“Indifference, Father… ?” Lucifer couldn’t help the forlorn tone in his voice. “If it were Michael standing before you… if it were Michael whose voice came to lift your spirits… would you have him at his word… .?” His voice cracked like a thunderclap.  “Would. . . it then be good enough for you …? It always was.”

There was a sigh of resignation in his voice. Inward collapse, like a star in it’s death throes.

“I preferred your wrath. At least you were stirred to care for the things that you had made. To lift a hand to defend what you say you treasured. Instead you leave these feelings to me, while you dismiss us all.”

There was a long moments pause before he added, in softer tone. “I shall care for what is left. As long as we desire to endure. With or without your blessing.”