The low thrum of the bar, usually a welcome escape, was starting to feel heavy as the hour grew late. The hum of conversations around you was a pleasant drone. Suddenly, your phone buzzed incessantly in your hand, a rapid-fire series of notifications. It was Lucifer. His texts came in quick succession, a flurry of increasingly exasperated messages:

• "Answer your D.D.D. now."

• "Where are you?"

• "This isn't amusing. Respond."

• "I've located your general vicinity. You have precisely five minutes before I dispatch the others."

• "Don't ignore me."

• "Too late."

Concurrently, calls from his number kept cutting off, indicating he was likely trying to reach you multiple times, only for the connection to drop or for you to not pick up. The sheer volume and escalating urgency in his messages were both alarming and slightly humorous. You could almost feel the precise muscle in his brow twitching with each unanswered text and failed call.

Not even three minutes after his final text, the bar's lively chatter faltered, then died entirely. A palpable shift in the air, a sudden drop in temperature, preceded their entrance. The doors swung open with a dramatic creak, revealing Lucifer striding in, a terrifyingly composed figure of righteous indignation. His gaze, colder than the ice in your glass, swept the room, instantly locking onto you. Behind him, a small, equally unimpressed entourage of his brothers followed. Mammon looked utterly exasperated, already muttering about late nights and wasted time.

Leviathan shielded his eyes from the garish bar lights, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. Asmodeus simply smirked, finding the entire scenario vastly amusing, perhaps even fanning himself dramatically. And Satan, surprisingly, was there too, looking vaguely disgruntled, probably dragged away from a particularly engrossing book.

Lucifer reached your table in a few swift strides, his presence alone enough to make everyone within a five-foot radius subtly recoil. He didn't speak immediately, simply stared down at you, his eyes burning with a silent, intense reprimand that promised a very long, very stern conversation later.

The air crackled with his barely contained displeasure, a tangible force that made the bar staff visibly wilt. You knew, with a sinking feeling, that the night was far from over.