Chapter 16: Deal with the Devil
Rigal PhenexLux, CA, USA
We talked long into the night. I began with the grand history of my reality, as detailed as I knew it. I covered the Great War between Heaven and Hell, the Underworld Civil War that gave rise to the “New Satans” as we knew them, and the eventual reawakening and sealing of Trihexa, the Beast of the Apocalypse. If he had a question for me, I told him the truth to the best of my ability.
To me, this was all history, something I covered in noble finishing school alongside my peers. I learned math, social studies, spellcrafting, and the impact of Serafall Leviathan’s magical girl obsession on the Underworld’s cultural zeitgeist. Sure, I was closer to those historical figures than most, what with Aunt Ravel marrying Uncle Issei, but it was nothing special.
But to Lucifer Morningstar, this was all something special. This was the chance to learn about a whole new reality, a multiversal cluster in which neither the Presence nor his children had any influence. He was fascinated by all the similarities and differences.
The idea that my people used his name as a title made him chuckle. That “Lucifer” was just the first among equals to Beelzebub, Asmodeus, and Leviathan got on his nerves. Apparently, he knew the originals form this reality and they were “trash unfit to wipe my shoes.”
He heard about our Azazel Cup, our “substitute for war.” It reminded him of the gladiatorial pits of Hell. He spent a few million years of his ten billion year reign cultivating the best fighters, but got bored of it all as a pastime. He wondered if things would be more interesting if he roped in more gods and enforced it as a viable supplement to inter-pantheon diplomacy.
I let out a sigh of relief when he decided that it probably wasn’t worth the hassle. I was pretty sure that as the one who gave him the idea, I’d be on every pantheon’s shitlist. Retired meant retired; woe to the fool who convinced him otherwise.
Finally, as the sun peaked over the horizon, he ran out of questions for me. Curiously, he never once asked about how my world’s media depicted him. He could probably guess; or maybe he simply didn’t care.
We’d long since moved from the bar. There was a VIP lounge on the second floor, an exclusive space with large couches, complementary cigars, and shelves of brandy worth as much as the average man’s weekly salary. He offered me a cigar of my own but I settled for a glass of brandy to wet my throat.
Lucifer leaned back into his seat, Mazikeen nestled into his side. “Heh, you’re the most interesting devil to waste my time in millennia; I’ll give you that. I’m in a good mood so I’ll hear you out. What do you want? Why come to visit your dear ol’ Uncle Luci?”
I chuckled. It took the whole fucking night, but we were finally at the important question. Really, it wasn’t just Lucifer; immortals had an annoying tendency to enjoy wasting time.
“Well, ‘Uncle Luci,’” I began, testing the name on my tongue. It was probably a good sign that I wasn’t about to get erased from existence. “I need your help.”
“Of course you do. No one looks for me unless they want something. Well? Out with it.”
“Alright, there isn’t an easy way to say this, so… How does one keep a Lord of Chaos from returning to the material plane?”
Mazikeen snorted derisively. “You’re kidding. You’ve been here for a few months at most and you banished one of those leeches?”
“I defended the Tower of Fate from Klarion the Witch Boy and successfully killed his anchor, Teekl,” I agreed. “I suspect that Klarion will stop holding back the next time he gains a foothold in reality.”
“You really know how to hit above your weight class, huh, kid? You’re fucked. You’re so fucked that it’s not even funny anymore,” she said without event he slightest trace of sympathy.
“I do realize that, yes. Hence, I am here, asking Lucifer for help. Can you keep him off my back?”
The retired King of Hell puffed away on his cigar. Apparently, it was supposed to have coffee notes. “Hmm… Nah. I’m not going to protect you from Klarion. I could, but I’m retired and those Lords of Chaos are annoying.”
For someone like Lucifer, locking Klarion in a dimensional bubble or erasing him from existence would have been the work of a second, if that. It was the surefire way of getting rid of a conceptual entity.
