"Splendid. And that includes sleeping with every street chimp you see," Lucifer said, pointing at her with absolute seriousness. "No more sleeping with producers with tiny egos or rappers with anger issues and inferiority complexes. Oh, also married actors with presidential fantasies and emotional depth equivalent to wet cardboard."
Delilah stared at him.
Then she burst into laughter.
It hurt her shoulder, and she immediately winced, but the laugh still came out real. Lucifer watched her carefully, satisfied when the fear in her face loosened a little more.
"You're impossible," she said.
"Yes," Lucifer replied. "And yet terribly useful."
Delilah looked down at the contract again, her thumb brushing over the studio name. "LUX Studios."
"It has a nice ring," Lucifer said. "Far better than anything Jimmy would have chosen. I imagine his version would've included his name and three unnecessary exclamation marks."
She smiled, then grew quieter.
"What if I mess it up?"
Lucifer leaned back against the couch and watched her with steady eyes.
"Then you fix it," he said. "Then you mess up again and fix that too. That is apparently how humans grow, which seems inefficient and emotionally messy, but you lot appear committed to the method."
Delilah stared at him for a long moment.
"You really believe I can do this?"
Lucifer did not joke this time.
"Yes," he said. "I do."
The answer hit her harder than all the jokes before it. Her fingers tightened around the papers, and for a few seconds, she looked like the frightened woman from Lux again, the one who had asked if she had sold her soul because success had started feeling like punishment.
Then something steadied behind her eyes.
"Okay," she said. "I'll do it."
Lucifer smiled faintly. "Good. Because if you turn my studio into a sentimental charity project, I'll be deeply offended."
Delilah laughed again, softer this time.
"I'll make it good," she said. "I promise."
"That's the spirit," Lucifer said as he stood from the couch. "Now rest, heal, ignore the vultures, and begin thinking about what sort of kingdom you'd like to build once you're done being dramatic on painkillers."
Delilah stood too, slower than him. She walked him to the door with the contract still held carefully against her chest.
Before he could leave, she touched his arm.
"Lucifer?"
He turned back toward her.
"Can I still come to Lux and sing like before?"
For once, Lucifer's smile softened without the usual performance behind it.
"I already said yes to that, didn't I? Feel free to swing by whenever you want."
Delilah hugged him again, gentler this time. Lucifer let her, keeping one hand lightly against her back until she pulled away.
When he stepped into the hallway, she stayed at the door, watching him with tired eyes and a real smile.
Lucifer walked toward the elevator, hands in his pockets, feeling strangely satisfied. 'Well, the rest is up to you, girl. Don't disappoint me.'
...
[A few days later]
Lucifer walked out of an ice cream shop with a cone in his hand, eating as he moved down the street.
He had seen a long line outside the place and assumed the ice cream would be worth it. The board inside had shown ridiculous names for every flavor, and the cashier had recommended something called fruit overload with far too much confidence.
Lucifer took another bite, then looked at the cone with mild disgust.
"Ten dollars for this shit?" he muttered. "It tastes like regular fruit ice cream."
He kept eating anyway because some part of Karl still remembered a life where even small things like this felt expensive. Back then, spending ten dollars on ice cream would have been stupid. Now, he could buy the entire shop if the mood took him.
Music played from a nearby store while people moved along the sidewalk.
♪ I ain't got no soul, the preacher told me so ♪
♪ I'm out... on my own ♪
♪ I ain't got no soul, the preacher told me so... ♪
Lucifer slowed when he heard shouting from farther down the street.
"Save your soul! It's up to you! I ask you to repent! Repent your sins before it's too late!"
A street preacher stood near the corner with a microphone in one hand and a cheap speaker beside his feet. A small crowd had gathered around him. Some people listened, some recorded him, a few paid him, and some only stayed because they had nothing better to do.
The preacher raised his hand and continued yelling.
"It is the end of times! The Devil walks among us!"
Lucifer stared at him while chewing another bite of ice cream. It was similar to the opening of episode 2. But Chloe was still in the hospital, so some events seem to have just gotten mixed up. At this point, he stopped caring about the butterfly effect.
In his old life, Karl would've ignored the man and kept walking. He had heard plenty of people like this before. Loud men on street corners blaming the Devil for everything wrong with the world had never been worth his time.
That was before he became Lucifer Morningstar.
