They used to stand shoulder to shoulder, conversing without uttering a single word, their laughter the only sign that an exchange had taken place at all.
One single thought shattered everything, created chaos and mayhem, creating perhaps the brightest light in all of creation, the Dragonslayer.
The Lightbringer's presence brushes against the archangel's, pushes and cuts through it as Lucifer strides past the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve - as insignificant as their progenitors and even more negligible - but does not cause any disturbance. He is not the troublemaker they make him out to be, panting, gasping and salivating for their precious immortal souls. To him their souls are worthless. It has never been about them anyway.
The Emperor of Hell stands before the General of Heaven, dispassionate gaze resting on the angel, as the buildings and towers of a silver city manifest themselves around them. They cannot last even a second before the illusion flickers, blown into nothingness by the scent of bloodied wings.