About thirty minutes later...
John set the last plate down without saying anything. Fresh pizza, pasta, garlic bread. Simple food, made the same way he always had. He placed a few soda bottles in the middle, then pulled out a chair and sat with them like this was just another night.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Koriand'r looked at the food, then at him, her expression unreadable but clearly skeptical. "Is this how you plan to defeat the evil?" she asked, her tone serious enough that she clearly wasn't joking.
John leaned back slightly in his chair, resting one arm against the table. "That kind of mentality is going to get you killed one day," he said calmly. "You're thinking like it's a straight fight. It's not. You rush something like this, you play right into his hands."
Koriand'r didn't respond right away, though her eyes stayed locked on him.
John reached forward and grabbed a slice of pizza. "We deal with something like Trigon with patience," he continued. "Control matters more than power in this situation. You lose control, you lose everything that comes after."
He took a bite, then gestured lightly toward the food. "Eat. You're going to need it."
Harley didn't wait for permission. She had already grabbed two slices and leaned back in her chair like this was dinner and a show. "Oh, I like this plan already. Step one, carbs. Step two, kick the demon's arse."
Maureen quietly took a slice, still watching Rachel more than anything else. Rachel hesitated for a second before finally reaching for the food too. She grabbed a pizza slice and took a bite. 'Wow! This is... so good.'
Koriand'r looked at the table again, then at John, before finally sitting down properly. She didn't touch the food yet.
John wiped his fingers with a napkin, then looked directly at Rachel.
"First thing," he said. "You need control over your power and your soul."
Rachel stiffened slightly.
"Right now, your father's influence is bleeding into everything," John continued, his tone steady. "Your power, your thoughts, even the way you react to things. Those whispers you hear, the ones offering you deals or promising control, that's him reaching through. He'll put you in many difficult situations and then manipulate you to use that dark power. I'm pretty sure you've already faced such situations."
Rachel nodded as she took another bite. 'How does he know so much about my father that I don't even know?' She thought.
"You need to cut those voices out and never give in, regardless of the situation," John said as he raised one finger.
A faint flicker of divine lightning sparked above it.
"My divine magic can help with that," he added. "It's like a bane to evil forces and darkness. Even though I can't fight Trigon directly, I can block his influence long enough for you to stabilize and actually learn how to use your power without him interfering every few seconds."
Rachel looked at the lightning, then back at him, something like cautious hope mixing with uncertainty. "And that's enough?" she asked quietly.
"It's a start," John replied. "You still have to do the work yourself. And it's not gonna be easy. So, prepare yourself."
She nodded slowly, taking that in.
John leaned back slightly again. "Second thing. We're not doing this alone."
That got Koriand'r's attention immediately.
"We need allies," John continued. "People who can actually stand in that kind of fight and not fold in the first few seconds. And we need a weapon. Something that can hurt him if things go sideways."
Harley raised a brow as she chewed. "You're telling me we need a backup plan for your backup plan?"
John glanced at her. "Yep. There's no second chance if this goes wrong."
That shut her up for a second.
Rachel looked up again. "Do you know where to find something like that?" she asked.
John nodded once.
"Yeah," he said simply. "There's someone who already has it."
Koriand'r leaned forward slightly now, finally engaged. "Someone who can face Trigon?"
John's eyes narrowed just a bit, not in doubt, but in thought.
"Not just face him," he said. "This person can banish him from this realm permanently."
He paused for a second.
"Or kill him, depending on how things go."
Silence settled over the table again, heavier this time.
Even Harley stopped mid-bite. She looked at John's face for a moment before asking, "Is he stronger than you?"
John chuckled a bit as he popped open a soda and took a sip. "Haaa... Oh yeah. He's just too OP. Even if we all rushed him together, he'll win without lifting a finger and probably erase us out of existence."
Everyone looked stunned...
There was a moment of silence.
The kind of silence that creeps in slowly, threading itself between half-finished bites, the soft scrape of a plate, the faint hum of the refrigerator behind the counter. The smell of melted cheese and toasted bread still hung thick in the air, but it didn't feel warm anymore. It just… lingered.
Harley was the first to stop moving.
Her hand hovered halfway to her mouth, pizza slice forgotten between her fingers. The usual spark in her eyes dimmed, not gone, but pulled inward as she stared at John like she was trying to catch the moment he'd start joking.
He didn't.
Across from her, Maureen shifted in her chair, the legs giving a soft scrape against the tiled floor. She hadn't taken another bite. Her attention had locked onto John the second his tone changed earlier, and it hadn't left him since. Her fingers curled slightly against the edge of the table, cold gathering unconsciously at her fingertips before fading again.
"Okay…" she said, slower than usual, like she was testing each word before letting it out. "Who is he?"
John didn't answer right away.
He leaned back just slightly as he casually took another sip, like this was just another conversation, and the weight sitting over the table didn't exist.
Then he set the can down.
The soft clink echoed more than it should have.
"Lucifer Morningstar."
Rachel's reaction was immediate. Her posture shifted forward, subtle but sharp, like something in her had snapped to attention. Her brows pulled together, not in fear, but in disbelief that hadn't decided what shape it wanted to take yet.
"You mean…" she started, her voice quieter now, cautious. "The devil? Ruler of Hell? King of the underworld?"
John met her gaze without blinking.
"Exactly."
The word didn't echo, but it might as well have.
Maureen leaned back slightly, the tension in her shoulders becoming visible now. She let out a small breath through her nose, eyes flicking between the others like she was trying to gauge if anyone else thought this was insane.
"You're serious," she muttered, almost under her breath. "Isn't Lucifer just a myth?"
"Nope. He's real and here on Earth, alright," John said.
"You intend for us to seek aid from a being of that magnitude," Koriand'r said slowly, each word measured. "A ruler of a realm built on corruption and suffering."
John gave a small nod, like that description didn't bother him at all. "He isn't exactly a bad guy. Just a misunderstood guy who never wanted the job of tormenting souls for eternity. You'll see..."
Harley finally moved again.
She leaned back in her chair, letting the slice fall back onto her plate as she dragged a hand down her face. A quiet, breathy laugh slipped out, but there was no humor behind it.
"Okay… wow," she said, glancing from John to Rachel, then to Maureen, like she was trying to find someone who would tell her this was a bad joke. "So we went from spooky cult vibes and demon daddy problems…"
She gestured vaguely in the air.
"…to actually calling up the King of Hell."
John didn't correct her.
"Pretty much."
Harley stared at him for another second, then dropped her hand, fingers tapping restlessly against the table now. The rhythm was uneven, and she looked nervous.
"Great," she muttered. "Love that for us."
"If he's what you're saying…" Rachel said slowly, choosing her words carefully, "Why would he help us at all?"
John shifted slightly, his elbow resting against the table as he leaned just a fraction closer. He said, "Well, it's not exactly help but more of a favor. It could be for free, considering the situation, or he might want something from us. Whichever it is, we'll know once we meet him."
Harley exhaled slowly, leaning back further this time until her chair balanced briefly on two legs before dropping back down with a soft thud. She stared up at the ceiling for a second, then back at John.
"So what's the move?" she asked. "We just show up and knock?"
John shrugged, saying, "More like show up at his nightclub and order some drinks. He'll find us." He stretched his arms a bit before picking up a garlic breadstick. "Eat up tonight because if things go wrong, this might be our last meal."
--
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