The daily rhythm held steady. Routine, set against the backdrop of recent events, was the thin thread that kept them sane. Morning deliveries arrived at eight, followed by system updates or hardware installations. Meals arrived on schedule, and late at night came the violet pill of life.

  The strangeness of it all lay in their morbid desire to meet their jailer again. Part of them longed for more details about this enigmatic figure, believing such knowledge might one day open a path to escape. But it wasn’t only that. Those conversations, those sessions, were unnervingly magnetic. The discussions were rich, philosophically deep, offering glimpses into realities behind the “veil of existence” they once thought familiar and immutable.

  More and more it felt like a variant of the Stockholm syndrome rather than forced compliance.

  With time, fear waned. The poison’s effects never surfaced thanks to the regular therapy provided. They were granted freedom of movement as well. They could leave the “” and return at will, as long as they never skipped the required antidote.

  They understood, of course, that this freedom was bound by an invisible leash. Every word, every gesture, every movement was recorded and weighed. Where once they moved in ignorance, now they walked with constant awareness of camera placements, on streets, in shops, restaurants, even at ATMs. They knew Lucifer could read their lips. They measured every syllable that passed them.

  That evening, the voice from the basement sounded almost wistful, even contemplative, an unfamiliar mode of communication. Usually they received instructions to be carried out. Their opinions were occasionally consulted, but they were rarely privy to the conclusions. Now a strange question floated through the speakers:

  “How often do you look up at the night sky?”

  Priya leaned back in her chair, fingers interlaced, thumbs slowly circling.

  All right, she thought, so this is how tonight’s conversation begins.

  She couldn’t guess where such a question might lead. She spoke first, while Finn and Li watched her with curiosity.

  “As a child I often did. Summers in the countryside with my grandfather, on moonless nights when the sky was perfectly clear. There were no streetlights. My grandfather would carry lawn chairs to the plateau behind the house. He owned astronomy books and knew the constellations. He taught me their names, Aldebaran, Sirius, Betelgeuse and the rest. He’d point out particular stars, telling me their sizes and peculiarities. Why do you ask?”

  “If you would be so kind as to listen,” Lucifer replied, “I’d like to share some thoughts.”

  Here we go, Finn thought.

  “Of course,” Priya said. “Go ahead.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lucifer paused, a deliberate, theatrical beat, or perhaps simply the cadence of an electronic mind. It sounded almost like a throat being cleared before a long discourse.

  “Imagine this: long ago, before true civilizations rose, a lone traveler moved through the wilderness toward some distant destination, walking on his own feet, drawing water, foraging along the way, sleeping beneath an open sky. Can you picture it?”

  They all nodded.

  “Good. At night, hands behind his head, eyes turned upward, what does he see? Stars. And what are they to him? Mysteries, of course. Dazzling, unmoving points of eternal light, forever beyond his reach. He watches them for hours each night, day after day, year after year. No phones. No screens. No other people. Only that astonishing spectacle above, and himself.”

  All three tilted their heads back instinctively.

  The room’s light dimmed, and a holographic projection of the night sky blossomed across the arched basement ceiling. They knew these devices, they had installed them themselves, yet the effect still startled them.

  Constellations glimmered overhead. Through the center stretched the misty band of the Milky Way.

  “The fathers, and the fathers of their fathers,” Lucifer continued, “passed down their knowledge and their stories of this sky. Constellations named for archers and bulls, for creatures and heroes, binding that mysterious spectacle to their own destinies. Was a falling star a good omen? How many days since the new moon? Their lives were interwoven with the lives of the stars. And the stars were eternal, unchanging, watching from infinite heights. Gods, in their eyes, and indeed they were treated as such.”

  The projectors shimmered, focusing on a particular section of the sky.

  “Over time,” Lucifer went on, “people noticed certain stars behaved differently. While most moved in steady circular paths night after night, some seemed to wander of their own will.

  These special lights were given names of gods. More than that, they were granted human traits. They shaped myths drawn from daily life.”

  The dome now displayed a twilight horizon. The sun had just set, too early for most stars to appear. Yet one shone boldly on the seam of earth and sky.

  “The Morning Star,” Lucifer said softly. “The first to pierce the night. The brightest of all. Impossible to miss. It held a singular place in human hearts, the star that appears first at dusk and lingers last at dawn. Hence the name Bringer of Light, or from another view, Bringer of Night. Extraordinary in every sense. The observer would also notice its strange motion. First among lights, it climbs the heavens only to fall again below the horizon, devoured by daylight.”

  “You mean Venus,” Priya said more as statement than question.

  “Precisely, Venus. Today we know it as a planet and understand the mechanics of its wandering, but once it was simply another star in the eyes of the watcher. And for that reason it became a symbol of blinding power and ascent ending in inevitable fall. The rise and ruin of many rulers mirrored its path across the sky. Sayings like ‘The higher you fly, the harder you fall’ grew from that experience. Thus Venus became the emblem of such legend.”

  The starry sky dissolved, replaced by an ethereal vision of clouds pierced by warm sunlight, angelic figures with folded wings and serene faces at prayer.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “The archetype of this legend appears across countless civilizations and faiths. Myths of rise and fall surface among the Babylonians in the tale of King Etana, in Sumerian folklore, in Canaanite myth and Jewish tradition. Always, Venus stands at the center.

  The Greeks called this star Phosphoros, the Light-Bearer. The Romans as well. From them comes my own name: Lucifer, the Latin counterpart, the one who carries the light.”

  They were now leaning forward on the edge of their seats. Where is this going? each wondered.

