Chapter Four: The Unraveling of Memories

The scenery of bliss could not escape the eye. Rows upon rows of clouds rolled through the sky. Sections in the cluster break out, raying outward the subtlest amounts of sunlight. In a photonic dance, light carries down specks of glitter that reflect off everything beautiful. The ocean off in the distance, a leaf on a tree's branch, blades of grass, greenery, and small creatures alike bounce on their toes, moving in a no longer static but rhythmic way. Halos in the form of white rings appeared on the object's reflection. The pure light coming in through the holes above, the excess condensation, the wisps within the larger cloud formations, and the hot moisture developing in the atmosphere. All contributed to the halo's optical illusion. Precipitation was the cause of such phenomena.

Hills expanded outwards, the next larger than the slope prior. Far off, powdery white and cool blue mountains eclipsed the northern enclosure.

In the Garden of Eden. Lucifer walks one foot directly in front of the other. His eyes closed. He is the fool. He raises his arms to his side, straightened and stretched out like man at the cross. Full of vigor. A joyful smile on his face connected his ears. He bent toward the sky, laughing.

Directly above him, a slight discrepancy in the clouds allowed for a small plush of warmth that touched his forehead. It was as though the light thrived to reach him but was kept from its other half, carried out by the sheer volume of a nebula formulating in the backdrop as rumbles overhead passed in through the southbound.

He had short black hair and red horns. A foot in length for each horn breached from the top of his head. Tan skin, soft lips, straight teeth, symmetrical and cut. There wasn't a scratch on him. The majority believe him to be perfect. There was a normality to Lucifer that he brought everywhere he went, in every action, in every word. A nonchalant gesticulation predisposed to confidence covered his truer ambitions. A confidence so ferocious and so high will swallow the opposition whole.

He was barefoot and wore black slickers. Shirtless, his body was a temple in peak physical condition. He had six black wings. They connected to the spine, filling Lucifer's back with feathers that expanded several feet outward.

His chest was marked in red ink. Strange alchemical symbols resided within one larger, more sophisticated line structure. There was this cursive circle; tiny words and sentences were written circularly, and the sphere was highlighted by an amber glow. It held the multigram and, within that, the symbols. It was deemed "The Law Defyer" by his peers. Capable of accessing millions of different powers and abilities. Comparable to infinity. The Law Defyer had no limit. It was a fake overlay unit for a quantum nexus point where new powers within the multiverse—nay, all of creation—spawned. The technology of the future is derived from an old science. Alchemy.

Lucifer faced a cliff that towered him several hundred feet up in the garden. It was displaced in the ground, tilted, and the entire surface matched the floor crookedly. It should not have been there. Pieces of debris fell from the rock wall, tossing up dirt and crashing on impact.

"Lucifer, you idiot, do you know what you've done?" The young lad was indeed angered by what had been taken from him.

The memory was of this person getting up from a knee. Cliffside to his back. You weren't able to see much of his face. Intersections, scratches, and lines made a deformity of the memory. The imagery of his face came out, though, as if it had been scribbled on. Etched into by a chisel and a hammer. It felt. Enamor.

He was outfitted in white armor. Light carbon-based materials are tailored to the young man's build perfectly. The chest plate was cracked; he tore it off, along with his damaged gorget. Underneath the gorget were a shredded gameson and gussets of leather strappings that crossed his torso. What was left of his combat attire were his left gauntlet, shin guards, and the entire lower half, which essentially remained untouched besides chippings and scratches on the thigh-to-boot region. The chainmail was displaced from around his neck and shoulders, too long for his outfit now; it hung a few inches down around his hips.

Another memory overlapped with the current sequence.

Land mammals such as deer, foxes, bears, koalas on trees, packs of wolves in search of an S.O.S., etc. scatter deep into the woods, tails tucked between their legs. Birds in flocks rise and don't look back; they up and leave.

Lucifer was blocking a barrage of lightning-speed attacks. A few punches got through his guard. He had to evade by teleporting miles from the vicinity.

"Slow," the youngster said.

"He's already behind me? I had turned to see that stabbed-out face of his. His right arm rose, burning blue, full of infinite energies waiting to be released. He shot his arm out as if it were a catapult and sounded like it too, letting his fist go in my direction."

Lucifer froze time with a single plank left. Death called for his name.

"I can take this opportunity to kill him; that's what I was telling myself then. I brought forth a long spear of dark matter, gripping it in the middle. If I couldn't end him by conventional means, then I would take it upon myself to somehow create an empty space in his vessel, returning him to his original form. Everything's in its original state. Nothingness."

Chapter Five: Confrontation in the Heavens

Everything started to make a cymbal-like noise, as if flimsy sheet metal were wobbling under the weight of a thousand iron hammers. If you listen close enough, through the clamor, time is being twisted. Gears of time are attempting to turn by a man in complete stasis. I noticed his right arm twitched before the laws of physics released his body. He was now in continuation.

Time had been shattered, and reality was affected at the seams in a way never before seen. The tint, tone, and vividness of the infinite azure they were fighting in darkened a shade, and the saturated blues of the sky pigmented into neutral colors.

Lucifer was right there, so close to victory; all he needed was this one fatal blow. He hit him first.

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Lucifer awoke to debris, unsure where he was anymore. He understood what had happened; he knew that much, just not to what extent. He attempted to get up but was only half a head away from regenerating the rest of his being.

The young man had destroyed the terrain: the ground had caved in, the mountains were now level, and the sea should have been in the line of sight. There was no water to see.

The discolored clouds were dispersed. The sensation of quakes shook hibernating sloths, woke volcanoes, and collected innocence in the crossfire. Paradise in the apocalypse caused by a single punch.

