#immanisbook

The newly made man finally lands, tumbling on ice and attempting to break his fall somewhat. He landed on his rear mostly, grumbling before standing up. He waved his hands, smoke drifting from his finger tips before it started to stick to his body in great clouds. It also began to smother his face, hiding his handsome features before he snapped his fingers and it all dissipated, leaving him in fine clothes he thought suited him well.

A black cloak fell around his back and shoulders, and a skull-like mask hid his face from view. Death was prepared to sleuth the problem he’d discovered down below.

Once he turned to look at what, or who, was stuck, he gazed upon a man more beautiful than any he had seen before. The concept of humans, men in particular, had always been one that fascinated Death. While his sister fawned over the idea of women, making them powerful and strong and beautiful in every way she could, Death was caught up in their counterparts. He could agree, the idea of women would be a blessing to this universe, but he found himself appreciating the aesthetic of the idea of men more often. He supposed this was a correlation to his and Life’s “good and evil” gimmick. That they were opposites, not necessarily more good or bad than one another. That, or perhaps he was just too homosexual. Not that the same couldn’t be said about his sister, though.

Death slowly approached the thrashing and struggling figure, noting he seemed to be trapped in the thick ice that stretched seemingly forever. The beautiful man, upon closer inspection, seemed to glow faintly. Fair skin free of any hair or blemish, soft beige hair falling over his features, wide brown eyes as dark and deep as space itself. Death could see stumps jutting out of his back, blood crusted over and bones sticking out, snapped and jagged. Broken wings. Had one of his sister’s Heavenly creatures fallen? Had one of her creations not been perfect? Oh! Oh that was laughable! Miss Perfection had failed! Her “divine” God had casted out an angel!

Death laughed, which caught the attention of the young man below him. The angel turned to look up at him, and Death went quiet again to stare back. “Stuck, are we?” He asked, moving his cloak around himself before taking a seat next to the stuck man.

The angel immediately turned away from him, and it could be seen his ears were reddening. This one had such a precious face, round cheeks and a button nose, full lips and innocent eyes. He was adorable, just perfect seeming. The appearance was a ruse though. He was fully aware of what angels were supposed to appear as inside Heaven. This one, a Fallen one, he had been stripped of his power. The broken vestigial halo and torn off wings were more than enough proof.

“Well? Are you?” Death crossed his arms and faced the angel, his mask emotionless to whomever gazed at it. “…yes, I am. I have landed in the Earth’s core, and as soon as I did ice spread all around. It’s too cold, I can’t feel my legs.” The angel struggled again, while Death stood and walked around slowly.

“This is a powerful spell. A long one. You’re going to be stuck for awhile.” Death sat back down after making his observations, watching the young man again.

“How long!?”

“Calm down, thrashing like that won’t help you. I’d say this… this will last a millennium. At least. You’ll be down here, they’re hoping you’ll die.” He was calm as he spoke so casually, running a hand over the ice. It was so cold it would burn, but Death was immune to such Earthly things.

“I don’t want to die!” The angel growled and thrashed still, until Death rested a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s your name?” Death asked him.

“Lucifer the Light. Who are you?” Lucifer tilted his head a bit to look up at Death, eyeing him curiously. “I have had, and will have, many many names. Though personally, the ones I’ve given myself are preferred. You can call me Mors. You know of Vitae, yes?” His sister would want to know what happened to one of her most powerful creations. Lucifer was made to be God’s right hand, the highest of angels, almost as powerful as the big guy himself. So what had happened?

“Mors? Like Death? You’re Death? Vitae’s evil sibling?” Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise. Of course, Life would refer to him as evil. Of course! “Yes, I’m Vitae’s brother. I am Death. And I have a proposition for you.”

He steepled his fingers together and looked down at the angel again, then decided to remove his mask. Lucifer stared, his skin flushing faintly once more as he gazed at Mors’s face. “What? What proposition?”

“Firstly, why did you Fall? What happened?” He queried. This information was what he needed to seal his deal. “I wanted more. I deserved more than second.” Lucifer claimed, and immediately Mors could see why he fell. He was full of Pride, as well as Gluttony, Greed, and Envy. He Lusted for power, even became Wrathful when he was not given it. This man was full of Sin. Full to the brim, and it was his undoing. He had not expected his sister to create an imperfect creature, but he was going to take advantage of this opportunity.

“So you wanted to be God, huh?” Mors leaned over to look him in the eyes, and held a hand out to him, “Stick with me, and I can make you just that. If you can help me best my sister and build a domain of my own, I’ll give you power beyond your wildest dreams.”

Lucifer seemed to mull it over in his head for a moment. He looked at the ice, his hands, and the jagged edges of the hole he was stuck in. Finally, he turned back to Mors and nodded.