Pandemonium.

It was a masterwork of a citadel. Built by the grandest of architects and cleverest of engineers, the city was a metropolis of advanced technology, where art, science and magic could truly transcend their limits. The people were happy there, safe from the savage hordes of their lessers that roamed beyond the walls. Nobody grew old. Nobody got sick. Nobody ever died.

It was a true paradise for all Devilkind; a worthy crucible of absolute power, where they could create to their hearts' content while maintaining their hold over all of Hell.

Until the Rapture. When the cruel legions of their winged foe split the skies and sounded the Blares, destroying everything to the west of the great citadel as they marched ever onward, demanding that the Devils cull their numbers and fetter their creative ambitions.

They put up a good fight; held them at the walls with blade and cannon alike.

But nobody was expecting the lesser demons to rear their heads.

They called her Lady Fesser; a supposed paragon of her people, sent to liberate the seven lesser races from the supposed "tyranny" of their Devil masters. She was supposed to be as compassionate as she was fair.

But if that was so, then why did she invoke a massacre that razed Pandemonium to the ground? Why did she unleash a horde of blue-skinned fiends that killed every man, woman and child they came across before they devoured their shredded carcasses? Why did she watch from afar as the city burned and the angels sounded their horns, sealing the Devils' fate?

Lucifer did not know.

What he did know was that he couldn't take it anymore.

Taking a deep breath, the King of Demons clasped his hands behind his back and gazed out of the window of his dining room. Beyond it, the cramped streets of Dis were bathed in the eternal half-light of Damnation as Devils went about their daily business; carting cages of deceased mortal souls from the Barbed Plains beyond the walls to be cleansed in the penitence chambers deep beneath the city's main keep. He saw misery on the faces of all of his subjects.

This place was not built to support such a large populace, at least not for long. Dis was an industrial processing station, not a city. Children couldn't play in its streets, nor could people relax in the oppressive atmosphere of Damnation. But they couldn't return to Hell; it wasn't theirs anymore. The angels first drove them out in the Rapture, and now the emboldened lesser demons had grown bold enough to oppose them should they think to return.

"We cannot keep living like this, Fero," Lucifer grumbled, sighing as he watched a procession of empty cages being dragged back outside the city walls.

"So you have been saying, my lord," responded the voice of his butler from somewhere behind him.

Lucifer turned his gaze from his miserable city to his own, equally-miserable reflection. He was a weathered old Devil, a far cry from the great king he once was. His once-smartly maintained goatee had become rough and scraggly, and his grey hair had grown down to his shoulders. Upon his head, a pair of tarnished iron horns grew like a jagged crown.

"They're suffering," he murmured, looking back out at his citizens.

"Such is our way, my lord."

"I can't keep overworking them like this."

"You have no choice, my lord. You must do your part as an Overseer; cleansing the departed before they-"

"I know what my fucking duty is, Fero!" Lucifer suddenly roared, turning around.

Standing next to a lengthy stone table was another, younger Devil, dressed in a smart black suit. He meekly bowed towards his lord, having spent many years putting up with his temper.

"My apologies. I meant no offense, my lord."

He bared his teeth.

"Some fucking king I am... exiled from my own home, working my own people like dogs even with our population as low as it is...!" the King of Demons hissed, sitting down at the head of the table.

There was a fine meal of roasted meat and rich sauce before him, but it had long since cooled.

"Your people still respect you, my lord," Fero responded calmly.

"... they deserve better from me. We should be up there! Back beneath red skies, where we belong!" Lucifer cried, slamming his fist down upon the table.

"Alas, my lord, that may not be entirely possible. The lesser races have grown since we last had contact with them. They've expanded, intermingled, adapted... They've even adopted human technologies, from what I understand."

Lucifer's ears pricked up.

"Humans...?"

"Yes, my lord. They're a masterless people, numbering around seven bill-"

"I know what they are, you fucking idiot! Just... let me think!"

Demons were unpredictable. He had made them that way, after all. A race of demon for each sin, empowered with demonic magicks that they could wield to cause catastrophic damage. They were never meant to cooperate. With their combined powers, they could stand up even to the might of the Devils; he saw as much with Fesser's rebellion, centuries ago.

But humans? They were fleshy and weak. Completely powerless. More numerous, yes, but more... malleable. And their home was much larger, much easier to...

"... hm. I'll need to think about this," Lucifer mumbled, cutting into his steak.

A few minutes of relative silence passed as he slowly picked at his cold dinner. As he pared the fat off his meat, he glanced up at the chair at the very end of the table. A second meal had been set there, but it was completely untouched, and the seat lay empty.

He frowned. So she was still sulking.

As he ate his dinner, a servant scuttled into the room, carrying a wooden box. He handed it to Fero and whispered something into the butler's ear before bowing to his king and stepping out.

"My lord?"

"What?"

"Our scouts finally found him," Fero said, holding the box dutifully.

