Lucifer couldn't remember the last time he actually slept in his bed.
A long time ago, when his home still stood, Dis served as a staging post for the Devils' part played in the Chain; a processing station coupled with a settlement for the workers on assignment there. He had his own dwelling built there too. A vacation palace for him and his family, complete with all of the features of his fortress back in Pandemonium. His daughter had a whole apartment and rec room to herself, while the master bedroom - though a far cry from his actual home - was just quaint and comfortable enough to lend it a real sense of charm.
These days, however... There was no warmth to his bedroom. It was a cold, desolate chamber that only housed the memories that were once made there. Everything - from the reclining couches to the grand four-poster bed - was covered in a thick layer of dust. Not even the servants were allowed in to clean.
Lucifer couldn't bring himself to sleep in that bed. It used to be so warm, and now... it was far too cold, even for the likes of him.
Slowly, the King of Demons stalked across his room, towards the window looking out over the Barbed Plains. Despite how dim it was, the half-gloom of Damnation still stung his eyes.
He couldn't remember the last time he slept at all. Most nights - or days, it was hard to tell down here - were spent in his office, balled up on the couch or splayed out over his desk. Swallowing hard, he glanced over at a faded picture sitting on one of the bedside tables. A family portrait, painted by an old Devil master who didn't survive the Rapture. There Lucifer stood in full regalia, beaming with a hand upon his young daughter's head. And beside him, eyes agleam and horns shining, was...
Tears. Salty, bitter things. They didn't come to him easily anymore; after all, why cry when you've already lost everything? But the mere sight of that picture... of the family he had lost...
He stepped over to the family portrait and picked it up in a pair of weathered, shaking hands.
"What do I do, my sweet?" he asked in a low tone.
Behind him, his sweeping tail cut tracts into the dust.
"She's... She's too far gone. She just doesn't understand. I promised I'd do my best for her, and she still pushes me away! I just-!"
He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep, shuddering breath. He set the picture back down before turning to a larger picture on the wall. It was covered by a tarp, but upon pulling it away, it revealed a stunning portrait of a beautiful Devil queen, garbed in a pristine dress and wearing a dazzling smile. Even amongst a backdrop of the finest gardens in Pandemonium, she still stole the scene. Lucifer remembered painting this one himself. Every brushstroke, every dip of the paint, every tiny error he made... How he had to keep telling her to stop laughing and stay still, how she said she was too enamoured by the thought of raising a family of her own to stop giggling...
Placing a hand against the portrait, Lucifer gently rested his forehead upon the canvas, as if he were trying to connect with the painting's subject.
"... Give me a sign, Lilith. Anything. I can't... I can't lose her too... Not our baby girl..."
"My lord?"
He glanced over at the door. Shadows shuffled about from beyond, blocking out the light eking through from beneath. Balling his fists, Lucifer's features hardened as he marched over and threw the door open, revealing his ever-faithful manservant.
"What?" he growled, narrowing his eyes.
Fero cleared his throat nervously and began rummaging through the notes in his hand.
"I understand you're busy, but I fear this is of the utmost importance."
"Spit it out already."
"Of course. Just a moment, then I'll let you get back to your..."
His voice trailed off as he saw the uncovered portrait just over the King of Demons' shoulder. Fero's eyes widened as his mouth dropped open a little.
"On second thoughts, my lord, I can come back later," he suggested.
Lucifer shook his head and stepped out into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind him.
"Just get it over with, Fero," he sighed, massaging his temples.
"R- Right, right, of course. Just a moment..."
As Lucifer marched in the direction of his war room, the Devil butler trotted along after him, almost dropping his notes in an effort to keep up.
"Ah, here we are. It's about Epsilon," he explained, reading off a page of hastily-scribbled reports.
Lucifer felt his stomach drop, like a stone had settled right in the middle of his gut.
"What's he done now?" he sighed, descending a flight of stairs.
"He hasn't checked in with scouts at the appointed times."
"Well he was never very orthodox about his methods, not to mention he had precious little respect for protocol to begin with."
Entering the war room, he slowly rounded the table, squinting hard at the maps spread out all over it. They were each covered in inked markings and scribbled notes; everywhere was covered, save for that accursed little town in Aporue, right where Tempered Bastion 31-3 used to be.
"Just give it to me straight, Fero," the King of Demons grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, "Epsilon has slipped his leash, hasn't he?"
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
He expected as much, in all honesty. Epsilon was a murderous wildcard; sending him back out there with only a flimsy promise of freedom was hardly a stellar plan. But he was getting desperate.
"We combed all of Hell for him, my lord," Fero continued, nodding to the maps.
"I know that much. I was hoping you would have found him by now; he's hardly the stealthiest Devil in-"
"He's dead."
Lucifer's breath died in his throat.
"... Excuse me?"
Reaching into his bundle of documents, Fero produced a photograph and slowly slid it across to his lord.
"There are many pictures like these circulating around that town, my lord. At this point, the death of the Alpha Corps is an open secret."
Lucifer picked the picture up and brought it up to his face. It was him; that same weedy Incubus boy, though this time... he looked different. He was ragged and shirtless, absolutely drenched in blood as he carried a mutilated Nymph in his arms. He was standing in a hospital waiting room, bloodied footprints leading all the way to the door. Everyone else clung to the slightly-blurred edges of the photo, horrified looks plastered upon their faces.
Blood was splattered all around his mouth, and his eyes were ablaze. The eyes of a far-gone Incubus. A Devourer of Pandemonium.
"How... How is this possible?"
"I don't know my lord-"
Lucifer slammed his fist down upon the table.
"The Alpha Corps have dealt with Incubi before! Fully grown hordes of them! What makes this one so fucking special?!" he barked, throwing the picture back.
