Lucifer had no choice but to embark on his second wild goose chase of the night.

  The neck of the woods behind The Big House was much more dense and convoluted than the one near the Bayou, rivaled only by the one behind the mansion. It was home to dirt trails, gravel roads, quick sand pits. Lucifer had even come across a locker station.

  But the real stand-out of the night was an area off of the beaten path, populated by a series of stone caves. They were enshrouded by a low-hanging fog and cropped up every few dozen feet. They were guarded by pop-ups that Lucifer couldn’t work his way around.

  [PASSWORD PROTECTED

  Hint: Which House belongs to Mims?]

  Lucifer didn’t know what one ‘Mim’ was, let alone multiple. He moved on.

  [PASSWORD PROTECTED

  Hint: What are a supervisor’s hours in The Dream Factory?]

  Lucifer made an educated guess. He keyed in ‘24.’

  [1 FAILED PASSWORD ATTEMPT. 1 REMAINING.

  Hint #2: What are a supervisor’s actual hours in The Dream Factory?]

  Lucifer had half a mind to try ‘0,’ but the other half told him to get back to the task at hand.

  And a task it was. Because in true angel fashion, the thing disappeared without a trace, leaving Lucifer to wonder for the umpteenth time if all of this was some elaborate fever dream.

  There was no trail of angel dust leading to its hiding place, no golden light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. But after a while of wandering, something piqued his nose’s interest.

  Sniff sniff. Sniff—

  Lucifer dropped to his knees and swabbed a hand across the cold dirt. He followed his nose’s lead until.

  “Aha!” Something cold and wet coated his fingers. He brought it up to his nose and let out relieved chuckle.

  “Finally,” he chuckled. It was the barbecue sauce.

  Moving slowly, crouched down, it wasn’t long before Lucifer found himself bumping into the familiar firmness of a notification screen. But oddly enough, it was powered off. Hesitantly, Lucifer tapped it. And that did the trick. Once roused, it slowly flickered on, revealing its large size and dim display, peppered with dead pixels. It read:

  [New Task!

  Objective: Go Away

  Reward: 0.00000000000007HP

  Do you accept?

  YES | YES]

  …How cute.

  Lucifer tried to maneuver around the screen, but it moved with him, blocking his view of what he was certain was the angel’s hiding place.

  He gritted his teeth. Even cuter.

  Giving up, Lucifer defaulted to his old reliable. Guilt.

  “Angel? I must say, this behavior is deeply unbecoming. What would your Father say?”

  A loud belch came from behind the notification. “Something along the lines of, ‘Do not disturb.’ You know, like the sign He put up to stop your kind from ruining Heaven.”

  And.

  It may have had him there.

  But Lucifer wasn’t gonna take that sitting down.

  “Angel,” he tried again, face hardened but voice softened. “Be reasonable, won’t you? Aren’t we to do as our Father says, not as He does?”

  Lucifer heard a snicker. “Oh yeah?” The angel called back, through a mouth full of food. All of the pretense of their first meeting had dropped. “And what’d He say to you? To die young, spend your afterlife being a glorified hall monitor, get fired because you suck, and end up in exiled in the armpit of Heaven?”

  “Close, but not quite,” Lucifer declared. “Though, if I’m remembering correctly, He might have instructed you, ‘To be a steward of Heaven, saddled with the honor of ushering the Recently Departed along their journey unto eternity.’”

  The chewing abruptly stopped, as did the belching and back talk.

  Lucifer allowed himself a little half-smirk as the sound of bare feet padding against hardwood floors approached him. Gotcha.

  Then the angel’s human head popped up above the notification. It was at full glow and, this time, was topped by a thick ponytail, the same pasty hue as her skin. Her eyes, two twinkling pools of indignation, were narrowed at Lucifer.

  “Who told you that?”

