"And what is else not to be overcome?" he finishes, as great wings burst forth.

One beat, another, and feathered pinions arch and curve forward in curtains of power, enfolding Andrew amid impossibly shining brilliance.

"Since through experience of this great event," Lucifer murmurs, his voice a soft susurrus in Andrew's ear, the sound and his touch the only stable things left in the world around him at this moment, "we may with more successful hope resolve ..."

A single breath's pause.

"Andrew Wells. Accept that this is what you are meant to do. It always has been. You have been marked for impossible greatness."

He smiles, radiant and glorious.

"Fear not."