Still, it wasn’t like I hadn’t expected this. Lucifer wasn’t evil per se, but he was certainly selfish.
“I can’t say I’m not disappointed,” I said. “If you will not protect me, can you please give me some advice?”
“You do tell funny stories, so… Fine, what will you try? Run your ideas by me and I’ll tell you if any of them have a shot or not.”
“I made an enemy of Klarion when I fulfilled a contract to defend the Tower of Fate. I reckon that I could probably get Nabu to owe me a favor and–”
“Nope, try again. You said it yourself. You were fulfilling a contract. Presumably, you got paid already, yes?”
“Ah, yeah…”
“Then it doesn’t matter where the contract took place. Nabu doesn’t owe you anything. Was it worth it?”
“W-Well, she gave me the Amulet of Aten,” I said stoically.
It didn’t work. He took one look at my face and burst out laughing. “A girl. Hah, see that, Maze? Kid fucked with a Chaos Lord for pussy.”
“A devil is a devil no matter the reality,” Mazikeen said, chuckling. “Hope she’s worth it, kid.”
“Without question,” I said firmly. That was one hill I’d happily die on. Zatanna had so much potential; she was worth far more than a feud with Klarion. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have as my Bishop. And it’s not just her. The heroes here, there’s something special about them.”
“Right, that funny chess system. Cute, and way more clever than anything my Beelzebub’s ever managed,” Lucifer said, waving me off. “Now, the Amulet of Aten, you said? That has some potential. Are you planning on returning it to Ra in exchange for protection?”
I shook my head. “No, uncle. Back home, father is famous for fusing the Phenex clan hellfire with the flame of a sacred phoenix and the divine aura of Bennu. He created a seven-colored fire that was both holy and demonic.”
“And you want to replicate that. Paradox Flame. Flame of Judgement. Demiurgic Hellfire. It’s called a lot of things,” he said with smug superiority. In his hand was the seven-colored flame, a casual display of one-upmanship in case I ever had any doubts. “Michael and I are two sides of the same coin. Holy. Demonic. We really aren’t that different in the end.”
“I see. I’m glad to receive confirmation that it’s possible. I wasn’t sure if it could be done with materials from this reality.”
“It can. You’re on the right track. Mastery of hellfire and divine flames together would put you on a level playing field with a Lord of Chaos. Well, at least their avatar. Klarion’s pretty weak as far as those guys go.”
I bowed my head, not quite low enough to be servile, he didn’t like that sort of groveling, but enough to show respect. “Thank you for your advice, Lucifer.”
“Now, hold on. I’m not done. How about I give you a spellbook? One of the old ones from my collection.”
“A spellbook? I don’t think I can afford such a thing, not if you saw fit to keep it.”
“You can’t. It’s nothing too special, but I picked it up from the Silver City around… oh, about eight billion years ago? Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said. The tome, bound in the leather of a creature I could not name, appeared in his hand.
I took it with reverence. The title was written in a language so much more complex than anything on the mortal plane. I recognized it immediately. “Enochian. It’s written in Enochian.”
“Of course it is. It’s made for rookie angels. It’s more of a series of lectures on holiness and the nature of mana. It’s a lot more comprehensive than what humans have managed to figure out. Normally, I wouldn’t bother offering; most humans go insane when they try to decipher Enochian, but you’re not human. Want it?”
“I do. Of course I do. I just fear what it might cost me,” I admitted cautiously.
“Let’s say three favors; that’s a nice, classic number. After all, as someone who isn’t from this reality, you can act without drawing too much attention from my siblings.”
“That…” That sounded way too good. I expected him to demand a decade of my service, if not more. “Can I refuse them?”
He smiled dangerously. “I don’t recommend it. But fine, I won’t ask you to hand over your peerage or anything like that. I mostly just want a gopher who can take care of a few errands for me. I’m retired, you know.”
“I see. In that case, I accept, uncle,” I said solemnly. “Thank you for your guidance.”
