Morning draped the city in thin gold. Lucien walked with his hands jammed into his coat pockets, the long tail of his trench whipping behind him like a dark flag. He moved slow, thinking slow — which meant his internal monologue had extra time to be dramatic.
This human world is so interesting, he mused aloud, as if narrating to someone who hadn't fallen asleep at the prologue. You're probably wondering why I'm still here. Well — I don't see any reason to go back just yet.
A soft wince interrupted him. He clutched at his shirt where some invisible bruise ached. Saving that girl really banged me up. His stomach chimed in at the same moment, an audible, embarrassing protest.
Maybe I went a little far when I replicated the human body, Lucien admitted, appalled. Now I'm… hungry?
He cast a lazy glance down the street. On his left, a cheery sign announced: BREAKFAST JOINT — letters big and honest, steam curling from the windows. Lucien brightened like a creature seeing sunlight for the first time.
Humans are too simple and obvious, he said, and pushed through the door.
"Good morning, my fellow humans!" he bellowed—not loud, not polite—just loud enough to make everyone look up.
A chorus of muffled reactions followed. "What the heck is wrong with this guy?" an old man muttered. A woman near the window folded her arms and tutted at his lack of decorum. Lucien blushed, a tiny, ridiculous human flush that made him want to laugh at himself.
Oh—so that's not how humans do it, he muttered, embarrassed. Hunger took priority. "Waiter! Bring me delicious food!" he shouted, finding a seat and flopping into it like a man who'd never been taught table manners.
A blue-haired waitress approached, apron tied neat, eyes curious but kind. She gave a small smile that was more amused than judgmental. "You're certainly not from around here," she said gently.
"Nope," Lucien said.
"You—where are you from? And what are you doing here?" she asked, friendly but professional.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, searching for the right ridiculous answer. "I'm from… Hell," he said with the bluntness of a man who'd never been asked about his origin on a first date. "I was bored, so I'm taking a break."
The waitress snorted a small laugh and giggled at him instead of recoiling. "You're funny."
Lucien made a sputtering noise—part pride, part relief. "Y-yeah. You got me. Ha. Ha. Ha."
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Lucien. Lucien Vale."
"Valerie," she introduced herself, offering her hand with an easy smile. "Nice to meet you."
He nodded like someone trying to memorize a delightful new fact. Plates began to arrive: steaming pancakes, eggs glossy with butter, bacon singing in the skillet, toast like golden shields. Lucien's eyes grew wide, and for the first time since he'd left Hell, his full attention belonged to food.
He ate like a man rediscovering life — five plates vanished as if swallowed by a small, polite black hole. When he finally pushed back from the table, hugely satisfied and slightly dazed, he stood and started to exit.
"Where do you think you're going?" the counterman barked, stepping out from behind the register.
"Oh — I'm going to find something to do, my fine gentleman," Lucien said breezily, loosening his tie with a casual flourish.
"You haven't paid for your meals!" the man growled, face darkening. He surged forward, beefy and offended, and grabbed Lucien's coat collar, yanking him up hard.
"You better pay up, mister! If you know what's best for you!" he threatened.
Valerie's eyes went wide. Without hesitation she stepped between them. "Stop it, Reil! You mustn't hurt him. Take it from my salary," she offered, voice small but steady.
The man's jaw dropped. "What?! That'd cost your entire week's pay!"
"It's fine," Valerie insisted, cheeks pink but determined.
Reil barked a warning, but he released Lucien and stomped back behind the counter, grumbling. "You're lucky. But next time—" he warned.
Lucien dusted himself off, chin up, and watched Valerie's face as she smoothed a stray hair from her apron. She's ridiculously kind, he thought, oddly struck by the gesture. It tugged somewhere in him he didn't care to examine.
"Thank you, Miss Valerie," he said with a theatrical bow. "I'll repay you with something eventually Byeeee!"
And with that, he walked out into the bright morning, tie loosened more, coat fluttering, and a new, slightly ridiculous idea taking root: I will repay her. I will figure out this 'paying' thing later.
Behind him, the tiny diner hummed back into its usual rhythm. Valerie watched his retreating figure, puzzled and oddly warmed, and Reil muttered into his rag as he counted the day's take.
Lucien strolled down the street, stomach full, mind wandering. The city unfolded around him like a chessboard of possibilities. For the first time in a long while, he felt something that wasn't boredom.
Curiosity. And maybe a trace of… amusement? he admitted to himself, and smiled.
The morning sun sat high now, warming the sidewalks and blinding the unprepared. Lucien walked aimlessly, hands still in his pockets, a grin tugging at his lips. Every step he took came with a new discovery — and a new misunderstanding.
Lucien (thinking):
So this is the "human world." No rivers of fire, no screaming souls, no raining brimstone. Just…
He squinted at a traffic jam ahead.
…a lot of people yelling in metal boxes. Charming.
A car horn blared as someone leaned halfway out their window.
"Hey! Watch where you're walking, idiot!"
Lucien froze mid-step, then slowly turned, his expression polite and slightly amazed.
"Oh! So that's how humans greet each other!"