"Who? Spit it out, man!"

"Lieutenant Diate, my lord."

Lucifer's grip on his utensils tightened upon hearing that name. Diate... once a loyal underling that fought valiantly in the Rapture, he had since deserted his lord over two decades ago, claiming that he could no longer stand to fester in the pit of Damnation. A strong man with a weak mind. He had been trying to track him down ever since.

"Finally. Where's he being held?" Lucifer asked, setting his knife and fork aside.

"In my hands, my lord."

Raising an eyebrow, the King of Demons rose from his chair and strode over to his loyal manservant. He lifted the lid of the box and peered inside, red eyes glinting in the gloom.

Within lay a severed head, that of Diate's.

His once-loyal lieutenant's face had been mutilated beyond recognition. His jaw and nose were both badly broken, and it looked as though he had been stabbed through his lower jaw. Teeth were missing, his horns were gone, and one of his eyeballs had been burst. Lucifer could tell he was screaming in his last moments.

"I told them to bring him back alive!" Lucifer growled, clenching his fists.

"My lord. They found him like this. The rest of his body was being held by lesser demon researchers; this was all they could recover."

Fero swallowed hard; an unusually nervous gesture for such a composed man.

"According to circulating rumours in Hell, he was killed by an Incubus."

The King of Demons' blood ran cold.

Incubi. A built-in safeguard against overpopulation that he instilled into the Lust demon genome. Rabid beasts that killed, ate and destroyed without a thought. The very monsters that were used against him. The very beasts that destroyed Dis.

His biggest mistake. He had no idea they were still around.

"Shit..."

"Lieutenant Diate had apparently attacked a town some twenty or so years ago. It was covered up back then, but after his death, news has spread all over Hell. There's no easy way of saying this sir, but..."

Fero took a deep breath.

"... they're beginning to fear us again," he sighed as Lucifer placed the severed head back in the box.

The King of Demons frowned as he placed the lid back on the box.

"They fear us again, after forgetting we existed for so long. Is that such a bad thing?"

"Fear and paranoia can drive men to do terrible things, even lesser demons. If they ever uncovered a way to reach Damnation... We may not survive a combined assault, my lord."

Slowly, Lucifer began to pace around the dining room, lost deep in thought. The ritual performed to form a portal to Damnation was a complex and difficult to perform, but he had underestimated the lesser demons' resourcefulness before and he wasn't about to make that mistake. Not to mention, there were machines still buried deep beneath the earth in old Devilish ruins that could tears holes between worlds. If they found out how to operate even one...

No. Wait. There was an opportunity here, he just didn't see it. The Tempered Bastions were still operable; they had just been disabled when the Devils retreated from Hell. If they managed to gain a foothold in Hell, they could use them as a staging point to flood into...

"... Earth," he murmured aloud, having finally made up his mind.

"My lord?"

Humans. They were nothing like demons; weak, fleshy and easily cowed. Gaia's pitiful, ungrateful firstborns lacking in both faith and unity without an Overseer to guide them. They had technology - electricity, mechanics and firearms - but Lucifer hadn't been sitting on his rear all these centuries. He had people working on a new kind of magic, something that could easily contest with whatever the humans could imagine.

"Earth. It's ripe for the taking. Think about it; it's the centrepoint of every plane of existence, and full to bursting with resources and fresh labour. We can demolish the humans, establish a presence on their world, then finally reclaim Hell once we have sufficient firepower!" the King of Demons cried excitedly.

Fero's eyes opened wide.

"B- But Gaia-!"

"Fuck Gaia! She abandoned Earth; it's anyone's game!"

"What about the other Overseers, sir? Surely they wouldn't allow such a thing?"

He glared at his manservant.

"Sorry, who exactly is the Overseer here, Fero? You or me?" Lucifer growled.

"My utmost apologies, my lord. I meant not to step out of line."

Shaking his head, the King of Demons sat back down. Despite his anger at his butler, the man raised a fair point. What would the others think?

"God cares not for anything but their own domain, and even so they rarely get off their ass for anything. Gaia's preoccupied with the shitshow going down with the fae, and the Emissary is a fucking joke. As for Omnihil..."

He frowned. Lord and Lady of the Cosmos and the Void. Ever the wildcard.

"... they're nothing to be concerned about. No, the others have no stake on Earth. Save for the Emissary, perhaps, but it's an empty title, isn't it?"

"Aren't they human as well?"

"They pick a new one every time the old one dies, apparently. I've been trying to get the title revoked for eons, but apparently- gah, enough distracting me! My decision is final, Fero! We make a move on Earth!" Lucifer roared, slamming his fist down on the table.

Once the cutlery stopped rattling, he turned his gaze over to the empty seat at the end of the table.

"And I know just who to put in charge once our regime is established," he said, steepling his fingers.

Once again, Fero's façade of professionalism gave way to alarm as he looked over at the untouched meal.

"Not to overstep again, my lord, but didn't she say that she wasn't going to-?"