I knew it’d be dangerous, but Klarion was already dangerous at my current level, anyway. I needed to break the ceiling into ultimate, perhaps even satan-class as quickly as possible.
Ultimately, he was the “Father of Lies,” but that itself was a falsehood, for he seldom lied. He likely did just want me to be his errand boy. He didn’t want more power. Nor did he have any true enemies. His immediate aim was simply to not be disturbed.
At best, he had annoyances. And while I knew that his idea of an “annoyance” was possibly apocalyptic to someone like me, that was just one reason he’d want me to be stronger. If he wanted to foster my growth so that I might better protect his peace and quiet, so be it.
X
Serling RoquettePhoenix Roost, NJ, USA
I put on my lip balm, which tasted nothing like the wild cherries the wrapper promised, and wrapped myself tight in the thickest jacket I owned. I was a Californian through and through and Gotham’s New Jersey chill was a pain in the ass. It was only early September, and the sun had just barely set, but I didn’t like it.
Next to me, Max stretched out his tight-fitting t-shirt, utterly unbothered by the brisk night air. Devils apparently got temperature resistance. I was tempted to accept Rigal’s offer for that alone.
As it was, I was leaning towards joining his peerage. It’d been a month since Rigal took me into his custody. I kept expecting the goofy, carefree mask to drop, revealing… I didn’t know, but surely a devil couldn’t really be as silly and easygoing as he pretended, right?
I was wrong. He could, and was.
He gave me a research budget several times larger than my previous lab’s. He treated Max like a little brother, encouraging him to explore and learn about the world, to form his own opinions and tastes. He made good on his promise to bring back Nora. Victor had nothing but good things to say about him. At this point, I was forced to conclude that he really was like this.
“So, where are we going?” Max said as he pocketed his wallet. “And why?”
“There are some things I want to buy, and I don’t like anything we have in the fridge so we can grab something tasty while we’re out,” I told him, batting my lashes. “A big, strong man like you wouldn’t let a young lady walk around alone at night, would you?”
He snorted but got ready anyway. “Fine, whatever. Say, you guys have different food in Star City, right?”
“We do. Gotham’s alright, but I think Star City has Gotham beat in terms of variety. Why? Wanna try something I used to eat a lot?”
“Yes, let’s.”
I tapped away on my smartphone and found one relatively close by. “Alright, come on. There’s a lot of Koreans and Mexicans in Star City so they ended up making some really tasty fusion food. Let’s see if Gotham can hold up.”
X
It did not. The kimchi pancake was soggy and greasy. The carne asada was tougher than my shoelaces. Just about the only thing they did right was melt copious amounts of cheese, but that was practically impossible to fuck up.
“Is it supposed to taste like this?” Max asked as he choked down what we’d been assured was supposed to be a quesadilla. “Pretty sure the only reason I can chew this is because I’m kryptonian.”
I got up and tossed the food away in disgust. “It’s not. Come on, let’s go get a pizza or something. I’ll introduce you to fusion food some other time, preferably in my hometown.”
We left that joke of a restaurant and continued on our way. Throughout the evening, I bought a few random quality of life things like a new curling iron, thicker socks, and several desktops for my personal use. Max strapped them all onto his back with all the unbothered grace of an alien-devil hybrid.
I’d pick the PCs apart for the best parts available when I got home. At this point, a Frankenstein’s monster of my own creation was far more likely to be worth my time. I tried buying Waynetech’s “best gaming laptop on the market” but the piece of junk melted on me in two days. “State of the art coolant” my ass.
I barely flinched as a man rounded the corner, hand on his gun. This was hardly the worst neighborhood in Gotham, but it wasn’t the best, either. My experiences in Star City led me to believe that the “barrios” had the best Mexican food and I’d hoped the same would be true here.
Normally, I wouldn't have been caught dead walking around here at night. But normally, I didn’t have a kryptonian bodyguard whose big brother would be very upset with him if something happened to me.
