When God shaped the universe, He created angels to stand beside Him — divine beings of light and order.
Among them was Lucifer, the first and greatest of all angels. He was beauty made flesh, light given will — the brightest flame in Heaven's endless sky.
Lucifer took pride in his purpose. To him, obedience was sacred, and loyalty was everything. For ages, he served without question, until the day God turned His gaze toward a new creation — mankind.
They were fragile, imperfect, and yet blessed with something angels were not — the power of choice.
To Lucifer, this was madness. How could weakness be favored over perfection? How could frailty be granted freedom while he, the first of Heaven, was bound by command?
Doubt turned to anger. Anger to rebellion.
Lucifer rose against the throne, and Heaven trembled. Alone, he fought half of the divine host — and for a moment, even victory seemed within his grasp.
Michael, his own brother, stood unwavering. Every strike, every movement carried the weight of Heaven itself. The clash was thunder, the heavens themselves shivering at the impact.
Lucifer fought with fury unmatched — the brilliance of Heaven against his defiance. But Michael's blade was guided by purpose, not pride. With one final, shattering blow, Lucifer fell.
The sky tore open as he plummeted, wings burning, light fading into shadow. The angels watched in stunned silence as their brother — their brightest — was cast from the heights of Heaven into the mortals below.
When Lucifer fell from the heavens, he did not plunge straight into Hell.
He landed upon the earth — wounded, disoriented, and burning with questions. The world of men was raw and imperfect, yet alive in ways Heaven had never been. For the first time, he felt wind against his face, soil beneath his feet, the quiet heartbeat of creation that no hymn could describe.
And on that living world, he saw her — Artemis, goddess of the moon and the hunt. Graceful, fierce, untouchable. Her silver eyes mirrored the sky he had once called home. In her, he saw freedom — the kind that neither Heaven nor Hell could ever understand.
At first, he only watched her. He told himself it was curiosity — the study of another divine being. But as days passed, his fascination deepened into something dangerous. The longer he stayed on Earth, the more human he became — not in body, but in heart. He began to feel the pull of emotion, the warmth of longing, the sting of loneliness.
"Strange," he once whispered to himself
When she finally noticed him, their eyes met under moonlight. She felt the conflict in him — divine, yet breaking apart. He, in turn, saw the calm strength in her, the serenity of someone who chose her own path instead of obeying destiny.
Their meetings grew frequent, unspoken at first. They walked the forests together; she taught him the language of the earth — how leaves whisper before rain, how wolves mourn their fallen, how even the moon waxes and wanes but always returns. In return, he told her of Heaven's endless order, of songs without sorrow and stars that never change.
He began to smile. To laugh. To care.
Each moment with her peeled away a piece of his divine armor until what remained was something fragile — something human.
And with every heartbeat, his wings darkened.
Every emotion, every doubt, every stolen glance painted another feather black.
"You're changing," Artemis told him one night, tracing her fingers along the fading light in his wings.
"No," he said softly, "I'm becoming. For once, I feel alive."
Love blossomed — forbidden, beautiful, tragic. Under the silver moon they shared a kiss, brief and eternal all at once, sealing both their fates.
But Heaven does not forgive easily. When his wings turned completely black, the earth itself trembled. A divine wind tore through the sky, and Lucifer felt the pull of the abyss.
He tried to resist — to cling to her — but Hell would not be denied. The ground split, flames rose, and the light was swallowed whole.
As he fell, he looked up one last time. Artemis stood on the cliff's edge, her tears shimmering like starlight.
"I will find you," she cried.
"Then Hell itself will tremble," he answered, vanishing into the fire