"She'll come around to the idea, Fero. She has to."

His dearest daughter, the very woman who lead an elite unit of Devilish soldiers known as the Alpha Corps, back during the Rapture. They had been cut down in number over the centuries, and in more recent years, she had grown more drawn-into herself. Resentful of her father's ambitions. Lucifer couldn't fathom why.

"Send word to Beta, Delta and Gamma. I'll require their services soon," he told Fero, glancing up at his butler.

He nodded in response and began writing something in a small notebook.

"What about Epsilon, my lord?"

"Ah, yes... Let's just put a pin in that for now. He still needs time to cool off."

"Understood. I'll go put the word out."

Bowing to his master, Fero swiftly stepped out of the dining room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Lucifer steepled his fingers and began to think, his frown deepening as his heartbeat quickened.

He had been preparing for a war for a long time. He didn't even know against who; he was just terrified at the prospect of coming under attack, should the lesser demons ever breach Damnation. Spending all those centuries on the defensive after such a humiliating defeat at the hands of Heaven...

No. He had the magic perfected. The Iron Arsenal was powerful magic, but now he had something greater. Something that could match the humans and completely-!

"My lord Lucifer! Sir!" screamed a voice from the hall, shattering Lucifer's concentration.

Enraged at the interruption, the King of Demons stormed out of the dining room, ready to flay whomever was yelling on the spot, only to find another Devil crumpled on the floor. He was wearing a white labcoat, but it was heavily stained with blood. He limply turned his gaze up to his lord, bleeding from his mouth.

"Th- The prototype...! She s- stole it...!"

"Who? Who stole it?" he asked, grabbing the scientist by the coat lapels.

He coughed weakly, splattering blood onto Lucifer's coat.

"Th- The young lady...!"

"And you just let her?!"

"She's armed...! She's already killed the security staf-!"

His sputtering was cut short as Lucifer kicked the wounded man out of the way, his teeth gritted and his fists clenched.

That little...! After everything he had done for her! It was bad enough that she was playing the petulant child, but to go so far as to undermine her father's efforts to save their people?!

Leaving the bleeding researcher alone on the floor, the King of Demons stormed down the hall, barging past panicking servants and mobilising guards as he did so.

"My lord! What's happened?!" cried Fero, jogging towards his master from a side corridor.

"The fucking prototype! She's stolen it! We can't let her get away!" Lucifer spat, slamming his fist against an elevator panel.

His butler nodded sternly and stepped into the elevator with him.

"The entirety of our security personnel has been scrambled. They'll have Dis under lockdown within the next minute."

"Ngh. Will that be enough...?"

He couldn't be sure. Demons were skilled combatants, able to conjure any weapon they wish and bend metal to their will, but his own flesh and blood... She was different. She was trained to be the best, to be a ruler like her father. It was all he could do to prepare her for the harshness of their existence.

Lucifer's stomach lurched as the lift began to descend. It dropped past the palace floors, past the dungeons, past the penitence chambers... all the way to the research laboratories at the very bottom. Once the elevator stopped moving, the doors slid open to reveal a horrifying sight.

The hallway was a warzone. Dead Devils lay strewn about the floor amidst puddles of blood and spent cartridge casings, some still clutching their iron weapons. The walls were riddled with bullet holes, and many of the overhead lights had been shot out.

"Sweet hellfire..." Fero breathed, eyes bulging at the sight.

Ignoring the corpses of his guards, Lucifer marched forward, frowning as his boots crunched against the brass hulls underfoot.

"She's an adept gunfighter. Too adept," he grumbled, narrowing his eyes.

Firearms. The weapons of humans. He had hoped to bolster his own forces with them, but most Devils had trouble operating weapons that they couldn't simply will into existence. Only the Alpha Corps seems to show any aptitude for them, and his daughter was the most talented of them all...

"My lord, she could still be about," Fero warned, nervously picking his way around a sizable blood pool on the floor.

"No. I think not."

He reached the door at the end of the hall; a large set of steel shutters that had been unceremoniously torn open, revealing the carnage within the main laboratory.

The entire lab had been decimated. Filing cabinets had been emptied onto the floor, their contents burned to ashes. Blueprints and documents had been torn to shreds, alongside the scientists that had been working on them. Blood still dripped from the walls as Lucifer entered, his gaze locked with a shattered storage case in the very centre of the room.

Where his most precious weapon prototype once lay, he instead found himself gazing at a single blood-red eyeball, ripped from its socket only recently. Above it, a crimson portal floated in mid air, radiating heat as it pulsed and flashed like a wound in the very fabric of reality.

"Sh- She's escaped. To Hell," Fero breathed, gazing at the portal with wide eyes.

Lucifer didn't answer. Instead, he just knelt down and picked up the eyeball.

He looked over at the burned research papers, then the dead researchers, before finally returning his gaze to the portal.

"What have you done, Omega..?"