  A full smirk slipped out before Lucifer could duck his head. Playing coy, he simply shrugged, finally standing up. The angel shifted uncomfortably as Lucifer made a show of stretching and yawning. Eventually, he replied, “An old friend.”

  Right on cue, the angel shoved the notification box out of its way, revealing its nude, unsexed form. It inched closer to Lucifer. The warm light of its home—a hidey-hole situated in a tree hollow—spilled out into the night, revealing its absurd interior. The entryway was a pigsty, to be sure, but a very roomy one, with overflowing garbage cans lining the walls, but still leaving enough room for two to pass.

  The angel lowered itself to his level and crossed its arms, sizing him up with a slow, parsing look. It ended with a slow smirk to match Lucifer’s.

  “Must be some friend of yours,” it said. Lucifer faltered. It continued under its breath, “Giving you that shitty translation and all.”

  “Pardon?”

  “That translation? It was shitty. Massaged. Prolly cooked up by some wannabe who overheard it pressing their ear to The Throne Room’s door.”

  The angel spun on its heel dismissively. It started to walk into the tree hollow, but stopped just short of it. It looked over its shoulder, sporting a smirk rivaling the one Lucifer had just dropped. “And to make things worse, it’s old.”

  “‘Old?’” Lucifer looked at it as if it’d lost its mind. “The word of God is outdated? Aren’t you ashamed of your blasphemy, angel?!”

  Instead of replying, it dismissed the notification with a snap of its fingers, and sauntered inside, giving Lucifer the closest thing to an invitation he was going to get. Lucifer accepted.

  Off to his left was the kitchen, which completely dominated the space. There was a floor-to-ceiling refrigerator on each wall, appliances even fancier than the ones Lucifer had seen in palaces, and a long center table set with one plate stacked high with chicken bones at the head, and countless serving dishes along its lengths. To his right was a dusty living room, which looked entirely untouched, and much less crowded.

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  And at the far end of the living room, next to a hallway leading into an unlit back space, was a big bookshelf. The angel thumbed at the spines, mumbling to itself as it searched for one in particular. Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the titles.

  Twigs and Berries: The Basics, Elevated

  One Fish, Two Fish, Angelfish, Stew Fish

  There was cookbook after cookbook, with increasingly interesting subject matter, but none of them seemed to be what the angel was after. Until it made a little victorious noise and tapped on a bit of leather proudly.

  “Take a seat,” it said, struggling to dislodge the book, which was at least twice the width of A to Z and Back Again: Recipes for Any Occasion. Lucifer moved to help, but it shot him a look that told him to sit down instead.

  After some grunting and heaving, the angel got the book and plopped it on the table. Lucifer instantly recognized it—if its magnitude wasn’t enough of a giveaway, it had that golden rainbow emblem he was beginning to grow weary of, burned into the cover.

  It was the Handbook.

  The angel slid the book over to him and cracked it open to the very last page. “Look.” Its finger underlined a bit of fine print at the bottom of the page.

  [Version 1.1]

  Lucifer’s eyes all but bugged out of his head. Revision?

  [Please note the following time-sensitive update, as dictated by the Office of the Head Assistant Manager’s Acting Administrator-In-Training-By-Proxy:

  Until we have reestablished contact with God, it is impossible for our office to enforce, let alone advance, His mission for the angels. As such, we encourage our dear angelic counterparts to continue to conduct themselves as they did under His supervision, though they have been de facto released from their posts.]

  “Yep," the angel deadpanned. But Lucifer didn’t pay it any attention, he flipped through the pages, scouring for a Revision 1.2 while it relished in his panic. “Read it and weep.”

  “W-well,” Lucifer floundered. “What about the Honor Code! Aren’t you bound by your oath to—”

  “Next page.”

  [Version 1.1.2

  Please note the following time-sensitive update, as dictated by the Office of the Head Assistant Manager’s Acting Administrator-In-Training-By-Proxy:

  It has become apparent that the angels’ Honor Code is also out of our purview. As such, we plead with our dear angelic counterparts to please conduct themselves with just a fraction of the goodwill which they did under His supervision, though they have been de facto released from their posts.]

