Pacing, the Morning Star roared his impatience to Heaven.

Soon, soon he would have his vengeance.

And, as long foretold, the blood of billions would pay for the millennia of his imprisonment.

His family's hatred, rejection and betrayal - his unwarranted expulsion from Heaven - the hairless apes would pay for all of it, in full.

If his Father didn't like it, he could just resurrect the whiny, puling things. Then he would have the pleasure of killing them all over again!

A soft anticipatory growl spilled out of him.

And then, when he was done with the apes, he would start on Heaven.

The scent of the boy came to him again and he drew in a deep breath, reveling in the strength and youth of his young King.

This boy, though tainted with demon blood, was innocent. Soon that innocence would be his. His essence would join with that strong young body.

He would be free to do whatever he wanted, with it and to it. With that thought, long dormant memories - a tortuous, longing ache, a bitter thirst for things long forgotten - burned through him. His hatred flared anew.

If you thought I was evil before, Father, that is nothing compared to the havoc I will wreak upon your precious children now!

Around him, Hell shifted on its axis. He felt Lilith die. Felt the triumph of his follower and the confused agony of his King. A scream of mad triumph rose within him and shattered the walls of his prison.

"It is time!"