--Prelude to the Dawn--

"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places."

- Ephesians 6:12

Cold was there, cold was everywhere, licking at his tender insides. Black was there, black was everywhere, but it did not help the loneliness. It was a beast; a living, breathing monstrosity constantly on the prowl. Its prey trembled, not knowing, never knowing when it might strike again. Pain trickled through every minutiae of his being, gnawing at his guts, his soul.

The black struck, laughed, and devoured him.

Everything, everything was what he had once. He remembered it still, every agonizing detail, though the black tried so hard to steal it. It would be easier to forget it all, let the breathing monster take it, but no, never.

He was born in the light of God. Born the first, the most beautiful, and the most terrified. To know nothing but God at one's conception is horrifying, excruciating, humbling, exalting, bliss and wonder itself.

Swimming the heavens and walking the earth, he had everything once. Love, why that had been simple. All any of them knew. He whispered to God Himself; he heard whispers back.

But then it was complicated.

God grew bored with them, he feared. So man was born, from the dust and the dirt. Born to replace them, he feared. And his God, his perfect God, commanded they bow to this dirt and dust.

Logically, he refused.

He had been the most perfect of them all. He was the flame eternal, experiencing every kind of love, and mankind was filth. Determined, he rallied his fellow flames to right the injustice. To prove to his God that they, no, he would not be replaced, could not be replaced. A third of paradise followed him, fought for him.

It had been a righteous cause. A cause, at least. But the angels were naïve, too shortsighted to see the truth. His third of the heavenly host was broken, thrown down, their cause defeated. They were betrayed by their brothers and sisters. The trauma was unimaginable.

The scars healed eventually. Or scabbed over, at least. Banishment to the earth was heartbreaking. But it had hardened him, strengthened and matured him. He survived. His cause survived, and he fought on still.

That earned him Hell. Refusing to relent, to accept the superiority of mankind, of maggots, earned him eternal torment.

God, how ridiculous.

But he refused to let the torment change him. He wept, sure, and screamed in agony. Hell is, it is simply… hell. Not fire and brimstone, only pain. Only the knowledge that you are forever banned from the presence of the Almighty. That your secret prayers go unheard. That your hopes are lost, that your dreams are smothered and that your soul is barren.

But he refused to succumb, no, never. He cowered, true; he gnashed his teeth and shivered in pain. But a light remained in his mind, a spark the black sought to crush but never could. It blazed in his blue eyes in that moment, killing the breath of that living beast.

The black struck, he laughed, and devoured it.

Hands stiff, legs quaking, he rose. He stood, the cold fleeing from his confidence. And Hell, well, Hell dissolved away around him. Beaten by determination and poise.

The angel named Lucifer stood, hunched a bit, but stood. The sun was insanely bright; like it might overload at any moment. He raised a shaky hand to shield his eyes.

A car blew by, honked twice, the noise made him jump. He shrunk down, watching it disappear in wide-eyed curiosity. He realized he was naked then, and that his wings were hidden. But he didn't mind. Instead he watched, cautious, as another car sped by.

He followed after it, walking a strange black road with clumsy feet. It was incredibly warm here, he thought. A plane roared somewhere above, startling him again. Made him choke, seeing that metal beast up there in his sky. But he kept on, slowly chasing it too now.

He came across a sign, green and white, in a language he didn't know. But it was similar to one he did, it only took a second to understand.

San Antonio, it read. Population 1,194,222.

Satan walked on, not sure where he was going, just enjoying the ability to walk again.

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour."

-Peter 6:12