He waved enthusiastically. "HELLO, FELLOW HUMAN! NICE TO MEET YOU TOO!"
The driver blinked, flipped him off, and sped away.
Lucien blinked at the gesture.
He copied it awkwardly. "Oh! Some kind of royal wave?"
He smiled to himself. "Such passionate people."
Further down the road, a group of teenagers zipped past on bicycles. The wheels gleamed in the sunlight, and the wind carried their laughter.
Lucien stopped dead, eyes wide.
"Wait… humans tamed metal beasts to carry them?"
He stepped into the bike lane for a closer look — just in time for another rider to swerve past him.
"MOVE IT, MORON!" the biker yelled, nearly clipping his shoulder.
Lucien jumped back, startled. "Incredible reflexes! They can shout and steer!"
He clapped softly. "Truly a superior species."
He turned his head, and his gaze caught a television through a shop window. On the screen, a woman with a bright smile was selling detergent.
Lucien pressed his face against the glass, completely absorbed.
"She's trapped… inside the box."
He crouched, poking the screen through the glass, whispering in horror.
"Don't worry, miss! I'll free you from this glowing prison!"
A man walking by muttered, "Weirdo."
Lucien straightened up immediately, brushing his coat.
"Yes, yes, I'm a weirdo. That must be the polite term for heroes here."
---
The sidewalk crowded around him. People brushed past, muttering complaints. A businessman bumped into his shoulder hard enough to spin him slightly.
"Watch where you're going!" the man barked.
Lucien blinked.
"Ah, I see. That must be a human expression of dominance."
He smiled brightly and responded, "And watch where you're going to you too, noble warrior!"
The man frowned, shook his head, and stormed off.
Lucien looked pleased. "Success. A cultural exchange."
---
He passed a bakery, and the scent of fresh bread wrapped around him like a spell. Lucien stopped, inhaling deeply.
"Oh… that smell. It's like Heaven but with gluten."
He peeked inside and saw a mother handing her child a croissant. They both laughed. The sight made him pause. His grin faded a bit, replaced with something quieter.
Humans… they have so many little joys.
Then a man behind him pushed past, muttering, "Get out of the way, pretty boy."
Lucien snapped back, smiling again. "Ah yes, more compliments! They truly adore me here."
---
After a while, he came across a park. Kids ran, dogs barked, and birds circled lazily above. He stopped by a fountain and looked into the water. His reflection stared back — dark hair ruffled by wind, red eyes glowing faintly beneath the sunlight.
Lucien smirked.
"Still handsome as ever. Humanity's greatest mystery — how do they manage without me?"
He tossed a coin-shaped rock into the fountain and nodded seriously.
"There. I made a wish."
"What did you wish for mister?" A child who stood next to him asked
"I wish this world stays this stupid forever." he answered with a smile which left the boy shocked.
He turned and started walking again, humming to himself, his tie flapping in rhythm with his steps. Behind him, a few passersby glanced back, confused by the strange man talking to fountains and traffic.
But Lucien didn't care. He was too fascinated — and for the first time in centuries, genuinely entertained.
Maybe, he thought with a small grin, this human world isn't so bad after all.
Meanwhile, Back in Hell…
The fiery caverns of the Underworld were unusually quiet. No screaming, no torment, no Lucien complaining about boredom — just… silence.
In the middle of the great infernal hall, McGruffin, once a con artist in life and now the devil's favorite sinner, sat lazily in Lucien's empty throne. A piece of brimstone candy dangled from his lips as he looked around the still chamber.
"Damn… it's been three days," he muttered, checking an invisible watch. "Three. Freakin'. Days. Since our red-eyed slacker of a boss vanished."
A few lesser demons hovered nearby, whispering nervously.
"Do you think he died?" one hissed.
McGruffin rolled his eyes. "He's half human, half infernal royalty — he probably just tripped into another dimension chasing something shiny."
He stood, brushing ashes off his coat. "Alright, people, listen up! We've got a problem. Lucien's gone topside — that's the human world — which means this place is one flickering torch away from a full-blown apocalypse."
One demon raised a claw timidly. "Uh, McGriffin, sir… do we really care? I mean, no boss means no orders, no orders means—"
"Freedom?" McGruffin finished with a smirk. "Yeah, until Big Daddy Satan finds out and turns all of us into crispy bacon."
The room went silent.
He sighed. "I told that idiot not to leave. But nooo, 'I just wanna see the human world,' he said. 'I'll only be gone for a minute,' he said."
A red imp floated by holding a newspaper — The Underworld Weekly.
The headline read:
"Lucien Vale — The Devil's Heir — Seen on Earth Buying Pancakes!?"
McGruffin stared. "...He WHAT?"
The imp nodded nervously. "Apparently, he's… adapting well."
McGruffin rubbed his temples. "Perfect. He's out there stuffing his face while I'm stuck babysitting these fire-spitting toddlers."
He turned to the crowd. "Alright, listen up! Nobody — and I mean nobody — tells Lucifer about this, got it? If anyone snitches, I'll personally feed you to the Bone Vultures."
They all nodded in terror.