Lucifer was back, fully healed. It felt like scratching an itch, putting his structure back together, and regrowing the brain, muscles, bones, and skin. He didn't want to get up; he had to. Rolled to his side from his stomach, pushing off the rubble.

"I looked for him; he was above me. He wasn't that hard to find; he wanted to be seen. That was him—the biggest ego in existence. None will be equal; he impressed himself."

"I make my way towards him unfazed. It was a poker face on my part. I had the idea in my head that I could transfer the nervousness and trepidation by doing so. Was he a man of no discomposure? Perturbation? I was never able to wrap my head around someone who could easily conquer these emotions."

"He came down from the sky. My eyes squinted at the radiance emitting from his right arm. It was getting brighter and amassing power. If you recall, the color was gone; his right hand was still burning blue."

"I almost couldn't call it blue. It was more of a condensed dimension than simply saying it was a color. It was as if the liquids and matters of the world were used for: picking up ink for his quill, watering the plants, and doing the most basic tasks. What a waste."

"In a fit, I summoned another dark matter spear, mashing it with an anti-substance of similar materials and grasping it from the middle."

"He never touched the ground; instead, he hovered over me. He wouldn't allow us to be on equal terms. This was as close as face-to-face was going to get for us, and for what? Because he prefers the high road."

The memory skipped to the next instance, a broken record of recollections.

Lucifer moves his head from the center line, narrowly dodging a direct punch from the glowing right fist. He never takes his eyes off of it, not even for a second. A head kick surprises Lucifer from the left side. He partially blocks it. The kick's power is strong enough to blast his guard away, creating an opening. The man cocks his fist back, throwing it faster than light speed.

His eyes opened; they shimmered red. The pupils were replaced with lines that formed the invocation circles known as the "Cycle of Pie." Six overlapping circles blossomed in the eye; each circle is divided into six intersecting lines and has six symbols. They resemble six pie charts in the eyes, with symbols in the middle of those charts, transparent on the inside, relaying massive amounts of data to Lucifer at the attosecond.

Lucifer had to enhance his perception by using several of the Cycle of Pie’s innate skills in combination to get away from the attack. The Lion's Heart *activated* Ill Will *activated* Symbolic Prayer *activated* The Symbol for Unknown ““*activated*. His eyes pulsated and snapped four times, with each ability going off in a chain of succession.

The Lion’s Heart: Doubled the user's strength, speed, durability, endurance, and the brain's total processing capabilities upon activation, taking roughly nine months away from Lucifer's lifespan. Ill will was a backup plan contingent on whether he was hit. Whatever will befall Lucifer could also be ejected out of the eyes of the beholder. Essentially, he can inflict just as much damage as was dealt to him by anything he is seeing at the time, pinpointing and then becoming a condenser of force. This chipped two months away from his lifespan. Symbolic Prayer: A fortification blessing that was used for healing and overall defense came in the form of translucent prayer hands that slapped around, encapsulating Lucifer in a pod. He was kept protected within the imaginary hands. This power needed five months. The Symbol for the Unknown’s skill was never found out, but Lucifer believes it had something to do with luck. It was only discovered because it had double the amount of generic ‘A’ masses when compared to the other known skills held in the Cycle of Pie itself. The cost for the unknown was unknown; the rough estimate was one hundred years.

He manages to get his head on the outside of the punch. The blowback from the attack caused high winds that increased in speed. Boulders were being tossed from the ground way up, and trees were detached from their roots.

Lucifer opened his wings and was taken away, not being able to control himself. He put them at rest, backflipping as he fell from the sky. He slid upon landing. Mid-slide, the man took Lucifer's hand, raising it above their heads like how a man might take a woman at a ball, signifying he was leading this literal dance.

From his side, he sweeps Lucifer's legs. Lucifer manages to catch his fall, back handspring, and land perfectly before he backs up again, creating a distance of about 3 feet.

Lucifer was huffing to get some oxygen back into his body. Sweat perspires profusely from his face. He couldn't hold on much longer. The facade was unable to keep up with the overwhelming power at hand.

"Tired?" he asked menacingly.

One word shook Lucifer to the core. His hands began to tremble, his eyes rattled, and the pumping of further blood to the heart made breathing the only necessity. The scare had caused significantly more exhaustion on top of the fatigue setting in.

The man approached forwardly, and Lucifer, in response, walked back into the southpaw position, raising his right hand to his head, just in case of an incoming attack. A response that comes from years of combat and a little fear.

In vociferation he says, "Woah, Lucy!" He acted both surprised and startled. He sounded, oddly enough, as though he had just awoken from a nap. That was the way in which he was weary. He showed Lucifer his hands, saying that he did no harm and couldn't hurt a fly. He said, "I just want to talk."

Lucifer couldn't intervene, even if he wanted to.

Continuing, he spoke. "It was a genuine question, you know. If you are tired, Lucifer, go to bed. We can discuss this in the morning, but right now, it is rather crucial we end this, don't you think?" He stopped himself from losing control. You could see it in his face. He cleared his throat while standing tall, took a moment to gather himself, and spoke. "I do not have time for games." He wiped his shoulders, dusting them off. "I'm going back to the Kabala. You will stay put, and we will go to the New World. You will receive your punishment there. What that is, I do not know myself."

With his right hand to his heart now, he shook his head. Whether the motion made was in denial, shame, or woe, Lucifer does not remember. He did not say a word—the silence of the lambs.

But he did not have to speak when he could pontificate anything to Lucifer. The way he interacted with others, the choices he made, and his wants. It spoke to Lucifer in a way that only he could understand. The telltale signs of idiocy, Lucifer could see, but the rest of the heavens could not. It was attributed to how well they knew each other, a test that could only be assessed over time. One did not know more about the other; they had sufficient knowledge of each other in every way except opportunity.