Boring. I Just Want to See Rivers of Blood

"Me? The Messiah?" Roland froze. "You must be joking. I wasn't born on the winter solstice, and neither of my parents is the Green."

"This prophecy doesn't really have anything to do with the Messiah. Those fellows in Hell just choose to believe it," Lucifer said. "And if a real Messiah had actually appeared long ago, wouldn't that make things interesting?"

"But the problem is, I'm not the real Messiah either," Roland said.

"Who am I?" Lucifer said. "The Son of God, the Morning Star, the Lightbringer, the King of Hell. If I say you're the Messiah, who's going to doubt me?"

He just said he'd cut ties with God, and now he's calling himself the Son of God again, Roland grumbled inwardly.

"Wait, if those demons in Hell find out I'm some Messiah, won't they mince me into tiny pieces?" Realizing something, Roland spoke with growing alarm.

"Yes." Lucifer nodded. "But none of the Three Kings of Hell can come to the mortal world, and I've spoken to Dream Demon, so his faction won't go after you either. That leaves very few demons capable of killing you—and I'm leaving you three lifesaving feathers."

"Are you sending me on a pilgrimage to fetch scriptures?"

"Once you use one, it's gone." Lucifer stuck three snow-white feathers into Roland's shoulder blade, a trace of nostalgia flashing through his eyes. "Back then, I was still called Samael..."

"What do these lifesaving feathers do?" Roland asked.

"If you're in danger, you can pull one out. If I have time, I'll come save you," Lucifer explained.

"And if you don't have time?"

"Then I'll come resurrect you." Lucifer spread his hands. "Assuming I haven't forgotten about it."

"That sounds pretty unreliable..." Roland swallowed. "How about finding someone harder to kill? I'd recommend Constantine."

"Don't rush.