The moment Lucifer and Mazikeen stepped inside the Stark Expo, the atmosphere shifted.
The air was thick with smoke, the sharp scent of burning metal and scorched circuits hanging in the space like an uninvited guest. The rhythmic whine of repulsor blasts echoed through the building, punctuated by the clatter of collapsing debris and the distant crackle of flames.
Glass crunched beneath their footsteps as they walked further inside, jagged shards scattered across the polished floors. The once-glorious display of The Future Is Now had been reduced to a warzone—shattered exhibits, overturned chairs, abandoned merchandise booths crushed beneath fallen beams.
Lucifer breathed in deeply, savoring the chaos.
"Ah," he murmured, golden eyes glinting with amusement. "Now this is entertainment."
Mazikeen, however, was scanning the room with a more critical gaze.
Near the entrance, a group of guards in suits were clustered around a woman with strawberry-blonde hair, who was clearly trying to herd them into some semblance of order.
She was speaking fast, her voice firm, unwavering—one of the few in the room not succumbing to panic.
"Keep moving! Get everyone out of here now—we don't have time for this!" she snapped, directing the guards toward the exit even as they hesitated, flustered and unsure.
Lucifer tilted his head, studying her. Ah. A leader.
He didn't know her name, but the weight of responsibility clung to her like a second skin. A woman trying to maintain order in the face of absolute chaos.
"She's interesting," he murmured.
Mazikeen barely spared the woman a glance. "She's a bureaucrat. You're just staring because she's stressed."
Lucifer grinned. "I do enjoy a bit of controlled panic."
Beyond them, the damage was more evident—bodies strewn across the floor, some injured, some unconscious, but all victims of collateral destruction.
People clutched at bleeding wounds, coughing as they tried to push themselves upright. A few medics in expo staff uniforms were scrambling to assist them, but it was clear they weren't equipped for this.
Mazikeen exhaled sharply. "So. Can I fight them?"
She gestured toward the silver drones marching stiffly through the expo, their red optical sensors scanning the room as they systematically advanced.
Lucifer observed them for a moment—their movements were mechanical, predictable.
"Hmm," he mused. "Not much of a challenge, I'm afraid. Look at them—no real instinct, no creativity."
Mazikeen sighed, already losing interest. "Yeah. They move like corpses."
Lucifer chuckled. "Ah, but at least corpses are messy. These are just… mindless puppets."
A shriek suddenly cut through the chaos—high-pitched, small, terrified.
Lucifer's gaze snapped toward the source, his senses sharpening.
A young boy stood frozen near a toppled display booth, his small frame dwarfed by the destruction around him. He wore a cheap red-and-gold Iron Man mask over his face, his arms raised as if he were about to blast something from his palms—a playful imitation of the real thing.
But the drone in front of him didn't care.
It had locked onto him, its arm-mounted weapon whirring to life, barrel shifting as it prepared to fire.
Lucifer acted before thought.
One moment, he was watching. The next, he was there.
He appeared in front of the spawn, his stance relaxed, one hand casually raised.
The drone's weapon fired.
And Lucifer simply placed his palm over the muzzle of the gun.
The blast never came.
Instead, the weapon's energy fizzled into nothing, its power absorbed into Lucifer's touch as though it had simply ceased to exist.
The drone's head twitched—registering the interference.
Lucifer turned his head slightly, golden eyes gleaming.
"Now, now," he said, voice smooth as silk. "That's hardly sporting, is it?"
The drone jerked backward, attempting to re-adjust its weapon, but Lucifer's fingers curled into the steel, and with a casual flex of his hand—
Crunch.
The entire arm of the machine caved inward, its structure warping like aluminum foil beneath his grip. Sparks sputtered from the damaged limb, and the drone's sensors flickered wildly—seemingly confused, registering an unknown force.
Lucifer smirked.
"Oops," he said without a hint of sincerity.
The boy behind him peeked through his plastic mask, wide-eyed.
Mazikeen, watching from the sidelines, sighed dramatically.
"See, this is why we don't make plans," she muttered.
Lucifer just chuckled.
After all—wasn't this exactly why he came here?
The broken remains of the drone clattered to the floor, its lifeless red optics flickering before shutting down entirely. The little boy in the red-and-gold mask was still frozen in place.
Lucifer gave him a pleasant smile and dusted off his hands. "Run along now, little one. Might be best to leave the heroics to the professionals—" his eyes gleamed mischievously, "—or, in my case, the exceptionally well-dressed amateurs."
The kid nodded dumbly before bolting, sneakers squeaking against the expo floor as he disappeared into the panicked crowd.
Mazikeen watched him go, then turned back to Lucifer with an unimpressed look.
"You do remember we are supposed to keep a low profile whenever topside, right?"
