Chapter — Death's Dance and the Devil's Choice
The crimson haze of Lux pulsed like a heartbeat, intoxicating, electric, dangerous.
The crowd below writhed to the rhythm, drinks clinked, whispered secrets floated in the air. But up here? On the balcony? It was just me… and Natasha Romanoff, her eyes sharp as razors, her curiosity barely masked beneath that assassin's poise.
"So… you're not with SHIELD, not on any file, yet you walk in like you own the place," Natasha remarked, arms crossed, gaze piercing. "Either you're stupid… or very dangerous."
I smiled, sipping my drink, cosmic energy simmering just beneath the surface. "Option three — I'm both."
She arched an eyebrow, amused despite herself.
Before I could push further, the room shifted — a ripple through space, time, and fate.
The stage lit up. Delilah, the singer, glowing under the spotlight, her voice like honey and heartbreak, filled the room.
The same Delilah who, in the TV timeline, wouldn't make it out of this song alive.
I exhaled slowly, feeling the threads of destiny tighten.
"Do you hear that?" I asked Natasha, who was too focused on me to notice yet.
"Hear what?"
The gunshot cracked through the club, slicing the music like a blade.
Chaos erupted. Screams, glass shattering, people ducking for cover.
Natasha reacted instantly, diving toward the crowd, scanning for threats.
Me? I stayed put. Watching. Calculating. The shooter bolted for the exit, but that wasn't my concern — not yet.
Delilah, bleeding out on the floor, her final notes drowned in panic.
And there, striding through the chaos like he owned every sin in the room, Lucifer Morningstar, eyes wide, anger simmering beneath charm.
I met him halfway, stepping over broken glass, ignoring mortals scrambling for safety.
He knelt beside Delilah, her breaths shallow, life slipping like sand through fingers.
"You want me to save her?" I asked casually, cosmic authority crackling in the air.
Lucifer's eyes snapped to mine, that devilish bravado faltering for a split second.
"You…" He recognized me fully now. Death. But not the old version — the new, upgraded, inconveniently powerful version.
I crouched beside him, watching Delilah fade. "I can pull her soul back. Rewrite the thread. But—" I shrugged, "—you know the rules."
His jaw tightened. "Her soul…"
"Is mine," I finished, smiling darkly. "Unless, of course, you've got divine clearance from Daddy upstairs. But last I checked, she didn't get His forgiveness… and my Boss? Well, you know how that goes."
Lucifer hesitated, a flicker of pain crossing his features.
I leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "You choose, Luci. Do I send her to the R.H. — Reaper's Holding — or do you cash in a divine favor?"
He clenched his fists, frustration palpable. But he knew. This wasn't his playground anymore. The cosmic balance shifted, and I was holding the scales now.
I stood, brushing imaginary dust from my tailored suit, glancing at Natasha, who reappeared beside me, curiosity burning in those green eyes.
"What the hell is going on?" she demanded, eyes flicking between me and the scene.
I winked. "Death. Choices. Consequences."
Behind me, Delilah's final breath slipped away.
"Time's up," I announced, snapping my fingers.
A faint shimmer — her soul, radiant but cracked, hovered for a moment before vanishing into the ether.
Lucifer swore under his breath, grief hidden beneath that devil-may-care smirk.
I patted his shoulder. "She's in holding. You want to appeal? You know where to find me."
Turning to Natasha, I extended my hand, charm dialed to maximum. "How about that dance now? You only live once… and I keep track of when that ends."
She stared, wary, fascinated, unsure whether to kiss me or stab me.
"Who… exactly… are you?" she asked finally.
I grinned, leading her back to the dance floor as order reluctantly returned.
"Death, darling," I whispered as the music resumed, "but you can call me Daniel."
And as we danced beneath the infernal glow of Lux, the Devil watched, angels frowned, demons whispered…
And Death? Death was just getting started.