The would-be mugger got out two words that sounded like “Wallet, now–” before Max wrapped one hand over his gun barrel. He crushed the gun to pieces, grabbed the unlucky bastard by his collar, and tossed him back into the alley.
“So, what’s up? Made your decision, yet?” he asked, as if nothing had happened.
I blinked in surprise. “What decision?”
“The peerage decision. Thinking about joining up?”
“I… How did you–”
“You mutter out loud when you’re thinking really hard.”
“Fucking kryptonians,” I groaned. “I forgot how good your ears are.”
“Hey, it’s not just me. I’m pretty sure Rigal knows, too. He’s not as dumb as he acts, you know.”
“He does? Then why hasn’t he said anything?”
“He said he wanted to give you time, that giving up your humanity was a big decision.”
“Yeah, it is,” I whispered. I’d never been very good at philosophical stuff like this. Hard numbers and quantifiable data? I was a prodigy like few others. Moral philosophy or theology? I’d be lucky to remember what I read five minutes ago. “How about you? Do you like being a devil?”
He shrugged ambivalently. “What’s not to like? I have a bro who looks after me. I get to meet interesting people whenever I’m summoned. I think my life’s been pretty damn good compared to everyone else’s.”
“I guess it is.”
“Then again, I was never anything but a clone of Superman. You ask me if I like being a devil, but compared to what? I had no family, no history. Being a devil is all I know.”
“And that doesn’t bother you? I mean, I’m not that close to my family either, but…”
“It doesn’t. Rigal said humanity isn’t something you’re born with. It’s something you strive for. You know, empathy and all that jazz. I’m not sure what he meant exactly, but I’m starting to get it, I think.”
“That’s… That sounds right. I’m still not sure about being summoned to random people’s homes. How does that work?”
“You get summoned if they tear the bookmark and want something badly enough. Apparently, the magic picks which of us are the most suited to help.”
“That sounds like such a hassle. Watch, I’m going to get kidnapped and locked in some sweaty neckbeard’s basement,” I said, only half-joking. I’d never been especially vain, but I knew I was pretty.
“Ask Rigal, but I think there are protections against that kind of thing. Or Rigal will teleport us to you and then that’ll solve itself.”
“He’s going to insist on teaching me how to fight, isn’t he?”
“Almost definitely. A bit of self-defense is important. And besides, weren’t you interested in magic? Learning more about magic and learning how to turn someone inside out probably go hand in hand.”
“Fair enough, I guess. I’d also be much stronger physically than I am now.”
“Yeah, that too.”
We walked along for a while longer. Eventually, we found a cheap pizzeria, the kind of no-frills place with only four toppings: cheese, sauce, pepperoni, and sausage. Each slice was three bucks, the size of my face, and came out steaming hot within the minute.
Max ordered four and promptly folded them into neat spirals. One by one, he crammed them in his mouth with all the grace of a battering ram. Had he been anything approaching normal, the roof of his mouth would have peeled from the scalding sauce.
“Fuck yeah, this is so much better,” he groaned through a mouthful of dough.
I rolled my eyes. It was like having a kid brother, not that I had one. “You’re gross. I know Rigal taught you better manners than this.”
“He did, for hoity-toity devil society stuff. This ain’t that,” he said, still munching. He reached for his coke and took a long slurp. “Say, Serling.”
“Yes?” I asked, nibbling on my far more reasonable single slice. It was dusted with onion powder and oregano, just how I liked it. “What’s up?”
“Are you going to make the Fog again? I don’t really get it, but it’s a big deal, right?”
“I… I don’t know,” I admitted. “It wasn’t always a weapon. A nanite swarm can be used for molecular-level repair, surgery, or just plain ol’ manufacturing. I wanted to help the world, not cause so much trouble.”
“So it needs a better controller? Kinda like a TV remote, right? And maybe make sure it can’t be hacked or stolen?”
