Lucifer stands, calm and outwardly unassuming, a few feet behind Rush. He looks like any other middle-aged, moderately attractive man who might have cared to visit the park, dressed in dad jeans and a plain t-shirt and flannel. He probably doesn't look at all like someone who's not-so-secretly Literally Satan, but you know what they say about appearances.

"Hello," he says. "Nicholas, wasn't it?"