Lucifer scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "Oh, Maze, must you always be such a killjoy? We're in the middle of a battle. Subtlety seems dreadfully misplaced in this situation."
Mazikeen crossed her arms. "We've barely been here an hour, and you're already showing off."
Lucifer smirked. "I am simply embracing the moment." He spread his arms dramatically, as if presenting the chaos around them. "Besides, do you really think they'll be that surprised by my presence? A universe filled with superheroes, aliens, and magic?"
Mazikeen raised a brow. "I thought aliens wouldn't be official until next year."
"Details," Lucifer said before his smirk widened. "Also, this universe is so far removed from Father's direct influence, so drenched in mysticism, I daresay they won't find anything particularly unbelievable about me." He shrugged. "And if they do? Well, they'll forget soon enough. Humanity has a remarkable talent for rationalizing the impossible."
Mazikeen sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. But if we're doing this, we might as well make it interesting."
Lucifer arched a brow. "Oh?"
Mazikeen rolled her shoulders, smirking now. "I bet I can take down more of these tin cans than you."
Lucifer gasped in mock offense. "Darling! You wound me! Competing against me? How utterly reckless."
Mazikeen cracked her knuckles. "Afraid you'll lose?"
Lucifer's golden eyes gleamed. "Not in the slightest."
Another drone turned toward them, its targeting system locking on.
Lucifer grinned. "Shall we?"
Mazikeen was already lunging forward, blades flashing.
Lucifer chuckled to himself.
Oh, yes. This was going to be fun.
The battle was chaos incarnate—blaster fire streaked across the room, metallic bodies crashed through glass displays, and panicked expo guests scrambled for safety.
And in the midst of it all, Lucifer Morningstar strolled.
He moved through the destruction as if he were walking through a garden, rather than a warzone, golden eyes gleaming with amusement.
A drone aimed at him—Lucifer merely tilted his head, flicking his fingers. A tiny, seemingly insignificant piece of shattered metal from the floor lifted, shooting forward at impossible speed.
CRACK.
The fragment embedded itself right into the drone's optical sensor, sending it sparking and twitching before it collapsed in a heap.
Lucifer smirked.
Too easy.
Another drone rushed toward him. With a lazy sigh, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a silver coin—his old favorite.
Flick.
The coin spun through the air, slicing effortlessly through the drone's neck joint. The head toppled, and the rest of its body short-circuited before it even hit the floor.
Lucifer caught the coin on its way back, twirling it between his fingers.
And all the while, as he casually dismantled machines, the wounds of the injured around him vanished.
A woman clutching a deep gash in her arm suddenly gasped—the wound knitting itself back together as Lucifer passed. A security officer, his leg mangled from falling debris, found himself standing again without realizing how.
Lucifer didn't pause to acknowledge it. Didn't look. Didn't linger. He simply healed as he walked, as if it were an afterthought.
Mazikeen, meanwhile, was having the time of her life.
If Lucifer was all effortless grace, she was pure, unfiltered energy.
She vaulted off a toppled display, twisting midair as she drove one of her blades straight through a drone's chassis, tearing out its wiring. Using the falling machine as a stepping stone, she launched into another, spinning and carving through metal like an artist painting with blood.
A drone fired—she arched her back, dodging the shot by mere inches, then flipped and landed on its shoulders, stabbing downward through its processor.
She grinned. "That's three!"
Lucifer hummed. "Is that all?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, screw you."
"Language, darling."
And then they were competing.
Lucifer flicked another coin, tearing through two drones at once.
Mazikeen kicked off a crumbling wall, twisting midair and decapitating another bot before landing with a smirk.
Lucifer pulled a drone's blaster right out of its arm without even touching it, then used it to shoot two more.
Mazikeen ripped a limb off another drone and beat its companion with it.
They were laughing. They were playing.
And people were gawking.
Pepper Potts, who had been coordinating evacuations, had stopped completely—staring, wide-eyed, at the absolute absurdity unfolding before her.
The guards beside her had their weapons raised, but none of them fired—not because they didn't want to, but because what the hell were they even seeing?
Two terrifyingly efficient fighters were tearing through Stark's biggest security threat like it was a party game.
And they were clearly enjoying it.
Pepper blinked. "...Who the hell are they?"
None of the guards had an answer.
But one man was definitely going to find out.
Because high above, mid-dogfight, Tony Stark had finally noticed the anomaly below.
"JARVIS," he muttered as he dodged another blast. "Who the hell is that?"
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Somehow, I've more than 50 chapters done and it's becoming more romance-focused than I expected (At least, it looks like that around those chapters).
I saw the word count and I so far have written more than 104k... HALP
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Also, if you want to support me and read ten more chapters, go to my p@treon: JorieDS