Chapter Text
Lucifer Morningstar lifted his head, a faint crease forming between his brows as a thin resonance curled through the air. Sounded soft, distant, and unfamiliar.
“Hmm. Pretty sure I just heard something,” he muttered under his breath.
He stuck his pinky into his ear, wiggled it with casual indifference, then gave a dismissive shrug. Whatever it was, it clearly wasn’t important enough to derail his masterpiece-in-progress.
A grin stretched across his face—slow, wicked, and brimming with childish delight.
“Heh… Heh… HA… HAHAHAHA!”
His laughter swelled, echoing through the gilded chamber. The energy around him practically vibrated with his amusement.
Before him stood a glass display case, lit from below like a holy relic… or the unholy kind. Inside, perched on a tiny velvet pedestal, sat the object of his fascination:
A rubber duck.
But not just any duck.
Its glossy surface was molded into his own likeness—same sweeping pompadour, same jagged grin, same little crown tilting at a smug angle. Its tiny beady eyes stared blankly outward, forever frozen in mock arrogance. The resemblance was uncanny enough to be both impressive and mildly unsettling.
Lucifer pressed his hands to the glass, nose practically squished against it.
“Look at you,” he crooned, voice lilting like a taunt. “Trapped like a little birdie… waeddle birdie…”
He tapped on the glass, the rhythmic *tink-tink-tink* echoing like a taunt. The duck wobbled in place, nodding as if powerless beneath his gaze.
He delighted in it.
Because Lucifer Morningstar—King of Hell, former Archangel, and eternal agent of chaos had created again something absurd, pointless, and spectacular.
And nothing in all of creation pleased him more than that.