Chapter 11.

Maze burst out of the shaking elevator into the room. Dust was falling from the ceiling and lamps were swaying on their cords. Lights were flickering. It took her a moment to spot him, standing on the balcony with his arms raised.

"Stop it! You're gonna bring the whole building down!" she ran towards him.

He turned to face her, "Oh, I'm gonna bring down a whole lot more than that!"

His eyes sparkled with exceptional malice. He was cackling. He'd totally lost it. She was afraid.

"Have you ever noticed how meaningless all of this is?"

"What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?"

"Yes, perhaps I'm crazy! And yet, notice how Almighty Father isn't coming to stop me." He bobbed his head from one shoulder to the other and shrugged comically. "I guess this is part of His plan, then! And I'm just playing my part, like a good boy." It was a very sinister display of absurdity.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all. Because, see, nothing can be wrong with me. Everything is happening exactly the way He wants. Don't you understand? It doesn't matter! He's not coming to save his creations. They mean nothing to him. They're just game pieces, and he's gotten bored of the game. So what does it matter if I shake up the board? That was always my role, anyway, to clear the table and let him start anew. I'm the secretary. I bring his coffee. Sorry, dad, coffee's a bit hot today!"

Maze looked at him, bewildered. This was the biggest temper tantrum she'd ever seem him throw, and unlike the others, she had a bad feeling that this one was justified. She had to talk him down before his destruction got out of hand. Her mind was racing. "Okay, I get it, you're upset!"

"Upset? Ha! Who cares? Don't you get it, we were always going to end up here. From the moment I left hell, or maybe from the moment I was created, Father produced this future. He thrust her in my path to teach another one of his cruel lessons, like some sort of righteous Miss Havisham. We are all living in his rotting mansion, dancing around like pieces in his scheme. Well, I'll have no part in it a moment longer!"

"What lesson is it, exactly, that you think he's trying to teach you?" The ground was shaking below and the distant sound of cars honking and people screaming started to rise.

"To know my place! That I should've stayed in hell and obeyed. That I'm not and never will be forgiven. I GOT IT, YOU OLD BASTARD!" He turned back toward the sky. "But there's something else I learned. I learned that your creations are worthless. You'd cast out your own son for refusing to bow to them, but they mean nothing to you, and I mean even less."

On the word 'less,' a crack began to run through the pavement many stories below and branched out into the alleyways. Maze grabbed his arm desperately. "Lucifer, please!"

"Please what?"

"You know this isn't right."

"Isn't that what I do, wrong? Evil? Isn't it who I am?"

"It doesn't have to be."

"Really? I don't remember being given that option! You, more than anyone, have scorned me for the way I've been changing. Well, now I think you might've been right all along!"

Maze sighed. It was true, she'd hated him for breaking his mold because she was so sure it was wrong. It went against everything she knew about him, and by extension, herself. However, the short time on earth had changed them both and she was beginning to see things in a way she never had before. She knew it was because of him. He was leading the way. He saw the inkling of magnificence first, then she followed. She wouldn't let him turn away from it now. "Lucifer, you have that option today."

He looked at her, searching her face.

"You said his creations are meaningless to him. Are they meaningless to you?"

His jaw clenched, but he continued to watch her speak.

"I saw it in your eyes. You once said that humans are beneath you. Perhaps that's true, but look at what you're doing right now. You're doing it because of a human."

Chloe. The rumbling cracked harder.

"Maybe..." Maze put her other hand on his arm now too, "I mean, I don't get it, but maybe she's meant as a gift, not a curse. I know you're suffering now that she'd been taken away, but… she wouldn't want you to do this."

He was lost in thought, carefully contemplating her words. This world, full of filth, has produced a being more beautiful than all of the angels. He couldn't very well ignore this proof of its potential. He was torn. A part of him suffered in searing pain and wanted to consume everything in its sight to find relief, but here was this other part like an unlikely flower pushing through the pavement. It was fragile, young, and precious, and it pushed stubbornly through the thick skin of his soul. For the first time in his life, he'd found something worth saving, and he couldn't save it.

He lowered his arms and was silent for a long time. The rumbling began to die down. The smoke was now dissipating from the air and the rays of sunlight seemed to already be at work cleaning up the mess. Sirens blared from all corners of the city. The news frantically scrambled to report on the earthquakes.

This was the greatest challenge he'd ever faced, and therefore the greatest opportunity for growth. This moment was crucial. He had to choose who he wanted to be. For once, he had a choice. He finally spoke, "You're right, Maze, and I am sorry."

Maze looked astounded and unprepared for that response.

"But you're also wrong. The detective isn't a gift or a curse. She's not for me. She is her own being, and I am merely a witness to her miracle. I have long admired humans for their ingenuity, I have punished their sins, and I have partaken of their exquisite taste, but I've never… until her, I've never seen what merits their hearts are capable of."

He dropped his gaze to the floor, suddenly remorseful of all the damage he'd caused and how long Maze had been cleaning up after him. Thinking of Chloe, he felt ashamed and his heart sank again. She was still gone.

He wandered down to the docks where he'd last seen her, past the chattering crowds and the rush of emergency crews. He sat down on the bank and watched the sun setting over the bridge into the sea.

Life was very confusing. He took a deep breath of salty air and closed his eyes. There was something greater than him here. It was humbling, and infuriating, and excruciating, and marvelous all at once. The human experience, perhaps. The whole package. He was getting the whole package. For a brief moment, he actually felt grateful. Then he remembered her scared eyes.

Suddenly, the sky flashed bright orange. He blinked. A body was falling out of thin air into the water. He jumped up. Surely, it couldn't be…

He dove into the water in his suit before he even heard the splash. The water was cold and murky green. It stung his eyes as he swam toward the spot where she'd landed, brushing seaweeds out of the way until he finally saw her. She had her eyes closed. Her hair was floating around her like a halo and her clothes clung to her body as it spiraled down toward the bottom.

He grasped her hand and pulled himself to her, wrapping his arm around her waist. She was cold, but he could feel her heartbeat. She was alive.

He swam toward the surface. In a flash, he was human again, and as such, he needed air to breathe. It was quickly running out, but he didn't care. He kicked harder, pulling her along, until they finally breached the surface. He looked up at the last rays of the sun and gasped for air, which felt like the sweetest honey pouring down his throat and filling his lungs with life.

He was now holding her on top of him as he swam backwards toward the shore. It was a struggle. His clothes were heavy in the water and body was tired. By the time he managed to pull her out, he collapsed next to her, completely out of breath.

Breath! He rolled over to look at her. "Chloe?" He brushed the hair out of her face and patted her cheek. "Chloe, wake up!"

Oh God. Her chest wasn't moving. She must've swallowed too much seawater, or maybe she was never conscious to begin with. He looked around, disoriented, trying to remember… what is it that humans do when they cannot breathe? CPR? What the devil was that?

Concentrating very hard allowed him to bring up a memory of something he'd seen on TV. He murmured the instructions to himself as he tilted her head back and placed his hands on her chest. He hesitated for a moment, remembering that CPR, done properly, could break her ribs. He couldn't imagine hurting her, but he also couldn't imagine letting her die.

Fortunately, just at that moment, her eyes flung open and she shot up, coughing, then fell back down. He let her cough for just a moment before covering her head with kisses, then quickly realized the faux pas and let her go. He'd never felt so anxious to see what would happen next.

Here it was, the moment of truth. Did she remember what she'd seen? Would she turn away from him?

He was relieved when she sat up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. If only just for this moment, she seemed preoccupied with pulling him close and everything was okay. He squeezed her tight and let himself be lost.