Lucifer Morningstar. The Devil. Satan. The Lightbringer. The Ruler of the Underworld. But, one of his less known names, was that of an angel. Samael, the Poison of God. It was a name that Lucifer would much rather have forgotten. In all honesty, for a while, he did. It was going great for him, too, until one day when Lucifer's past caught up with him, in the worst of ways.
"Samael!" the booming cry cut through the relative quiet of the police station. Across the room from the entrance, Lucifer's head whipped up towards the source of the shout. His eyes widened at the figure before him, and he took a large step back. Clad in Roman-looking armor, a warrior stood, rosy cheeks white with fury. Shoulder-length blond locks were pulled back into a simple low ponytail at the nape a pale neck. Pure white wings stretched out behind the stranger, lighting up the room with a soft, ethereal glow. He was wearing a baby-blue tunic, tied with a simple leather belt at the waist and hanging loose, exposing bronze armor protecting his chest. In one hand was a broadsword, the other a medieval shield. Toned legs led down to pale feet, clad in leather sandals. In short, he looked like he belonged in a Biblical painting. Bright blue eyes scanned the room calculatingly, until his cerulean gaze fell upon the resident devil. With nary a swish of majestic wings, the archangel swept across the room and lifted up his brother by the lapels of his Armani suit. In an instant, there was a room's worth of guns pointed at the newcomer, cocked and ready to fire.
"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to put Lucifer down! Whatever your problem with him is, I'm sure we can get it sorted without the need for violence." Chloe Decker's gun was pointed at the newcomer, seven feet away from where he stood, pinning the Devil to the wall. The newcomer's head slowly turned to the detective, and with a moment's consideration, he slowly lowered his arms, and consequently his brother, back to solid earth.
In a flash quicker than lightning, the angel's hand flew to his side where his sword rested in its scabbard. Even as he drew the blade, Lucifer's arm shot out to counter the blow to his detective. With that, the battle began. The angel returned Lucifer's shot to his arm with a wing, knocking the devil flying. Guns across the station went off and a cacophony of sound filled the room. Instead of the expected holes in flesh and spurting blood, the newcomer simply advanced on the person closest to him, which happened to be Detective Decker.
Lucifer sat up, dazed, and looked around to see his brother advancing on the Detective. In an instant, his wings were out and he was flying across the room to stand in front of the detective, just in time to receive the blow intended for her. The angelic sword cut through the muscle that made up the meat of his wings, and he turned to his brother with a glare.
"Michael, dear brother, you're going to sincerely regret that." Lucifer ran a finger across his wing, through a rivulet of blood staining the pure white feathers. "I really don't appreciate you stabbing my wing. It's considered rather rude to stab your brother, after all."
And with that, the fight began.