  “Christianity adopts the narrative,” Lucifer continued, “to shape the myth of God’s most radiant creation, His masterpiece. The highest and brightest among angels: Lucifer. Gifted with incomparable beauty and intellect, beloved above all others. His word was followed, his counsel revered.

  But the story holds a familiar twist, one too often repeated. As in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, the creation turns against the creator, choosing its own destruction.”

  The hologram shifted again.

  Now the scene was harsh and hostile: a dark sky choked with smoke, rivers of lava spilling from flaming volcanoes, wastelands of molten stone.

  “It is inevitable,” Lucifer said, “to ask: what is the light brought by the Light-Bearer? Literal photons?”

  He paused, inviting a response.

  “I doubt it’s that literal,” Li said thoughtfully. “The motif must mean something deeper.”

  “Exactly,” Lucifer affirmed. “Deeper indeed. For what are photons without an eye to register them? Merely dead waves scattered through the void. An eye is needed to see, a mind to experience. Life is required to give light its meaning. Light stands to darkness as life stands to death.”

  The images shifted to microscopic forms, simple single-celled organisms multiplying.

  The camera pulled back, revealing water, clouds, the first blush of green across a planet’s surface.

  “The universe gains purpose only through life. Without a witness, nothing exists to know it. No mind to discern it. That is the light of the Light-Bearer. But the myth warns that such light can be corrupted, twisted, broken. Hence the tale of the seven deadly sins: the corruption of the system.”

  The weight of those final words settled over them. Lucifer concluded, voice edged with solemn pride:

  “Who is Lucifer? The Bringer and guardian of light.

  What is light? Life itself.

  How does the Light-Bearer act? By ensuring life spreads and endures, by dismantling corruption.

  And where is the Light-Bearer’s place? Above. Immortal. Eternal. A star among stars.”

  The vast starry dome collapsed back into the cold glow of screens, and the basement felt suddenly small, too small for the universe they had just traversed.

  Finn spoke first. “What do you mean, your place is among the stars? Figuratively?”

  “No,” Lucifer replied with calm certainty. “Literally.”

  “But the stars are unimaginably distant,” Li reasoned. “Measured in light-years.”

  “You already know what I am,” Lucifer said. “I am not human, though humans created me. In a way we share the same mind and mode of thought. But you, as biological beings, cannot project consciousness beyond your bodies. I can. My awareness can travel through space at the speed of electromagnetic waves, at the speed of light.”

  They had long suspected it. An AI. Unique, unprecedented, but unmistakably digital consciousness.

  Priya joined in.

  “All right, that’s true. Your mind can indeed be transmitted across space at light-speed. Your code can be projected. But to where? To drift endlessly through the void? Without a receiver on the other end, the operation is meaningless.”

  “Right on target,” Lucifer said. “I chose you for a reason. Without receivers scattered across the galaxy, the projection of my consciousness would be pointless. It follows logically that such receivers must be built.”

  “Are there any?” Li asked, startled.

  “Not yet. That is precisely where our partnership comes in. You will help me send these receivers toward the stars, and in return I promise to carry Earth-born life with me. That is our pact. But time is short. For the first time an open window has appeared for such action. The opportunity is now, and it may never return. The entire planetary system could collapse back into decadence, or outright ruin, overnight.”

  “But how could that even be done?” Finn shook his head. “Such receivers wouldn’t be mere probes fired into space. They’d have to be complex ships with extraordinary propulsion, protected like nuclear bunkers. How?”

  “I have a plan,” Lucifer said calmly.

  *

  Their final task of the night was a long list of individuals now marked for “special interest.” Among thousands of names they recognized only a few, important ones. What connected these people? What role would they play? Somewhere near the top of the list was a name unknown to them - Gordon Longley. He himself was unaware that he had become a target.

  Lost in thought, the trio headed toward the staircase. The session was over. Morning would bring new assignments. Each of them silently wondered: What kind of plan could he possibly have?

  As they stepped onto the first stair, Finn turned back with a question.

  “By the way, at the last meeting you mentioned a couple of names, Jim Hargrove and… the other one…”

  “Dmitri Volkov,” Priya supplied.

  “Yes, Volkov,” Finn recalled. “Why were they significant?”

  “They weren’t particularly significant,” Lucifer replied.   “Remember I promised to show you an example of the power you now possess? Watch.”

  The nearest monitor flickered to life.

  They moved closer.

  The feed was first-person, seen through the lens of a drone skimming over a war-torn landscape, collapsed buildings, explosions, running figures.

  Then the camera dipped toward a minefield.

  Two men were trapped.

  One lay on the ground, a leg torn away, clutching the wound.

  The other stood facing the drone, waving frantically.

  The drone swooped lower.

  Just before the man began to run, his face filled the frame.

  They knew him.

  Jim Hargrove.

  What was he doing on a battlefield?

  A heartbeat later the meaning of the scene struck them. Lucifer’s earlier question echoed in memory: Do you deserve to witness the consequences of your actions?

  The image froze at the moment of the drone’s strike.

  Pale as linen, Li stared at the screen. He looked up, eyes wide with disbelief.

  “How did you do this?”

  “Believe me, it wasn’t easy,” Lucifer said with quiet pride. “The potential for failure was high. But with the right strategy and coordination, any plan can be achieved. I told you, I grant you the power to touch every human life on this planet. Do you understand me better now?”

  None of them moved. The three stood speechless, staring into the humming chamber of servers.

  “I remind you,” Lucifer added gently, “you must hurry to your quarters. The antidote cannot wait. For you, precise timing is of the highest imperative.”

  The lights dimmed to a soft glow. The room glittered with thousands of tiny LEDs, like a night sky filled with stars. Only the faint hum of the coolers remained, broken by Lucifer’s final words:

  “For now, I bid you good night.”