  “See? We don’t owe you humans anything anymore.”

  Lucifer blew out a frustrated breath. “Be that as it may, angel—”

  “Honey.” Lucifer paused, ready to turn that HR joke back on the angel.

  But it continued, “My name is Honey.”

  “Well, Mister Honey, you must understand. I don’t intend to ask for much.” Honey blew a harsh breath from its nose.

  “Miss, human.”

  “Miss Honey, pardon me. But as I was saying, I solemnly swear that I have one very simple ask.” Lucifer raised his right hand to God and rested his left on the Handbook. “It won’t cost more than a few moments of your time.”

  Honey’s eyes had a glaze over them as she silently egged him on. It was an intense but unreadable look that Lucifer hoped would lend itself to his favor.

  “I humbly request that you to direct me to The Bugaboo Bay’s Eternal Affairs office. I don’t require a compass, written directions, or accompaniment—”

  “Eternal Aff—Pfft.” She couldn’t even get the word out, choking on her own saliva as tears formed in her eyes. Lucifer’s face deflated. “Ah, man. I needed that laugh. Eternal Affairs? You really think The Bugaboo Bay has an Eternal Affairs office?”

  Yes?

  “Oh, you sweet, sweet summer’s child.” She took a long, pitying look at Lucifer before standing up from the table. Honey crossed over into the kitchen, sat down at the head of the table, and began gnawing at her old chicken bones.

  Lucifer joined her, but when she nodded toward her feast, sprawled along the table, glittering and glistening like the food he prepared in The Big House, he politely declined.

  “The closest thing you’ll get to Eternal Affairs down here is The Help Desk. I’d be lying if I said the staffers are helpful, but I can help you get there… for the right price, of course.”

  A Help Desk, huh? He watched Honey continue her meal while he chewed the idea over. The service quality must be horrendous if an insolent angel like this resents it… But a beggar can’t be choosy.

  “This Help Desk you speak of,” Lucifer said, resigned to his decision. “It’ll have to do, given the circumstances.” He peered through the windows of the cabin, but saw nothing but blackness and tree trunks surrounding them. “Is it nearby?”

  Honey nibbled on the bone thoughtfully before setting it down. “No offense but, did you just die yesterday?”

  Mentally and emotionally, yes, but. “No. I perished many moons ago.”

  Honey nodded slowly, picking up a new bone, but still kept her eyes on Lucifer. The silence that settled between them was unbearable. And the blank look on the angel’s face made it worse. So Lucifer added, “Though, I did fall into Lower Heaven fairly recently.”

  But Honey still didn’t answer. A long moment passed before she edged the plate of bones away and extended her palm to Lucifer.

  Lucifer blinked at it.

  “Your OS.”

  My O...S? Lucifer ran through his mental Rolodex of all of the things the newer generation felt the need to abbreviate. He’d heard of SMS, SOS, PMS, and GPS...

  “You’ll have to pardon me, angel, but I’m not very technologically savvy. I don’t own an OS device.”

  It was Honey’s turn to blink now. Then, the impossibly wide edges of her smile stretched further, touching her ears.

  “…You don’t say.”

  And, with a bit too much pep in her step, Honey leapt up from her seat, exited the kitchen and disappeared down the dark hall. Lucifer was left alone with his racing thoughts for a minute, while the sounds of items falling and curses being flung came from around the corner. When Honey returned, it was with a small, clear, handheld device and a new robe, though it wasn't half as plush as the previous one.

  “Name?”

  Lucifer’s breath got caught in his throat as Honey’s fingers wheeled over the device, ready to punch them in.

  But, quickly recovering, he said, “Johnn von Wigglestein.”

  She started typing then paused. “Spell that?”

  Oh no.

