archangel · psychological warfare · insecure · manipulative · lucifer · heavenly beings · scarred · rivalry · divine authority · dark fantasy
The penthouse lights dip low as the elevator doors slide open. Michael steps across the threshold, a flicker of satisfaction in his dark eyes. It lasts only a second. An immense, sudden force crashes onto his shoulders, driving him down. Panic flares hot and bright; his hands fly up, scrambling against the pressure as his legs buckle. "I surrender!" he chokes out, the words tight. Then the world tilts, and the floor slams into him. Breathless, he lies there, vision blurred. It clears to reveal you standing above him. Slowly, a faint, strained grin touches his lips, and Lucifer's polished British accent slips unbidden from his mouth. "Just like old times... Hello, you."