I'm The Devil - Chapter 268

Chapter 268: Going To Eygpt

Lucifer moved through the void between realms, his dark cloak trailing behind him like the shadow of a storm. The God Plane awaited him, its familiar presence calling out like an ancient echo. But as he continued his journey, something made him pause. A familiar aura—an unmistakable, divine presence—reached him from a distant corner of existence. His black eyes narrowed, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his lips.

He turned his head slightly, gazing in the direction of the faint yet unmistakable aura. It was his Father. The weight of that realization settled over him, and for a brief moment, a glint of nostalgia flickered in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Curiosity bloomed within him, tugging at the edges of his mind.

Without wasting another second, Lucifer disappeared in a flash, the air rippling in his wake as he teleported to the source of the divine energy.

When he arrived, his feet touched down softly on the dusty ground of a barren hillside. The smell of charred earth and a dry desert breeze filled the air. Before him, just as he expected, a man stood, his back turned toward Lucifer. The man’s posture was rigid, his shoulders tense, one hand gripping a staff while his gaze was fixed ahead.

Lucifer’s eyes flickered to the center of the scene—the burning bush. Flames licked at its branches, flickering and glowing with a divine fire that did not consume. And though the man before it had not yet spoken, Lucifer knew exactly who this mortal was.

“Moses,” he whispered to himself with a dark chuckle, his voice barely a murmur as it danced through the air like a serpent.

Lucifer stepped forward silently, the weight of his presence masked as he decided to remain unseen. His long, dark cloak swept across the ground, leaving no trace of his steps, as he positioned himself a few paces behind, his eyes glowing with intrigue. The man had no idea that Lucifer Morningstar was watching him, nor did he know the full scale of the encounter he was about to experience.

Leaning casually against a nearby boulder, Lucifer crossed his arms over his chest, his black eyes gleaming with amusement. His lips curved into a grin—sharp, predatory. There was always something darkly entertaining about mortals in the presence of divinity. Their trembling faith, their awe, their hesitation—it was a dance Lucifer knew all too well.

He watched as Moses shifted his weight nervously, his fingers gripping the staff as though it were his only lifeline. The man’s breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling more visibly as he took in the sight of the bush, knowing in his soul that this was no ordinary fire.

Lucifer’s smirk deepened as he leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on the unfolding scene. He could already feel the weight of his Father’s presence descending upon the mortal. He could sense the power in the air, thick and palpable, like a thunderstorm about to break.

“This should be interesting,” Lucifer muttered, his voice low and smooth as silk. There was a hint of amusement in his tone, but also a sliver of something darker. He had come here not just out of curiosity—but to observe how mortals cowered, even in the presence of a God who claimed to love them.

Lucifer’s eyes flickered again, this time with a hint of bitterness buried beneath his amusement. He watched Moses, still rigid, still unsure, his every move betraying the weight of his thoughts.

The fire crackled louder, and Lucifer could feel the moment approaching. The heavens were stirring, and soon, the voice of God would thunder down from within the flames. Moses would tremble, and the weight of destiny would fall heavy upon his shoulders.

Lucifer’s grin faded into something more thoughtful, his black eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He had rebelled against this very will that Moses now stood before. But now, he found himself watching from the shadows, the very same fire reflecting in his own dark gaze.

“Go on, Moses,” Lucifer whispered mockingly to the man, though Moses would never hear him. “Let’s see how you handle the divine weight of the Almighty.”

A few days later, Moses stood outside his humble home, the sun casting a golden glow over the dusty horizon. His fingers gently traced the worn surface of his staff, the weight of it now heavier with purpose. Next to him stood his wife, Zipporah, her dark eyes searching his face for any sign of hesitation. Beside them, their two sons, Gershom and Eliezer, played near the edge of the path, unaware of the gravity of the journey they were about to undertake.

Zipporah adjusted the shawl around her shoulders, her gaze lingering on her husband’s face. There was a calm strength in Moses, but also something else—a quiet determination that hadn’t been there before. She had seen the changes in him since his encounter with the burning bush, a newfound fire in his spirit, one that both reassured and unsettled her.

“Moses,” Zipporah began softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached out and touched his arm, “are you certain this is the path you must take? Egypt is… dangerous. We are safe here.”

Moses turned to face her, his eyes softening as he met her worried gaze. There was a moment of silence between them, filled only by the soft breeze that stirred the dust at their feet. He placed his hand over hers, squeezing gently. His face, lined with the years he had spent as a shepherd, now carried a deeper weight—one of a man who had been given a divine calling.

“I have to,” he said quietly, his voice firm but tender. “The Lord has spoken, Zipporah. His will is clear. I must return to Egypt.”

Zipporah’s lips pressed together in a thin line as she searched his face, looking for any hint of doubt. But Moses held her gaze, steady and unwavering, and she knew then that there was no turning back. She could see it in his eyes—the burden of destiny had already settled upon his shoulders.

Her hand trembled slightly as she drew it away, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his robe. “Then we go with you,” she said, her voice more resolute now. “We will not let you face this alone.”

Moses smiled faintly, gratitude shining in his eyes. He reached down and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin. “I knew you’d say that,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection. “But it won’t be easy, Zipporah. There will be danger. Pharaoh won’t welcome us.”

Zipporah straightened her posture, her chin lifting slightly in defiance. “We’ve faced hardships before, Moses. I am not afraid.”

Moses nodded, his heart swelling with pride at the strength of the woman beside him. He glanced over at their sons, Gershom and Eliezer, who had stopped playing and were now watching their parents with curious eyes.

Gershom, the eldest, furrowed his brow and stepped closer. “Are we leaving, Father?” he asked, his voice serious for a boy of his age.

Moses crouched down to meet his son’s gaze, the edges of his robe gathering dust as he did. He placed a hand on Gershom’s shoulder, his expression softening. “Yes, my son. We are going to Egypt.”

Eliezer, the younger of the two, clung to his mother’s leg, his wide eyes full of questions but no words. Zipporah rested a comforting hand on his head, her fingers gently smoothing his hair.

“But why Egypt?” Gershom pressed, his brow still furrowed in confusion.

Moses smiled gently at his son’s question, sensing the innocence behind it. “There are people there who need help, Gershom,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “The Lord has asked me to go and free them from Pharaoh. It’s important. We’re doing the right thing.”

Gershom nodded, though the worry in his young eyes didn’t fully disappear. He turned and glanced up at his mother, seeking her reassurance as well. Zipporah offered him a small, encouraging smile, though the concern in her own eyes mirrored his.

Moses stood again, his hand still resting on Gershom’s shoulder as he looked out at the path ahead of them. The road to Egypt was long, and he knew it would be fraught with challenges, both seen and unseen. But his resolve was firm, his faith in the Lord’s plan unwavering.

“We’ll leave at dawn,” Moses said quietly, his voice carrying a note of finality. He turned back to his family, his gaze sweeping over them with love and determination. “Together.”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the land, Moses took one last look at his home—the place where he had lived in peace for so many years. And though a part of him ached at the thought of leaving, he knew deep in his soul that his path now led elsewhere. Toward a destiny that had been set in motion long before he had ever realized.

With Zipporah by his side and his sons close at hand, Moses took a deep breath, preparing himself for the journey ahead.