"I- I don't know, my lord, but-!"
"It's that fucking contract, isn't it?! Devils and Incubi were never supposed to interact like this! It's unnatural, and now everything I've worked for could be ruined because of it!"
Fero took a step back.
"M- My lord, I'm sure-!"
"THAT UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BRAT!"
Grabbing the underside of the table, Lucifer upended the entire thing in a mighty show of strength, splitting it down the middle and sending the maps flying. Fero threw himself out of the way as the broken furniture crashed to the ground, rattling the weapon displays all around them and causing some of Lucifer's war trophies to clatter to the floor. He stood there, breathing like a bull as an old halo slowly rolled over to his feet.
"... I cannot rightly call her my daughter anymore," he breathed, stomping on it hard enough to shatter it into pieces.
Fero's eyes went wide.
"My lord!" he gasped, shocked at his words.
"She's betrayed her people. She's betrayed me. But most of all, she's betrayed her mother. If she could see her now..." he said, gritting his teeth.
The King of Demons shook his head and pointed at Fero.
"Gather the masses. Everyone; have them down tools if needs be. I have an announcement to make."
"But-!"
"Now, Fero!"
Scrambling up straight, the butler bowed courteously before rushing out of the war room.
Lucifer remained where he was, fists balled and shaking as the wreckage of the war room settled all around him. To think that his daughter - the next in line to rule the Devils - was consorting with a thrice-damned Incubus...! He didn't want to believe it at first! For so long he tried to rationalise some kind of reason for her making that contract, but with the last of the Alpha Corps dead barring the pair of them, he couldn't fool himself any longer.
How could she?! How could she turn her back on her own people for the sake of one of the very beasts that took her own mother from her?!
Outside the fortress, he heard a droning klaxon echo throughout Damnation, signaling a change of shift. It blared again, then again, signaling that every was to gather for an emergency announcement, something that hadn't occurred for well over a century or so.
Lucifer took a sharp breath and marched out of the destroyed war room. His audience awaited.
He stormed through his home, barging past confused maintenance workers and maidservants as he went. Climbing a set of stairs, he grabbed a long dark coat off a hook outside of his office and pulled it on before throwing open the doors to the balcony.
The entirety of Dis had gathered in the central square at such notice; a testament of the discipline they still had, even after all this time. Workers, soldiers, the old, the young, and everyone in between; they all looked up at their king with wide, reverent eyes.
They still idolised him. Even after all he had done to fail them. Despite their sunken gazes, their drawn mouths and their shattered hopes, the Devils of Dis still looked to Lucifer for answers.
Well, this time would be different from all the others. This time he had a solution. Far ahead of schedule perhaps, and riskier than he would like to admit, but he was done waiting.
Now was the time for action.
"My dearest subjects. The time has come," he announced, gripping the edge of the balcony tightly.
The soldiers all saluted at his words.
"We are an exiled people, robbed of our home by invaders, decimated by beasts and cast out by those a thousand times our lesser. Of this, I am well aware, as I am well aware of my own failings."
Lucifer took a deep breath.
"I have let you all down. I couldn't protect Pandemonium. I couldn't protect your families. I couldn't even protect my own."
He could hear a few encouraging cries rise from the masses of Devils beneath him, but their platitudes didn't soothe him much.
"But," the King of Demons continued, straightening his back, "I have finally decided upon a course of action."
He raised his fist up.
"Hell - our home - is no longer the halcyon paradise we once knew. Our works have been bastardised, torn apart, and buried. Our names have been wiped from the annals of history. We are just bogeymen to the lesser demons. But still, there exists reminders that we once lived."
Surrounding the crowds, he could see his loyal soldiers gaze up expectantly.
"There exists an intact Tempered Bastion. Serial number 31-3; a troop transport and staging post, buried right beneath their noses."
A shocked murmur rang out from amongst the crowd. There was no putting this genie back in the bottle; this news would give them hope. Hope that their legacy hadn't been completely erased.
"Do you all understand what this means? It means we finally have a foothold in Hell. An entire Bastion, filled with weapons, equipment and supplies, ready to be called to action once again. From there... we can finally start reclaiming our home!" he announced, raising both of his arms.
The crowd was thrown into an uproar, ecstatic at the prospect of finally getting out of Damnation. But as his people rejoiced, all Lucifer felt was a lump form in his throat.
They didn't know that their beloved princess was a traitor, and that the first order of business when they got to Hell would be to hunt her down and...
"And once we've taken Hell," Lucifer yelled, distracting himself from that dour thought, "we'll turn our sights higher! You all know how it feels to have your home ripped from under you! We deserve recompense for over a thousand years of isolation! We'll storm the face of Earth, and we'll take that too!"
His soldiers raised their weapons and cheered as the common people held each other and rejoiced, overjoyed at this news.
"With our home back and Earth under our yoke, we'll build a new Pandemonium, bigger and brighter than ever before! And when we stand proud within our fair city once again...!"
He grinned.
"... Then we'll set our sights on Heaven itself!" the King of Devils roared, thrusting his fists into the air and spreading his wings out wide.
His audience exploded, their combined voices echoing throughout the massive cavern of Damnation. As they whooped and celebrated, Lucifer took a moment to catch his breath, leaning against the balustrade for support. To his left, he caught sight of Fero staring at him with a displeased expression.
"What?" he asked bitterly, glaring at his manservant.
"My lord, all these promises... you have to tell them the risks," he whispered, taking a step closer.
Lucifer shook his head.
"I'm done cowering in the dark, Fero. They need their leader back. They need a king, not a coward."
"But... Lady Zel-"
"She made her damn choice!"
He clenched his fists.
"When the time comes, I'll deal with her myself."