Light Bringer

       THERE  WERE  NOT  MANY  WHOM     belial  could  not  withstand  seeing  once  again ,   despite  the  lifetime’s  worth  of  grudges  he’s  earned   &   shall  continue  to  build  up .   but  Lucifer ,   former  supreme  primarch ,   perfection  in  it’s  entirety ,   something  unnamed  builds  in  where  his  stomach  would  be   —   he  thinks  it  had  been  there  since  when  it  was  just  the  three  of  them   —   causing  he  -  serpent  to  hesitate  one  second  more  before  hurrying  to  Lucifer’s  side .

     how  frightening  to  think  the  dead  do  not  stay  dead .

     hands  are  quick  to  wrap  around  the  other’s  face ,   hands  obscuring  the  eyes  as  though  a  child  playing  with  with  their  friends ,   holding  the  archangel  there  .

❛❛   surprise !   are all your memories in tact ,   why don’t you take a guess who i am ?  ❜❜  

     crooned  with  all  the  emphasis  of  an  old  friend ,   the  exclamation  thick  with  both  a  sickly  sweet  nostalgia   &   baleful  mockery ,   as  if  amused  at  a  joke  only  the  serpent  knew  of .   he  holds  the  hostility  between  his  teeth ,   tucks  it  against  the  inside  of  his  cheek   &   prods  the  conversation  with  its  perverse ,   private  humor .   around  the  tip  of  his  finger ,   he  twists  a  short  lock  of  milk  -  pale  hair .

    ❛❛   i’ll be reeaal upset if you ended up forgetting about me ,   supreme primarch .   or should i be calling you the former supreme primarch now ?❜❜

Hands cover his eyes deceptively softly - upon hearing the voice that accompanies them, he wonders how easily those hands would fall. Belial always hung closer to Lucilius - he does not doubt for a moment the archangel of cunning would do his utmost to watch the skies fall. A deed Lucifer will never allow to come to pass whilst he exists in the same world - natural enemies, a compromise isn’t one that’s plausible to reach.

“Belial.” He answers, he begins. “I have forgotten nothing - not Lucilius’ crime nor your complicity. Tell me, do you still enact such atrocities even now?” As the other begins twirling his hair, he doesn’t acknowledge the action. Keeping himself stagnant in flight. “The current Supreme Primarch is Sandalphon.” That feels strange on his tongue, however it’s right. Pride swells within him, he knows the other does his job well.

What the serpent seeks to gain here, Lucifer knows not - but he knows it’s nothing he could abide by.

Lucifer misses the garden clad in serenity.

There may not be much there, aside from the white furniture and pavilion, the cultivating coffee beans and all sorts of wondrous plants. Not just do sky dwellers have evolution - so do the plants they cultivate. Even clad in white and green, he found it soothing. A pleasant trip to go each time he went to the research lab, even though that hadn’t happened in...quite some time. Once Sandalphon was relocated, the garden after always felt...empty, even though nothing had changed. 

Even once he was the one left behind, alone in that garden - it wasn’t the same. His solace was in the skies, alive, with so much time left in front of him. He hoped Sandalphon would grow to love the skies as he had, the longer it took to see him again, the more Sandalphon could see. Could learn. It was a pleasant thought, at the very least. Thinking anything otherwise would be an emotion beyond Lucifer - selfishness. He doesn’t miss what he didn’t want. 

Traveling between the wards presents no trouble at all - granted, the isle itself was small, and it seemed as though Radiale was united despite the differences betwixt all the wards. Through his wanderings, he comes across a quaint coffee shop - it’s never something he’s exactly been within, but he has the chance, now. He opens the door, greeted by a cat as he bends down to pet their soft fur. It’s almost within that same moment the smell of something familiar, home, almost fills him. 

Wind against skin feels the way it always has, though the area below him is just as familiar as the rest of the isle is. That is to say, not at all. Much like how similarly mortals lived despite the differing climates, and cultures they adopted (excluding the more detailed aspects of such), Radiale is no exception. Across the different districts, things were peaceful. Even despite their differences, the similarities held up easily. Then again, that could be from their close proximity. It’s not difficult to any extent to get from one ward, to another. 

One thing he noticed fairly quickly on his own end, was how it took more wing flaps to maintain himself in the air. Without six to balance and hold, the finer details felt *different*. Two wings felt strange upon his back, yet he would have it no other way. He *wanted* to discard being the supreme primarch, allowing evolution to guide and watchover itself. His former core belongs to the person he trusts most, it’s theirs now more than anything else. 

Walking throughout the house, it’s nothing unusual - aside what it’s made from, and even then, it’s recognizable. The strange thing is the concept of *living* in one of these - he’s certainly never needed to before. Though things are not as they once were, and by all means he should not be standing here in the first place. There should not be a means to conjure something he cannot remember, much less the feeling of *warmth* and a *core* that lies within him. Whatever brought him back...he’s determined to find out why. 

It’s nearly impossible to do so without getting a grasp on what he’s able to. Luckily, *watching* is something he happens to be good at. Walking around the house he’s been given after appearing by a hole he couldn’t sense much from. There are places that are seemingly unreachable, but with enough determination - even the weakest of creatures can find their way. He knows not who made it to Canaan, but he has faith. His only wish had been granted. 

Radiale is not a place he’s ever heard of, and thus, finds the entire concept of it fascinating. He knows his own world like the back of his hand, having spent thousands of years protecting everyone within the skies. Buildings tall enough to question whether or not they were built by mortal hands, and technology embedded within them - evolution here must have progressed further than his own world. The lives that built such a thing within the canyon with their own hands are precious, the legacy left behind. This place is certainly not of his memories - and thus, he cannot place where it is. He does know that he feels...different - alive, almost. Yet such a thing isn’t possible. 

Not in the skies. 

As interested as he is in learning of the people here, seeing this isle for what it is, he is equally so to the reason he would be alive again. The power he held lies with another, someone he trusts, knowing they will use it to be free. There is no one else he would rather have gifted it to. There is always more to learn, it seems. Blue eyes survey the metallic buildings far, far closer to him though. More familiar, yet also distinctly different - it’s hard not to be in awe of how different mortals can be, those from the skies he cherishes, and those who are not.