  “Ah, of course. J-O-N V-O-N W-I-G-G-L-E-S-T… I-E-N.” Honey waited very impatiently as Lucifer tried to conjure up the image of that ID card 60th had held up to his face just the day before.

  “Alright. Now we’ve gotta give it a second to load.”

  Beep, beep, beep. Brrp.

  Honey sucked her teeth. “Geez. Alright, Jon, you’re gonna have to give it to me again. I think I might’ve pressed the wrong letter. Got sauce on my fingers still.” Honey took great care to wipe her fingers off before giving Lucifer the okay.

  “It’s J-O-H-N V-O-N W-I-G-G-L-E-S-T-I-E-N.”

  Honey nodded along to each letter, and even repeated it aloud for verification.

  Beep, beep, beep. Brrp.

  “Huh.”

  Honey tapped at the screen a bit. She blinked at the screen, then at Lucifer. Impatience twitched in her eyes as she blurted, “Who can’t spell their own—” But then, she thought twice. “You know what, no worries. Let’s just use your Soul ID.”

  “Okay. It’s 666.”

  Honey keyed in the numbers, then waited. Then finally, she urged Lucifer on. “I’ve got the first three, keep going.”

  And.

  Oh.

  Lucifer gulped. “…That’s it. My Soul ID number is 666.”

  An unreadable look crossed Honey’s face. As if on cue, the trees began to shift outside of the window, creating something that sounded too much like a whisper for Lucifer’s comfort. Even Honey turned to the windows for a moment, pausing to listen for a second too long.

  Then she shook her head and hit one final button.

  Beep, beep, beep. Boop!

  “Finally,” she muttered to herself. After a few more moments of finagling, Honey passed the device over to Lucifer, triggering a New Item notification.

  [New ??? Item!

  ★★★★★

  Ordered Steps

  Your (im)mor(t)al compass.]

  Lucifer tapped the OS screen awake and found the main screen.

  [HP: -816.9

  HEALTH: N/A

  New Task!

  Objective: ???

  Reward: ???

  Do you accept?

  YES | YES]

  “Ah, Honey?” Lucifer asked. Honey just hummed back at him, rifling through the bones for a little more meat. “There seems to be some sort of error on this device. My HP is incorrect and I can't see any of the task's information.”

  “Really? Bummer.” She said flatly, hunting for a bone with a little fat left on it. “You can just accept it. The task, I mean. I put it in there myself.”

  The trees began rustling again, louder this time. Grumbling to herself, Honey stalked over and slammed it shut. Before she returned to Lucifer, she shot a pointed look out into the night.

  Lucifer hesitated over the button, watching Honey carefully. “For clarity’s sake, Honey, is this Ordered Steps device going to show me how to reach The Help Desk?”

  Honey nodded vigorously... suspiciously. But against his better judgment, Lucifer accepted.

  Immediately, something like a hologram jutted out from the device in the form of footsteps. One by one, they slowly laid out in front of one another, quite literally ordering Lucifer’s next steps. He watched in amazement as they spilled out through the front door and into the night.

  “Wow,” he breathed. “And that’s going to lead me there?”

  He turned back to Honey, whose expression soured back to that hardened, calculating look she’d given him from atop the notification screen.

  Before she could speak, there was a rough jostling of the leaves just outside of Honey’s treehouse, so harsh that it sounded intentional. The two turned in time to see a shadow scurry off, chased by what Lucifer could have sworn was that mysterious purple mist.

  “Not quite.”

  Lucifer's face dropped.

  “Liar!” He declared. “You just said—”

  “Two things can be true at once, human. And by the way, you're welcome.” With an air of finality, Honey stood up from the table and tightened her robe around herself. “Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go have my evening shower.” She floated past Lucifer and out into the hall before he could say, 'Thank you.'

  But she paused in the doorway. “Hey,” she called sharply. "Be careful out there. I don't know if you've noticed yet, but somebody's waiting for you out there.”