I'm The Devil - Chapter 339
Chapter 339: Father And Son 2
Lucifer didn’t move for a long time. His fists relaxed slowly, blood pooling in the half-moon cuts left by his nails. The mug in his hand had cooled, but he didn’t care. The air felt too thick, like the house itself was holding its breath.
God—no, his father—stood across from him, barefoot, smiling softly like he’d just stepped in from a walk in the garden.
Lucifer exhaled and finally asked, “What do you want?”
His voice came out low, not hostile, not gentle. Just tired. The kind of tired that sat in your bones.
The man—his father—tilted his head slightly, as if the question had surprised him.
“Nothing,” he said.
Lucifer blinked.
“Bullshit,” he muttered.
“Truly,” the man said, stepping closer, hands open at his sides. “I just wanted to see my son.”
Lucifer scoffed. “You don’t show up just to chat. You’re not built for that. If this is about the creature, or the end of the world, or whatever cosmic riddle you want solved—you can forget it. If you want your bidding done, I’ll kindly refuse.”
“I don’t.”
That word hit differently.
Lucifer’s head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing. “Then what do you want? Really. What game are you playing?”
“None,” God said simply. “I just want to talk. A father and his son.”
Lucifer stared at him.
The words hung there, fragile and strange. They didn’t belong in this house, not in this century, not between them.
“Why now?” Lucifer asked, his voice quieter. “Why this morning, after everything?”
God walked to the counter and sat on the stool across from him. His movement wasn’t divine or glowing or theatrical. He sat like a man who’d been walking for a long time and just wanted to rest.
“Because I miss you,” he said.
Lucifer blinked. Once. Twice.
He opened his mouth, then shut it.
“You what?”
“Miss you. I miss hearing your voice. Even if it’s filled with venom. Even if you curse me. I miss you, Lucifer.”
“No,” Lucifer said flatly, shaking his head. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to walk in here with your soft light and your kind eyes and pretend this is normal.”
“I’m not pretending.”
“You abandoned me.”
“I did.”
Lucifer flinched at the bluntness of it. He’d expected denial. Excuses. But the man just nodded.
“I cast you out. I let you burn. I left you alone when you needed me most.”
Lucifer looked away. His throat felt tight. He hated how much those words scraped across something raw.
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid of what you were becoming.”
“You mean I wasn’t obedient enough.”
“No. You were growing too fast. You were asking questions I didn’t know how to answer. You loved too much. Too deeply. You scared the others. You scared me.”
Lucifer laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just something broken. “So you threw me away.”
“I thought it was the only way to keep everything together.”
“You broke me.”
“I know.”
The silence settled thick between them. No music played now. Just the hum of the fridge and the distant rumble of traffic outside.
Lucifer stared at the countertop again. His voice, when it came, was low and cracked.
“Do you know what it was like out there? In the outerverse?”
His father didn’t answer.
“Do you know what it’s like to scream for someone you love and hear nothing for centuries? To rot inside your own mind because there’s no one left to talk to but your own hate?”
“Yes.”
Lucifer looked up sharply.
“You don’t know shit.”
“I do. Because while you were screaming into the void, I was watching. Feeling every second of it. I was the silence you screamed into. I was the wall you beat your fists against.”
Lucifer stood up so fast the stool clattered behind him.
“You don’t get to turn your cruelty into poetry.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why now? Why show up after everything—after my banishment, after the bloodshed, after I finally started living without you?”
God stood too, but he didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t move closer.
“Because the world is changing, and not because of prophecy. Because people are choosing things they weren’t meant to choose. Because creatures from outside the thread of time are walking into bars and learning to smile. Because I want you to know—whatever happens next, I came here not as a god. Not as the author of fate.”
His gaze softened.
“I came as your father.”
Lucifer stared at him, chest heaving, fists clenched. And then, slowly, the tension bled out of him. He stepped back, leaned against the counter, and ran a hand through his hair.
“You think it’s that easy?”
“No.”
“You think I can forget everything you did just because you finally showed up with a smile and a robe and a hug in your voice?”
“I don’t want you to forget. I want you to talk to me.”
Lucifer let out a breath. It came out shaky, tired.
“This isn’t how I imagined our reunion.”
“I doubt you imagined one at all.”
“Fair.”
They stood there, quiet, the past hanging between them like smoke that refused to clear.
Finally, Lucifer reached for the mug and took another sip. Cold now. Bitter.
“You really came for nothing?”
“Not nothing. I came for you.”
Lucifer glanced at him, then looked away.
“I don’t forgive you.”
“I know.”
“I might not ever.”
“I’ll still be here.”
Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly. He looked at his father’s face. The same face he once hated. The same one he once longed to see just once more.
“Sit,” he said quietly. “We can talk. But only as two men. Not as God and Lucifer. Not as ruler and rebel.”
God nodded. “Agreed.”
They sat.
And for the first time in longer than either could remember, they spoke like father and son.
A/N
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