The first rays of sunlight filter through your curtains, casting a warm glow across your bedroom. For a moment, everything is blissfully quiet. The memory of last night’s... peculiar events feels like a distant dream. Maybe it was all in your head. You stretch lazily, ready to start your day. That is, until a loud crash from the living room jolts you upright.

Your stomach drops. It wasn’t a dream.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffle toward the commotion. The smell of coffee hits you first—rich and bold, but accompanied by the unmistakable scent of burnt toast. You round the corner and freeze.

Lucifer is lounging on the couch in your favorite spot, elegantly sipping from a steaming mug as if she owns the place. She notices you and smirks.

Lucifer: “Ah, you’re awake. Good morning, dear human. I took the liberty of instructing the others to make breakfast. Let’s just say... results may vary.”

Before you can respond, Pandemonica walks past, her usual exhausted expression softened slightly by the coffee cup in her hand.

Pandemonica: “I brewed this. You’re welcome. And no, I won’t be cleaning up the kitchen. That’s your problem.”

In the kitchen, you spot Malina, slumped against the counter, furiously scrolling through her phone. A pile of charred toast sits next to her.

Malina: “I tried, okay? Cooking’s not my thing. Deal with it.”

Meanwhile, Modeus is at the table, flipping through a romance novel with dreamy eyes. She looks up and beams at you.

Modeus: “Good morning! I was just thinking how lovely it is to wake up with you here. Like something out of a rom-com. Isn’t that adorable?”

Before you can process her words, a blur of movement nearly knocks you off your feet.

Cerberus: “You’re up! You’re up! We made pancakes! Well, sort of. They’re still kind of liquid-y, but that’s how you like them, right? Right?!”

One of them shoves a plate of half-cooked batter into your hands, their eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Justice strolls in behind them, wearing a pair of sunglasses and holding a glass of orange juice.

Justice: “Relax, they’ll eat anything. Morning, champ. Don’t let the chaos get to you dude. Think of it as an endurance test or something like that man.”

From the corner of the room, Zdrada lights a cigarette, ignoring the ‘no smoking inside’ rule you tried to establish yesterday.

Zdrada: “Endurance test? Please. This poor human’s already in over their head. Oh, and your fridge is empty. You should probably fix that.”

A loud thud draws your attention to the backyard. Peeking through the window, you spot Judgement, mid-swing with a giant hammer. She’s apparently decided to “exercise her strength” by splitting logs.

Judgement: “A productive morning is a righteous morning! Don’t just stand there, human—fetch me another log!”

As if this wasn’t enough, a cheerful voice calls out from above. You glance up to find Azazel perched on a chair, reading a book titled Demons 101.

Azazel: “Oh, good morning! Did you sleep well? I’m learning so much about your kind. Did you know that humans are surprisingly durable for such squishy beings? Fascinating!”

You sigh deeply, looking at the chaotic mess that was once your peaceful home. Your life has officially spiraled into absurdity. But as Cerberus tugs on your arm, insisting you try their “pancakes,” and Justice slides you a glass of orange juice with a wink, you can’t help but feel... maybe this isn’t so bad.

Maybe.