“That’s so not how that works,” I complained. His understanding of technology was… limited. Then again… “Well, maybe…? Abra Kadabra had a lot of interesting cybernetics. Hacking a nanite swarm could become exponentially more difficult if I was to integrate it with future technology.”
“Is that how it works? Can you slap on any two pieces of tech together? Like those toy blocks kids play with?”
“LEGOs. And no, not at all. But even if they’re not directly compatible, just trying to reverse engineer Abra’s stuff will push my own research forward. Then, I’ll be able to adapt some of those futuristic principles to my own work.”
“Sounds complicated. There’s also the magic stuff, right? You and Rigal are both smarter than me. I’m sure you can figure it out, if you want to build another Fog.”
“Right. Magitech does sound fascinating, but they say that curiosity killed the cat, you know.”
He leaned back against the side of a building. There was an infuriatingly smug smirk on his face. For that alone, I could believe he and Rigal really were siblings. “They do. I also heard that satisfaction can bring them back.”
I let out a rueful chuckle. “Guess I need to have a chat with Rigal. Joining his peerage doesn’t sound awful. When did he say he’d be back?”
“Tomorrow? I’m not sure. He said something about going to Los Angeles.”
“Fine, I can wait. I’m totally not going to join his harem, though. I still can’t believe that’s a normal thing in the Underworld. Talk about going backwards on women’s rights.”
“Apparently, a strong enough woman can also have a harem,” he pointed out. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Is sex fun?”
I felt blood rush to my face. “I-That’s an inappropriate question.”
“You’ve never done it?”
“I-I have!”
“I can hear your heartbeat.”
“Because it’s inappropriate!” I growled and stood, marching back towards the Phoenix Roost.
“Sure, if you say so,” Max said with a shit-eating grin. It wasn’t even that he knew what sex was like, or even had any real interest in that sort of thing. No, he was a kid who found he could get a reaction out of me.
“I do say so,” I huffed. So what if I’d never had a boyfriend? Dating was hard when you skipped several grades.
Max flew to catch up. “Alright, my bad. Dating’s a touchy subject, got it. I’ll stop.”
“Thank you.”
“Besides, Rigal wouldn’t make you do anything like that. He’s very big on freedom and whatnot.”
“That’s the only reason I’m even considering this. That, and the magitech. That does sound fascinating. I’ll have a chat with him, but I want a contract. Written. With paid time off. And complete freedom of research. And ownership of the things I make.”
“Heh, welcome to the family, doc.”
Author’s Note
Rigal has officially been adopted into the DC extended family. That said, I hope it’s clear that Lucifer doesn’t feel any true paternal love for Rigal or anything. At best, Rigal is an interesting diversion.
Dear ol’ Uncle Luci refused to beat up Klarion, but he did give Rigal the means to grow powerful in his own right. What will Luci ask for in exchange?
I’m assuming Star City is something similar to San Francisco or San Jose. SF really does have some of the best fusion food. Anyway, incoming Pawn-quette. How many pieces would she take? One? Three?
Animal Fact: Humpback whales hunt with “nets” made of bubbles. It stands as one of the most sophisticated hunting behaviors of any animal.
One humpback will dive and rise again in a spiralling motion. At the same time, it will blow bubbles from its blowhole, creating a circular column of bubbles that rise to the surface.
However, the nature of bubbles is that they don’t last very long and can’t form too deep (pressure issues). The school of fish is usually lower than the bubble net. So, another humpback will dive even lower. It will create vocalizations that rattle and disorient the fish, driving the school upward and into the “net.”
The bubbles keep the fish from escaping by disorienting them further. The rest of the pod seizes this opportunity, enclosing the “net” from all sides as they rise to the surface. Then, trapped between the whales and the air, the fish have nowhere to go.
If you think about it, it’s kinda fucked up. Intelligent leviathans who show up and wipe out your entire society using a superweapon you can’t conceptualize in about four minutes is just a fact of life for a herring.