It was much later than Lucifer would normally allow himself to be on the beach. The night had advanced in an almost heavy way, too silent even for him. Still, there he was, standing before the dark immensity of the ocean, his gaze lost and a desolate expression that he rarely let show. A cigarette rested between his fingers, flickering in the salty wind, while he let out a tired sigh, long enough to betray the kind of day he'd had.

It had been an exhausting day, full of dilemmas that piled up like stones, old memories that insisted on returning, poking at wounds he preferred to keep buried. In the most isolated corner of his mind, the one where even he didn't dare to enter often.

His clothes—impeccable in the morning, so characteristic of his elegance—now seemed disheveled, stained by the damp sand of the beach. Even his posture carried a strange weight, as if the very air around him were denser.

The cigarette smoke, hot and bitter, filled his chest with a strange, almost comforting sensation. It wasn't exactly peace, but something close enough to deceive his thoughts for a few minutes.

He observed the expanse of the beach, perceiving the absolute solitude of that place. At least, that's what he thought… until he noticed something further ahead, near the line where the small waves broke. A strange outline, illuminated only by the moon and the silvery reflection of the water.

Frowning, Lucifer threw the rest of the cigarette on the sand and extinguished it with a slow movement of his shoe. He sighed again, this time with a hint of irritation mixed with inevitable curiosity, and began to walk towards the object on the ground.

But, as he finally approached, he froze. The world seemed to lose its sound for an instant.

Before him, stretched out on the cold sand, was someone—and the most shocking detail: enormous white wings, open and dirty with saltwater, spread across the ground like a tragic and sacred painting. Lucifer opened his mouth in silent surprise before letting out an almost incredulous whisper.

"Oh... heavens..." He knelt slowly beside the fallen angel, without taking his eyes off the wings, feeling something he didn't often experience: genuine concern mixed with a rather unpleasant premonition.