The Guardian stood on a ledge at the top of the Empire State Building, wings fully expanded, his eyes black as night. He had an arm wrapped around Serah's chest, his free hand clutching a knife. He held it to her throat as she trembled, tears streaking her flushed cheeks. She was barely holding herself together. Abaddon's strong grip was the only thing keeping her upright. "Ah, speak of the devil and he shall appear."

Serah cried loudly, letting out a horrified scream when Luce manifested in front of her. He froze in spot, a few feet away as his eyes met hers. He could feel her fear, the sensation so overwhelming that it nearly crippled him. He knew what she saw when she looked his way. His massive wings were fully expanded, the knife gripped firmly in his hand. Blood trickled down his cheek as more coated his ripped shirt on his side.

"I'm glad you could make it," Abaddon said, his voice calm. "Do me a favor and toss aside that knife, will you?"

Luce hesitated before dropping his knife. It clattered against the concrete of the ledge, landing between them. "What do you think you're doing, Don?"

"What I have to," Abaddon answered right away. "I didn't want it to come to this, but you gave me no choice."

"You've always had a choice," Luce said. "You chose to join me long ago, and then you chose to abandon me when it suited you. You chose to stand around while I was punished for your indiscretions. So don't talk to me about choices, because you have them, and you've made them. But now, old friend, you've severely limited mine."

A slow smile spread across his lips. "That's where you're wrong, Lucifer."

The second Abaddon said his name, he closed his eyes, hearing the gasp escape Serah's lips, a surprising exhale. "Lucifer?"

Abaddon laughed, looking genuinely amused when Luce opened his eyes again. Serah was staring at him, stunned. He could see she had questions, questions Abaddon, too, sensed.

"Aw, you didn't know, did you?" Abaddon asked, the words full of forced compassion that didn't at all match the amusement that danced in his eyes. "You didn't know your lover was the one-and-only Lucifer. The elusive Prince of Darkness. Here he let you think he was some storybook Prince Charming when really he's the King of Hell."

Serah's lips parted, the next word barely a breath, but it held so much power it nearly knocked Lucifer off the ledge. "Satan."

Satan.

He hated that fucking name.

Abaddon tugged on Serah roughly, yanking on the fabric of her shirt with the hand snaked around her, exposing part of her chest. His fingertips traced her scar. His words were directed at Serah, but Luce knew they were meant for him, that they were meant to wound him in a way no knife would.

"Who do you think gave you this scar?" Abaddon asked as he pressed his palm against her chest. "Who do you think took your memories away?"

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No."

Luce couldn't meet her eyes. He knew she'd see the truth in his.

"You see, Serah," Abaddon said, "you were once like us. Once, not long ago, you had wings. But Lucifer here manipulated you. He robbed you of everything, left you bleeding in the street. And he did it all with that knife right there, the one laying in front of you on the concrete. You were innocent, until the notorious Lucifer tore you to pieces, one whispered lie at a time."

"Luce," she called out, her voice quivering. "Please tell me that's not true. Tell me this isn't real. Tell me something… please… tell me I'm crazy."

Luce met her eyes, drinking in the heartbreak those words had caused. That heart, a heart he savored every time it beat, was shattering over him. "You're not crazy. You've never been crazy."

"No," she whispered again. "Don't tell me that. Please. Don't… don't tell me this is real."

"I am who he says I am," Luce said. "I did what he says I did."

"No." She nearly collapsed as sobs tore through her. "Don't say that!"

"It's the truth," Luce continued, trying to ignore the ache her words caused. "I took half of the angels down with me when I fell, and I took you, too. I took you cruelly. You trusted me. You believed in me. You thought everyone was wrong when they called me Satan, but I proved them right by making you fall."

"You're crazy," she cried.

"No, I'm just a sinner," Luce said. "And a liar. And a snake. I ruled Hell for six thousand years until you helped me escape."

She could do nothing but stare at him. Devastation marked her features. Defeat slumped her shoulders. Her tears steadily streamed down her cheeks, but he could do nothing to dry them when he'd been the one to cause them in the first place.

"I'm a lot of bad things, Serah, but that's not all I am, nor is that why we're here," Luce continued. "You see, there's something else I am, something Abaddon knows."

"What?" she asked. "What are you?"

"I'm in love with you," Luce said quietly. "He found my weakness."

Serah never had a chance to respond. Before the last syllable was from his lips, a painful gasp echoed through air as the knife Abaddon held sliced through Serah's throat. Blood streamed from the wound as he let go of her, shoving her right over the edge.

Make your choice, brother, and make it quick.

Abaddon's words rang through Luce's mind as he hesitated for a fraction of a second. A fraction of a section, barely a blip, but it was almost too long. He dove off the side of the building, soaring as fast as he could, snatching a hold of Serah just a second before she hit the ground.