"I think you’ve found your true calling, Samuel."

"I could definitely be a rock star," he said. "Well, if I were human, anyway."

"It must be nice, you know, to be able to do anything you want. The options are endless for them. Our existence is pre-written, but mortals—they're given this big, beautiful world and the free will to do whatever they want in it. And so many don’t appreciate it. I just wonder what it would be like to be able to choose . . . if we were the ones who were given that precious gift and not them."

Samuel’s smile gradually faded as he stared at her. "Serah, don’t."

"Don’t what?"

"I’ve heard those words before," he said, a hard edge to his low voice. "They were spoken to me mere hours before I watched my friend cast his own brother into the lake of fire forever. And I can’t . . . Serah, you can’t think that way."

She gasped, eyes widening when she realized what he meant by his words. "Samuel, I would never! Satan hates the mortals. He’s full of wrath and pride and envy. I’m not!"

"I know," he said quietly. "But I also know there’s a thin line between good and evil. There’s a gray area, one we all step into. And that’s okay, I think. We’re not immune to emotions. Just promise me you won’t ever step past it. You won’t ever let it consume you. That you’ll be careful."

"I promise," she said. "You don’t have to worry about me. I have everything I could ever need. I have friends, and I have my work, and I have you—my brother. As long as I have you, I’d be a fool to ask for more."

Things were quiet as the two sat in thought. Music continued to rock the car near them with the two young lovers inside. Nicholas and Samantha, celebrating six months together—a milestone they might’ve never reached had it not been for Samuel intervening in their lives.

"What would you do?" he asked after a while. "If you were human, what would you want to be?"

Her response was certain, no hesitation in her words. "A race car driver."

The answer instantly lightened the mood as Samuel cracked another smile. "Really, sis? A race car driver?"

"Yes. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to drive a car. They’re one of the human’s most amazing creations, one that keeps evolving. Cars are practical, yet exciting. And people get paid to race them, like a sport! Can you believe that?"

"Wow." Samuel studied her with surprise. "For the first time in over a millennium, I’m learning something new about you. I never realized you liked cars."

Serah glanced at the one parked near them. "That’s my favorite car. It’s a 1966 Pontiac GTO convertible, cherry red."

Samuel scrunched up his nose. "Looks orange to me."

"That’s because it’s in bad shape," Serah said. "It’s beautiful when it’s taken care of."

"So, huh, there’s one problem with this whole thing."

"What’s that?"

"I’ve been told women are terrible drivers."

Rolling her eyes, Serah shoved him hard, knocking him off the side of the cliff. He dropped a few feet, plummeting toward the ground, but he expanded his wings and flew right back up to her. He retook his seat with a laugh, playfully nudging her.

"The rock star and the race car driver," he said. "We make quite the pair."

She wrapped her arm around his and leaned against his shoulder. "We do."

"You weren’t entirely right a while ago, you know. Sure, humans have endless options, but their lives are just as written as ours. Just look at Nicholas and Samantha. We know everything they’ll do from today until the day they die. Nicholas will work in a factory, and Samantha will be a teacher’s assistant. They’ll have one kid, a little girl named Nicole. The moment I shoved them together, their future was determined, and the only way it’ll ever change is if one of us changes it for them. Us, Ser."

"But they chose those lives," Serah said. "We just happen to know what they’ll choose."

"Yeah, we know," he said. "That’s the point. There are no surprises when it comes to mortals. We’re the ones who surprise God. We’re the ones who divert from his path. Say what you will about Lucifer, but one thing is undeniable: he was the first to defy destiny. And being the first to do anything takes guts."

"Can I ask you something?"

Serah turned over a nine, not at all surprised when Lucifer flipped over a queen.

He sighed, sliding the cards onto the bottom of his pile. "How many times do I have to say it? You have to win to get answers."

"It’s not about that stuff," she said, playing a king. Lucifer played a two. Serah smiled as she grabbed the cards. "It’s about this place . . . about you."

Curious eyes regarded her from across the room as Lucifer twirled his finger, overturning a seven. "What?"

"You said you feel everything everyone else feels," she said, playing a three. "You said it was agonizing, that being down here was torment, that empathy was a curse. You said—"

"I know what I said," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Is there a question in there somewhere? Because I didn’t hear one."

"How is it so quiet?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Quiet?"