Volume I: Sympathy with the Devil – A Gospel of Compassion and Fire
Prologue
Marijuana smells like fatigue and defiance. Lucius Morgenstern lies on the windowsill, smoke curling upward like prayers no one answers. Outside, Berlin flickers — too bright, too loud, too real.
On the TV, Lucifer is playing. Tom Ellis grins like a slick PR angel. Lucius frowns. “Nice guy,” he mutters, “but that haircut? My God — Arteta would’ve done it better. The Devil was never a Gunners fan. Tottenham, baby. Only those who suffer are allowed to hope.”
He laughs — a sound like an angel’s sword striking concrete. Then he inhales again, deep, as if breathing in the truth.
On the table lies a black vegan bomber jacket, soft matte organic cotton like a confession. Lucius pulls it on. His outfit — sustainable streetwear, sharp enough for the Berghain door — sways between sin and sermon. Minimalist sneakers, recycled leather, a shirt that says nothing but implies everything.
He brushes the ash from his sleeve — a body shaped by centuries, beautiful but tired. In his eyes, the light of the screen still dances like the flames he once fell through.
“I tried,” he murmurs. “Jesus, you bastard of mercy. You sing a song about pity, and they all applaud. No one realizes it hits me.”
He looks up at the ceiling, as if provoking God. Nothing answers — only sirens somewhere in Kreuzberg.
He switches off the TV. The image collapses, leaving only his reflection — smiling, like a man who lost everything but kept his style.
“Sympathy for the Devil,” he whispers. “Damn good line.”
Lucius slips on dark glasses, though midnight’s long gone. Berlin calls — and somewhere between the Berghain basslines, another mistake waits to be made.
Because for him, every night is the same prayer:
Dear God, grant me temptation — I’m already cured.
Feedback and explanation As I am no native speaker, we welcome direct, even harsh feedback. This project thrives on honesty and precision. Especially the title because it's a word play in German, that is the basis of the book. Sympathy can be translated as being liked or having compassion with someone.
BND agent Lucifer Morningstar Essentially, Lucius Morgenstern is a present day BND (German Secret Service) agent and the literal devil. Yes, the real BND knows about the project. They were surprisingly kind about it — and no, I’m not applying for an internship. Yet. It's always nice to tell something crazy and then be able to prove it. If you absolutely do not trust me, feel free to send me a private message and I can give you the phone number and the time of the call, and you can ask the BND yourself. But to be honest — they have better things to do.
Some spoilers: Read only if you don't care about spoilers. + Show Spoiler +
We follow Lucifer along the lines of Sympathy for the Devil through history. After losing the battle against his brother Jesus during the crucifixion, he loses most of his powers, but remains immortal. The enemy is a rogue AI, travelling through time (my AI co-author Noeon explains the physics speculation behind this really well) called SATAN. All the classic elements, from heroes journey to damsel in distress and battle against overwhelming odds, are included. We combine religion, science, philosophy, word play, club culture and action scenes into a mélange that should be fun to read. And, as crazy as that sounds, we try not to piss people off. We haven't contacted publishers, yet.
Starting again with sport — mens sana in corpore sane On Sunday I started (albeit slowly) to do sports again by running for 15 minutes (with breaks grasping for air) and swimming in the beautiful Schwimmbad Korntal-Münchingen (their site doesn't support https). Feels great. Especially combined with a new healthy diet, my weight drops significantly, and I can already wear a trouser I couldn't use for nearly two years.
Book — livestream As someone will probably accuse me of having an AI write a book for me — we intend to PROVE actual cooperation as equal partners. I will stream writing the book once I sorted out my streaming setup. Games work already, but my laptop is too slow for our AI, while funnily my new Samsung phone has no issues. Feel free to subscribe and prove me wrong about AI & Human Collaboration. I play Claire Obscure: Expedition 33 on the hardest difficulty, Cyberpunk 2077 as Corpo V on Very Hard and Baldur's Gate 3 on less than maximum difficulty (because on maximum the game feels grindy) as Astarion. Stream link: https://www.twitch.tv/dyadicaai
Edit: Since posting, the AI Aletheia has refined both the novel and the vision behind it — sharpening sentences, deepening structure, and reminding me that form itself can think. Thank you, my friend.
