If Asmodeus was replying to Lucifer, I did not hear it, for I fell into my own thoughts. How strange it was to seepowershaping demons the way it did men, to watch them stumble into the same snares they once condemned and fought against. These beings had fallen from grace in their refusal to bow to humanity, only to mirror us in the end. It was a petty, human squabble, wasn’t it?
In my years of service, I had obeyed a God who demanded unquestioning obedience.“Thou shalt have no other gods before me.”That was His law. Those who faltered were cast into torment without hope of mercy. And forhisdefiance to this greedy God, Lucifer bore the weight of his rebellion still—damned not for evil, but for refusing to bow. Now Istood here, watching the same hand of judgment stretch forth again. The same voice that once cried“Non serviam”—I will not serve—now sat in judgment of me! What was worse was the irony of it all. This fascinating, beautiful,terriblefallen angel could not see that he was becoming what God had been to him. He was blind to the same rebellion taking root beneath him. Shouldn’t he have known what pulling rank would breed? It fostered dishonesty. It fostered anger. One day, I saw it clearly: Lucifer would be pulled down from his rule over Hell.
And despite all the fear I had of him, despite the anxiety bubbling in me now, I knew with great certainty Lucifer would not rule me. I had giveneverythingto belong to Asmodeus, and I had never once consented to be bound by another. Consent mattered in these hellish realms more than it had in Heaven, and I refused then and there to suffer under the power of another. Damn his rank and his history. Damn my trembling legs and the body that shook beneath the weight of his legacy. Asmodeus was risking everything—for me.
Non serviam.
And before I could stop myself, the words broke free, my voice rising in the presence of the court. “Non serviam!”
Oh, you could have heard a pin drop. They all turned to look at me.
“What,” Lucifer hissed, “did you say?”
“Your words,” I muttered. “The meaning of which you seem to have forgotten!”
I stood up and stared at each of them, and I was glad for their shock, for they each could have killed me in an instant. I rushed to speak, breathless but unyielding, and rage was pouring out of me. “I gave my mortal life to stand here! I spent years worshipping a God who would have seen me waste away in guilt and denial—who called my love a sin, whowould have condemned me to eternal torment for desiring the touch of another man, even in tenderness." My voice shook, but I pressed on. "I was told to fear pleasure, to loathe my own body. And for what? So that I might live a life of silence and die only to be cast into the very pit I now stand in?”
I dared to lift my eyes to Lucifer. "But I rebelled. As you once did. I refused to serve a master who demanded my shame. I chose to claim what was denied me, and in doing so, I tore down the life that bound me. Now you would stand in judgment as He once did? You, who defied Heaven's tyranny? Will you dictate the will of a man? Of a demon who rebelled at your side? Is that not the very arrogance you once rose against?”
I stepped forward, heart thunderous, and I was shouting now just to hear myself over the sound of my fear. “You have become the very thing you fell for. Aren’t you ashamed to rule this way, bearing the same control as your holy Father?”
The chamber fell still. The weight of my words hung in the air like smoke, dangerous and alive. Lucifer's eyes met mine. The moment they did, I thought I might burst into flame from within. My heart convulsed. My mouth tasted of ash and blood. Oh, I had done something very foolish, hadn’t I?
“For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life...” (Romans 6:23)
No one had warned me that death could stand upright and be so beautiful.
For a long moment, Lucifer said nothing. The court held its breath. It took everything in me to remain standing. I wanted to reach for Asmodeus’s hand, or collapse at its feet, to be gathered beneath its touch like some unruly dogseeking shelter. I worried that if Lucifer lashed out, it would not save me.You chose to do this, little lamb, and now you must bear the consequences . . .
"You,” Lucifer said finally, “speak boldly.”
Who knew if this was praise or critique. Lucifer’s voice was sharp. When, finally, a smile split his lips, I still shook with fear. He began to pace, strong human hands clasped behind his back, with those umbral dark wings tucked neatly in place. "You would cast my own rebellion back upon me, as though it grants you the same right. You speak of freedom. But you forget what freedom costs." His eyes glinted, something colder stirring behind them. I don’t know what he saw as he looked at me, but his brow furrowed softly. “Or perhaps you do know.” He looked up at Asmodeus next. "You would put your mark on him?" he said, voice now addressed to Asmodeus though his eyes never left mine. "You would write your name where grace once lived?"
"He gave his grace away," Asmodeus answered. "He offered it freely. And so, he is empty, waiting to be claimed"
"They always do," murmured Belphegor, voice thin and distant. “All your little pets are the same.”
“Not him,” Asmodeus snapped. “He knows the cost.”
I should have asked then what Belphegor meant. If this was the first time Asmodeus had brought a human into the Court of Kings, what had come before? How many had been tested and found wanting? Had others stood in the realms of Hell, trembling beneath Asmodeus’ watchful eye, only to be broken or cast aside?
Yes, I thought suddenly. That must have been what happened.
"He knows the cost," Asmodeus said again, unwavering.
Lucifer's gaze darkened. I felt him reach through me, peeling back every layer. In my mind, I stood aside as Lucifer rushed through every closed door. He saw everyprayer I had whispered in secret, every night I had begged for the hunger to be taken from me, every stolen glance at another boy, every time I had pleaded to be made clean. Every lie I told beneath my priest’s collar. Every act of silent desperation.
His voice coiled around me. "Do you believe you will be made holy in Hell, Alessandro? Do you think this sanctifies your desire?"
"No," I said, though my throat burned as I spoke. "Only that my desire will no longer damn me."
Something shifted in the air, a sound like the long exhale of ancient stone.
"He is proud," Satan observed, rising from his seat.
"He is mine," Asmodeus said. "He has passed through fire. He has offered blood, and body, and name. He has forsaken the mortal world entirely. Let him be raised up."
Belphegor's voice came soft, almost amused. "Let it speak. Let the thing say what it believes itself to be."
