that is a splendid idea."
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, already turning down the sidewalk. "Let's just find a bar before I start stabbing pedestrians for fun."
Lucifer chuckled, easily keeping pace beside her. "Now, now, darling. Let's set our standards a little higher, shall we?"
Mazikeen raised a brow. "Oh, great. Here it comes."
Lucifer gestured grandly to the skyline. "This is New York City, Maze. The pinnacle of excess, wealth, and utterly delightful decadence. If we're going to indulge in mortal vices, we should do so in style."
"So… upper-class snob bar?"
"Exquisite upper-class snob bar," Lucifer corrected.
Mazikeen rolled her eyes but didn't argue.
And so, they made their way toward one of the city's more upscale districts, Lucifer already envisioning a well-aged whiskey in crystal glassware, soft jazz playing in the background, and perhaps a charming conversation with a flustered bartender.
But then—
BOOM.
The unmistakable thunder of an explosion rippled through the streets, shattering the peace.
Gunfire followed. Screams.
Lucifer and Mazikeen both paused mid-step.
Lucifer tilted his head. "Well. That's not the ambiance I was expecting."
Mazikeen's eyes gleamed. "Sounds like a fight."
Lucifer considered. He could ignore it and proceed with his night of leisure. But where was the fun in that? Random destruction? Unexpected chaos?
Now that was entertainment.
"Shall we investigate?" he offered.
Mazikeen grinned. "Thought you'd never ask."
They turned toward the noise, following the fleeing civilians who were rushing away from the source.
It didn't take long before they reached a massive, well-lit venue, a glowing sign above the entrance declaring:
STARK EXPO – THE FUTURE IS NOW!
Lucifer let out a soft chuckle as he saw the building ahead be consumed by chaos. Panicked attendees were pouring out of the entrance, their fancy attire clashing with their desperate attempts to flee.
But what caught their attention wasn't the crowd.
It was the battle.
In the distance, near the main stage, a red-and-gold figure darted through the air, twisting and weaving between a swarm of sleek, silver machines that fired at him relentlessly.
"Is that an android?" Mazikeen asked, eyes narrowing at the metallic figures.
Lucifer hummed in amusement. "No, no, my dear. Only the red-and-gold one is driven by a human."
Mazikeen gave him a sidelong glance. "And the silver ones?"
"Ah." Lucifer smirked. "Now those… those are merely puppets."
The battle raged ahead—repulsor blasts lit up the night sky, bullets ricocheted against steel, and glass shattered from the surrounding buildings.
And Lucifer grinned.
"Well, well," he murmured. "It seems our vacation is off to a rather delightful start."
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Update: I've got 42 more chapters of this
I'm dying inside
HALP