Chapter Text
Most angels would not consider each other family. Many believed that family had not been invented yet when they were created, so while they were all Brothers in the sense of all being creations of the Almighty, most would never refer to another angel as a sibling, just as they would not refer to the Almighty as their mother.
Archangels, Lucifer felt, were unique in this. They had been the first created, and God hadn’t quite invented the idea of being God, as it were, yet. Instead, She had lovingly crafted each of them by hand and breathed life into them, one after another, and nestled them close to Her Glory. Of course, shortly after that, She grew weary of it all and began mass-producing angels and outsourcing creation. Few outside of the Archangels had ever felt her loving hand so directly, felt so close to her to know her as a Mother. In that sense, Lucifer believed it was they who had invented the concept of family, rather than the ridiculous humans She was having them develop now.
Lucifer had been sure that of all angels, his siblings would agree with his fury over the People Project. They had been the Almighty’s children, and now they were to be cast aside to serve these new creations, love them, as if they were more than a shiny new toy for the Almighty to play with and neglect Her first family, Her true family. Unfortunately, Lucifer found his siblings to be weak-willed and complacent. They cared only about pleasing Her and eagerly worked to create their own replacements.
Of course, Lucifer mused, I suppose I can’t blame them for their blind obedience. They weren’t exactly designed for leadership. Not like him. Lucifer hadn’t been created as a warrior, a healer, or a messenger. He wasn’t built for softness or creativity, he was the Supreme Archangel of Heaven. He was built to lead.
And lead he did, to the best of his ability. But it wasn’t easy, trying to recruit angels for a rebellion when unquestioning devotion was the norm. That was, in part, why Lucifer had chosen one of his brothers as his second in command. His most gentle sibling, the one their Mother invented imagination for, the brother with his head, often quite literally, in the stars. This brother had an eager sweetness that endeared him to angels of all ranks, balanced by a sharp intelligence that made him question and the boldness to openly seek the answers.
The best thing about him, if you asked Lucifer, was what others might have considered a weakness. He had absolutely no hunger for power. Lucifer’s brother wielded his strength as the second most powerful angel in heaven with humility, as if it meant nothing. He never sought to intimidate others, nor to lord his status over them. If anything, he seemed to find the rewards of power tedious. He rolled his eyes at the sycophantic Thrones and Dominions that followed Lucifer, hoping to cling to his coattails. He spoke to even the lowest order angel with the same level of respect as he spoke to the Almighty Herself. He would often stop to offer a hand to a scrivener overladen with scrolls, to comfort a frightened cherub when someone went overboard with the scare tactics, to smile at that one little principality he liked so much, to ask others about their work. It was what made him beloved by other angels, and what made him no threat to Lucifer’s power.
It was also what made him the most useful for Lucifer’s plans. His easy rapport with lower order angels meant that they came to him above all other Archangels. They brought him their concerns, their frustrations, their questions, and those who looked up to him were emboldened by his open curiosity. And emboldened, questioning angels were the easiest for Lucifer to recruit. How simple it was to turn curiosity to resentment.
It would be simple enough to get Lucifer’s brother on his side and nudge him towards the idea of rebellion. The other Archangels quickly grow frustrated by his curiosity, his incessant need to know what and why and how. The quickest way to endear oneself to him was to listen to him, to let him speak and ask as long as he wanted, even answer if you could.
From there, Lucifer was sure it would be fairly simple to feed his discontent over Her refusal to speak to them, to offer any explanation for their orders. Especially after his little pet principality let it slip that Her plan was to destroy it all in just a few millennia. He came crying to Lucifer then, the only one who would let him wonder why they were building all of this if She was just going to tear it all down again, to let him work himself up into a rage over the waste of his work, the destruction of his precious creations before they could even begin to reach their potential.
He might throw a bit of a fit once he realizes my end goal, seeing as he’s too Good to want violence Lucifer thought bitterly. But by then, it will be too late.