"Sit there." Azrael's voice was firm as he pointed to a chair that, oddly enough, she hadn't noticed before. "And don't even think about making a scene."
Before Ceres could protest, he was already walking toward the judge-like figures seated at the long, imposing table at the front of the room.
She watched as he approached them, their hushed conversation just out of her ear's reach. But she could see how, every now and then, their gazes flickered toward her.
Knowing she wasn't allowed to cause a commotion, and having no intention of testing Azrael's patience, lest he decide to smite her on the spot, Ceres shifted her attention to the rest of the room.
It was strange. The space felt both small and infinitely vast at the same time. The architecture, like the hallway before, was a blend of white and gold, yet there was a heaviness in the air that made it clear this was no ordinary place.
Souls stood in line, waiting for judgment.
Some looked relieved, their faces lighting up as they received their verdict. Others were devastated, breaking into sobs or dropping to their knees in despair. A few, though, were outright begging, pleading, wailing, trying to grasp at the robes of the celestial beings before them.
Ceres's lips curled slightly in distaste.
Pathetic.
If she were to be sent to hell, then so be it. She wouldn't grovel. She wouldn't beg.
She would take her judgment with her chin held high. She had lived her life on her own terms, and she regretted nothing.
"Ceres Evadne Monteverde."
The booming voice sent a shiver down her spine.
She swallowed, suddenly aware that all eyes in the room had turned to her.
Standing, she hesitated for a moment. Should she cut the long line of people waiting? Would that even be allowed?
"Step forward."
Well. That answered that.
Ceres strode toward the judges, her steps confident despite the uncertainty creeping into her mind.
"Place your hand on the crystal before you."
She glanced down at the large, shimmering orb resting at the center of the table. Oddly enough, none of the three celestial beings had moved their mouths when they spoke, yet their voices resonated through the room as if they had thunder in their throats.
Without hesitation, she placed her palm on the surface of the crystal.
The moment she did, the weighing scale in front of the judges came to life.
It swayed violently, tipping back and forth like an unstable seesaw, as if it couldn't decide which side was heavier, her sins or her virtues. Faster and faster it moved, the golden plates shifting, struggling to find balance.
Then, without warning,
It snapped.
The scale shattered into pieces, sending fragments flying. The entire room fell into stunned silence.
Ceres stared. The souls standing behind her gawked.
'Oh great. Even in the afterlife, people are gossiping about me,' she thought dryly as she caught snippets of murmured conversations from behind.
The three judges sighed.
Not visibly, because they still hadn't moved a muscle, but she heard it.
Azrael, standing at the side, simply raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"You were not supposed to die yet." The voice that spoke this time was different from the one before, deeper, steadier. "The life you have lived is not enough for the universe to judge whether you belong in heaven or hell. But one thing is certain, you do not belong in Limbo."
Before Ceres could react, the weighing scale reappeared in front of the judges, fully restored as if it had never been broken.
"And," another voice added, "we cannot send your soul back to your original body. It is no longer possible."
Ceres stiffened. "What?"
The third judge spoke. "So we have decided to send you to another world, one where a body that can accommodate your soul is waiting. You will remain in that world until the day you are meant to return here."
Her mouth opened, then closed.
Her brain struggled to process their words.
"…You mean to tell me," she said slowly, her voice almost dangerously calm, "that I really have to live for another seventy-nine years just so you can judge me properly?"
"Yes."
All three voices spoke at once.
Ceres gawked at them. "Are you insane?!"
Her sudden outburst echoed across the chamber, making a few souls in line flinch.
"I'm not going to do that! I refuse to wait and live a life that long! Do you know how boring that sounds? I'll just kill myself and get it over with!"
A powerful force rippled through the air.
"You do not have a say in this matter." The voice was louder this time, final, absolute.
Ceres bristled. "Oh, so you get the final say, huh?! If you have that much power, why don't you just send me straight to hell or heaven and be done with it?!" she snapped, her patience officially gone.
There was a pause.
"Do you really think your attitude right now, young lady, is deserving of heaven?"
The tone was scolding, like a father reprimanding an unruly child.
Ceres scowled. "Then send me to hell!" she huffed, crossing her arms.
Before the judges could respond, another voice entered the conversation.
A deep, rich, baritone voice.
"Don't you dare send her to hell this early."
Ceres froze.
Slowly, she turned to the source of the voice.
