If I may play the me's advocate for a moment...

Time worked differently in Hell.

Perhaps it was a part of the torture. Perhaps the torture itself simply slowed the sense of time for Hell's denizens, and it was the lonely angel perching on its infernal throne high above who dictated, however subconsciously, the ticking of each second.

But it... changed things, shifted them out of step; barely a month had passed on Lucifer's Earth, and barely a few weeks on Fandom. Down here, though, a thousand years dragged by, with nothing to tell time but the rhythm of each morning's daily drip of fresh sinners pouring into their cells.

The docket was its own creature. Sometimes it hewed closer to the flow of regular time. But every so often, it diverged. And ever so rarely, a once-in-a-few-centuries affair, something drifted to the surface that wasn't supposed to be here yet, or should have been here ages ago.

Lucifer kept an eye out for those, these days. And for good reason.

He moved gracefully between the vulcanic pillars of the hallway, ignoring the ash that wafted down from the skies. His expression, for as much as he showed anything, was tense. Not that it mattered: it was Hell. There was no one here to see it, let alone pay attention.

There were no chains on the door. That said nothing.

"Well, let's see, then," he said.

The door swung open.

( The throne room was quiet in an unnatural way... )

[[ nfb and nfi due to, well, hell. pre-written with the incredible okteiviakom! ]]