Hannah scrunched up her nose. "Really? Satan?"

"And me," she whispered as the little girls started over again, singing the rhyme from the beginning. Made a mistake and kissed a snake. . . "Was it?"

"Are you okay?" Concern laced Hannah’s voice. "You’re worrying me, Serah."

"I don’t know," she said quietly. "I don’t know about anything anymore."

The girls started over for the third time, but Serah didn’t stick around to listen. She left Hannah without saying goodbye, teleporting to the field in Heaven. As soon as she appeared, an alarming sensation swam through her. With a deep breath, a succulent sweetness entered her lungs, the perfume of the countless wildflowers blanketing the land. She plucked a handful from the ground and brought them to her nose. Inhaling, she was taken aback by the fragrance, so strong a bitter tang tickled the back of her throat.

That alone broke the doubt she’d had in her mind.

She headed for Hellum Township, rushing through the gates and running straight into Hell, no hesitation in her footsteps as she burst through the force field, flowers still in hand. She sprinted for the tower, hurrying down the corridor, and burst through the wooden doors into the meeting room.

Lucifer sat in his throne, appearing slightly worse for wear but still in one piece as he frivolously overturned cards with a flick of the finger. His expression was hard, his eyes clouded with a faraway look as he avoided her gaze. Across the room from him, in the chair Serah had occupied day after day, sat a skinny, trembling man. He looked over at Serah with terrified eyes. "Please help me," he whispered, imploring her. "Angel of the Lord, I beg for your mercy."

Before Serah could even think of how to respond, Lucifer raised his arm, methodically closing his hand into a fist, stealing the voice right from the tortured soul. The man continued his pleading, his lips frantically moving, but no sound escaped. He grasped his throat, horror spiking in his expression as his eyes darted back to the King of Hell.

"Play," Lucifer barked.

The man quickly flipped over the next card on his meager stack.

"As you can see, I’m busy, so speak your piece and leave."

Serah held her hand out. "Here."

Lucifer glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. "You brought me flowers?"

"Take them."

"No."

"Smell them."

"You smell them."

"I did," she said. "Just a moment ago."

His brow furrowed slightly as he gazed at her. Serah waited for him to react, for him to press her for an explanation, but he simply turned away after a moment, going right back to his game as if she weren’t even there. Slowly, she lowered her hand, still grasping the flowers, as anger surged through her at being disregarded.

She spun around, facing the terrified man. "He cheats, you know. He’s such a spineless coward that he can’t even play fair."

"Enough," Lucifer spat through clenched teeth.

"He thinks I find him pathetic, but really, I’m the pathetic one," she continued. "Pathetic because I thought maybe there was more to him than this. Maybe he wasn’t hopeless. Stupid me, right? I actually thought for a second that Satan—"

Lucifer stood up, a crack of unexpected thunder ripping across the ceiling and cutting her off mid-rant. All of the candles extinguished in a whoosh, leaving them in the dark. The floor near Serah suddenly opened up, fire raging from the crack as Lucifer threw the man into it, his screams cut off as the floor sealed once again. Lucifer stalked forward, heading straight for her, stopping when they were toe-to-toe, towering above her, his chest pressed against hers. Rage radiated off of him as he glared down at her, his eyes ablaze in the dark room, his nostrils flaring. "You have some fucking nerve."

"Why?" she demanded, refusing to back down. She thrust the flowers at him, punching him in the chest with them clenched tightly in her fist. "What’s happening to me?"

"What’s happening to you, angel, is that you’re finally starting to realize this perfect world you live in isn’t as perfect as it’s made it out to be," Lucifer said, snatching the flowers from her. "You’re starting to realize Daddy isn’t all He’s cracked up to be."

"Blasphemy."

"You can curse me all you want," he continued. "It doesn’t make it any less true. The signs are all there."

"You’re wrong."

"Am I?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Tell me you don’t feel the chill in the air, that you can’t feel my breath on your skin." He reached over, running the back of his hand along her pale cheek. She shivered at the sensation, tingles running down her body as his hand ran down her neck, trailing along her chest, between her breasts. "Tell me you feel nothing from that. I fucking dare you."

She smacked his hand away. "You’re disgraceful."

"But I’m right."

"You’ve done this," she accused. "This is your fault."

"Oh, I haven’t done anything to you, angel." He leaned forward, his lips near her ear as he whispered, "Yet."

Lucifer stepped back as the candles once again ignited, his eyes trailing the length of her slowly, before he turned around and stalked back over to his throne. He sat down and kicked his legs out, waving for her to take a seat, but she didn’t move.

"We’re a lot alike, you and me," he said, "whether you want to believe it or not. I feel things. I taste things. I’ve always wanted more. Fuck, I can even cry, too."