Leaning against the wall stood a man.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Bare-chested.
His skin was smooth, his muscles sculpted as if he had been carved by the gods themselves. He wore only black-and-red pants that clung to his legs, accentuating his strong build.
But it wasn't just his looks that caught Ceres's attention.
It was his presence.
He exuded an aura of danger, raw and powerful, like a wildfire that could consume everything in its path if he so much as willed it. His golden eyes gleamed with something unreadable, and the slow, knowing smirk that tugged at his lips sent a shiver down Ceres's spine.
Devil-may-care handsome.
Ceres barely managed to suppress a sharp inhale.
Who the hell is this?
And more importantly,
Why does he look like he just walked straight out of a forbidden fantasy?
But most of all, what right did this dangerously good-looking bastard have to decide her fate?
As if amused by her reaction, he flashed a dazzling smile and took slow, deliberate steps toward her.
"My dear, beautiful, perfect Ceres," he murmured, his voice dripping with charm as his hands landed lightly on her shoulders. His words were sweet, flattering even, but she wasn't fooled, there was something about the way he spoke that made her feel like he was coaxing her into something. "Why don't you be a good girl and do as the Three Fates tell you? Live your life in that new world. There's still so much you want to do, so much you can do. Not everyone is given this opportunity."
Ceres narrowed her eyes at him, unconvinced. This bastard is too smooth.
She crossed her arms, her brows furrowing. "Are you, by any chance… Lucifer?" she asked, suspicion laced in her tone.
Lucifer smirked at her, looking every bit like a proud older brother who just watched his sibling figure something out on their own.
"Not only beautiful but intelligent too," he said in approval. "I didn't even have to introduce myself, and yet you already know who I am."
Ceres stared at him, momentarily dumbfounded.
She was actually standing in front of the literal Devil. The terrifying, infamous King of Hell himself.
But what really baffled her, what truly left her speechless, was the implication of what he was saying.
Her expression darkened. "Are you saying I don't belong in Hell?" she asked, eyes narrowing.
"I never said that," Lucifer countered smoothly.
"But you implied it."
Her voice rose slightly, suspicion lacing every syllable.
Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temple like he was already exhausted by the conversation. "Look, sweetheart… "
"Don't sweetheart me." Ceres glared at him.
Lucifer chuckled before continuing. "The universe has deemed that your actions aren't enough to warrant an eternity in Hell. And contrary to popular belief, I don't just throw people into the flames for my own amusement. This is my job, and I take my job very seriously."
He gestured lazily with his hand as he continued, "Punishing souls is necessary to give them a second chance, an opportunity for reincarnation. Once they've truly learned their lessons, their souls are wiped clean, free to live again with a fresh start. And if, after multiple chances, a soul still refuses to change, then it is purged permanently."
He leaned in slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers.
"Now tell me, Ceres, do you really think I'd punish you for sins you haven't committed?"
Ceres scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah! Because you're the Devil."
Lucifer placed a dramatic hand over his chest, feigning hurt. "That actually wounds me, sweetheart."
Ceres shot him a glare. "I told you not to sweetheart me."
But she wasn't fooled. She could feel it, there was something else he wasn't telling her.
She leveled him with a sharp stare, tilting her head slightly. "I know you're sweet-talking me," she accused. "There's another reason you don't want me in Hell, isn't there? Why don't you just spill it already?"
Lucifer sighed, shaking his head before flashing her a wicked grin. "Alright, fine."
Then, before she could react, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss against her cheek.
A kiss so light, so fleeting, yet it felt like it carried the weight of something far more significant.
It wasn't affection.
It was betrayal.
The kiss of Judas.
Ceres barely had time to process it before Lucifer pulled back, smirking at her stunned expression.
"I don't want to risk the fact that you might be able to usurp my throne."
Her eyes widened.
What?!
Before she could demand an explanation, Lucifer suddenly shoved her backward.
The force of it wasn't violent, but it was absolute.
And then, Ceres felt it.
The sensation of falling.
Like the ground had suddenly disappeared beneath her feet.
Like she had been thrown into an endless, dark abyss.
The last thing she saw was Lucifer standing there, waving at her with a smug grin on his face.
"Fuck you, Lucifer!" she screamed as she plummeted deeper and deeper into the unknown.
Lucifer only chuckled, his voice echoing through the void.
"See you in seventy-nine years, sweetheart."