Now the words irritated him in a way he couldn't easily dismiss. Lucifer's pride and anger stirred under his skin, and Karl felt them too. Humans lied, cheated, hurt each other, ruined lives, and then blamed the Devil because it was easier than taking responsibility.
Lucifer sighed and walked toward the crowd.
"Look at this world!" the preacher shouted. "The sin, the lust, the corruption! It is the Devil's touch!"
Lucifer stepped closer with the cone still in his hand.
"Padre, you have no idea how right you are," Lucifer said with a small chuckle. "There's no need to be angry about it. Enjoy the ride."
The preacher turned toward him.
A few people in the crowd looked at Lucifer too. His suit, smile, and calm confidence drew attention immediately, especially since he looked like he had walked out of a luxury club instead of a random LA sidewalk.
The preacher studied him for a moment, then lifted the microphone again.
"Bless you. Have you seen the Devil's face?"
Lucifer smiled.
"Oh, I see it every morning in the mirror."
Some people laughed.
The preacher pointed to him as if Lucifer had helped him make his point.
"Exactly! The Devil is inside all of us! He shows up in our moments of weakness."
Lucifer's smile faded a little.
"No, no, no," he said, shaking his head. "Don't give me credit for all that. You humans do plenty on your own."
The microphone gave a sharp squeal of feedback. Several people winced, and the preacher lowered it with a frustrated look.
"What's your problem, pal?"
Lucifer raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah," the preacher said, dropping the holy tone. "Why don't you move your shtick along? I'm not sharing my tips with you, if that's what you're angling for."
Lucifer stared at him for a second. "Oh. Right. Is this a performance?" He asked, glancing toward the costumed characters farther down the sidewalk. "Are you like the Chewbacca and Spider-Man down the street? I have to say, you're very good."
The preacher glared at him.
"Yeah, so why don't you go bother them?"
The crowd laughed again. More phones turned toward Lucifer, and the preacher noticed it immediately.
"You're bad for my business," the preacher snapped.
Lucifer's expression changed.
That one sentence told him everything he needed to know. The man didn't believe in what he was preaching. This was just another act, another way to squeeze money out of frightened people and curious tourists.
The preacher lifted the microphone again, trying to regain control.
"Repent! The Devil..."
"Isn't finished with you yet," Lucifer said.
The crowd quieted slightly.
Lucifer stepped closer, his voice becoming colder.
"You see, what I hate more than anything is a liar, a charlatan, someone who doesn't believe in what they say."
The preacher forced a laugh, though his confidence had started to slip.
"So what are you gonna do about it?"
Lucifer leaned closer and looked directly into his eyes.
"Why, make you a believer, of course."
For one second, Lucifer let his real red devil face appear.
The preacher saw it clearly.
The handsome man was gone, and something burned and inhuman looked back at him instead. Red eyes, ruined skin, and a face that belonged to every nightmare he had pretended to understand from behind a microphone.
The preacher screamed.
He stumbled backward and dropped the microphone. It hit the pavement with a loud crack, sending another burst of feedback through the speaker.
"Stay away!" the preacher shouted, crawling back from him. "He's the Devil! You don't understand! This isn't a performance! He's the Devil!"
The crowd laughed as they raised their phones higher, recording every second while the preacher kept pointing at Lucifer with a trembling hand.
Lucifer turned toward the crowd, his normal face already back in place.
"It's true," he said, spreading his arms slightly. "It's hard to believe, right?"
"He's the devil!!!" The preacher screamed as he flung his tip bag, sending the bills flying on the street. "The devil is on Earth!"
People began to catch the bills while cheering for Lucifer. Some even clapped for the money and stopped the prick from yelling before their store.
Lucifer gave them a small bow.
"Yes, thanks, everyone. I'm here till, well, the end of time, actually."
Across the street, a girl with striking, bright blue eyes watched Lucifer through her sunglasses. She slightly lowered her glasses just to get a good look at him. Though many other girls were watching the scene, or mostly Lucifer, she stood out among them. Why? Because she was beautiful with unique irises, plus big boobs. And from her expensive clothes, shoes, and handbag, she looked like a celebrity. She had a big hat and sunglasses that made it look as if she was hiding from public attention.
Then the crowd got a bit wild as everyone was trying to snatch the bills. Two cops on patrol got involved and she just blinked once and... 'Where did he go?' She wondered.
...
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