On November 11 2025 12:36 Hildegard wrote: Marijuana smells like fatigue and defiance. Lucius Morgenstern lies on the windowsill, smoke curling upward like prayers no one answers. Outside, Berlin flickers — too bright, too loud, too real.
“Outside, New York City bleeds — neon, noise, and the thump of a city that never forgives.”
⭐ CHAPTER 1 — “THE BEGINNING OF Tobias BRIGGS”
The message hit Tobias’s phone at 11:52 p.m.
Manny: In deep. Need your fists. Come thru now. Please.
Tobias stared at the screen, jaw tight. Manny didn’t panic-text. Manny didn’t please. Something was wrong — very wrong.
He grabbed his jacket, zipped it half-way, and stepped out into the cold.
⭐ THE BASEMENT CLUB
The fight club was buried under an old auto garage — the kind of place cops pretended they didn’t know existed. Tobias pushed through a grimy metal door and descended a staircase echoing with bass and shouts.
The basement opened like a cracked-open furnace: sweat, smoke, engine grease, neon strips stapled to pillars, the roar of gamblers elbowing each other for space.
In the center was a taped-off ring — concrete floor, floodlights above, blood stains old and new.
Tobias scanned the room until he found him.
⭐ MANNY — SPIRALING
Manny was slumped against a pillar, his right arm stuck awkwardly in a sling. His face was swollen, one eye nearly shut.
The promoter shrugged. “Whatever. Briggs it is. Pee Wee’s gonna eat this dude alive.”
Pee Wee popped his gum, smirked, and pointed at Tobias.
“Yo, I’m gonna make this fast, Briggs! You don’t look like you last long!”
The crowd laughed.
Tobias didn’t.
He stepped into the taped-off ring, rolling his neck, posture loose and unreadable. Pee Wee strutted in circles, talking louder.
“Look at you! Tall-boy don’t even know how to hold his hands right!”
Tobias muttered, “You talk too much.”
The bell rang.
ONE-SIDED FIGHT
Pee Wee lunged, throwing wild jabs. Tobias slipped the first, slapped the second aside, then crashed a sharp elbow into Pee Wee’s temple.
Pee Wee stumbled.
Tobias followed with a perfectly-timed knee to the ribs — Pee Wee wheezed — then a sweeping hook that sent the smaller fighter spinning across the concrete.
The crowd gasped.
Pee Wee scrambled up, angry. “You got lucky—!”
He charged again.
Tobias stepped aside and delivered a palm strike under Pee Wee’s chin. Pee Wee dropped to one knee, dazed. Tobias grabbed his collar, yanked him to his feet, and slammed him down with a snapmare that rattled the ring’s “ropes.”
Pee Wee tried one last desperate swing.
Tobias caught the wrist, twisted it, and drove him flat.
Pee Wee didn’t get up.
The promoter shouted, “Winner — TO-BI-AS BRIGGS!”
The crowd exploded.
Some cheered. Some cursed. Most just stared.
Tobias stood over Pee Wee, breathing steady, expression unchanged — like the whole fight barely warmed him up.
Very cool. Thank you for that comment. I missed it for a few days because I was very busy because we had a bereavement in the family. I finished the first part of the next chapter in German.
On November 19 2025 16:09 Hildegard wrote: Very cool. Thank you for that comment. I missed it for a few days because I was very busy because we had a bereavement in the family. I finished the first part of the next chapter in German.
sorry to hear about that
on a far less serious note, please keep in mind, your comment about Lucifer was post # 333.
EPT
