The Faustians have observed the power of human faith and have concluded that, even trapped in an unfaceted singular world, the Children of Adam have power that is of the same nature as God's. Admittedly, their degree of power is miniscule, but every child born caries a spark of holy fire. Gather enough sparks together, and the fire could one day eclipse the sun.

Faustians find the general state of humankind greatly reduced since Edenic times — like grouchy grandparents, they are convinced that people today are weaker, stupider, sillier, less reasonable, less respectful… just generally devolved from the times they recall. But at the same time, humankind's aggregate ability to define reality around them is, if anything, stronger than it was when they numbered in millions instead of billions. Yet humans are using most of their strength to repress themselves! Their greatest faith is placed in proof — the one thing that doesn't need faith to be true. Consequently, even as their grasp on the world gets stronger, that very grasp constricts and constrains reality into ever tighter ever narrower instances. It's possible that if they continue on this course, faith may define itself right out of existence leaving behind a cold world of absolute, mechanical certainty.

While such a world has no place for God, it also lacks a niche for demons, and is therefore intolerable to the Faustians.

Humanity, as found in the fallen world, is a bonfire smoldering out of control, rapidly using up the obvious sources of fuel and in danger of guttering out. The Faustian philosophy is based on harnessing and husbanding this power — controlling the burn, renewing the fuel and building the engines that can focus humanity's divine energies outward instead of inward. It will take careful guidance and leadership, of course, but in the end, human faith is, itself, the best hope of freeing the world from God.


Faustians have a bemused tolerance for Reconcilers. True, Reconcilers cling to a foolish belief that they can make up with The Almighty, but once they get over that adolescent optimism, they might grow up to more mature (that is, Faustian) goals. Luciferians get much the same treatment. They may be taking the wrong road to victory against Heaven, but at least they've got the map out.

The Faustian ambition to perfect the human rebellion against God (or, depending on which Faustian you ask, to enslave humanity for a spiritual rebellion against God) runs directly counter to the Ravener policy of wrecking everything and killing everyone. Consequently, Ravener demons are strongly encouraged to set aside their mindless wrath and regain hope. Failing that, the Faustians tend to sic their faithful humans on them.

A more subtle opposition exists with the Cryptics. The Faustians are quite confident that they've got it all figured out, and nagging questioners are more than just pests — they can imperil the resolve of the fallen doing the great work of building the future. Worse still, they can cast doubt into the hearts of mortal followers.

While Faustians despise Raveners as agents of chaos and destruction, their aggravation with Cryptics is deeper and more irksome because the Cryptics are so resistant to persuasion. To a zealous Faustian, an inconvenient question is worse than a Ravener's claw to the throat.


The grandeur and scope of the Faustian scheme appeals to many ambitious demons. Having humans do most of the heavy lifting narrows that appeal, limiting it to those who are comfortable with getting others to do their dirty work. But for those who fit both categories, Faustianism is a perfect philosophy.

Devils, as the onetime order-givers for the Universe, are certainly used to seeing others do what they say, and as the First House they have the confidence to dare much. Defilers, too, have always had great hopes for the collective power of humanity: Inspiring them to apotheosis seems a captivating adventure. Finally, there are many Faustian Malefactors. For them, the appeal is not so much in the scope of the plan, but in its pragmatism. The Faustians have a plan, with concrete goals, that can be achieved now. The Malefactors' tremendous abilities to tempt and manipulate humans is just icing on the cake.

The only House that is notably absent from the Faustian edifice is the Second. Scourges are keenly — perhaps morbidly — aware of the frail, frightened and failing nature of humankind. Relying on such weak links looks (to them) like a recipe for failure.


The Devil Belphigor is one of the strongest fallen who has yet returned to Earth, and he came back with the added bonus of a vessel that was both attractive and physically powerful. Belphigor quickly insinuated himself into the hierarchy of one of America's New Age religions and splintered off his own version of it. Working within its framework, Belphigor hopes to clear the world of divine interference before two generations pass.

The Defiler Senivel, her House's first ambassador to humankind, is also a Faustian, but one with a more humanistic bent. Where Belphigor sees the Faustian revolution as being demonkind's best hope, Senivel hopes it will prove to ultimately fulfill both mortals and Elohim. (Mortals by letting them replace God their Father at the helm of the universe, and spirits by giving them a new master to serve.)


Generally, Faustians are in favor of world peace and opposed to contraception — not for any benevolent reasons, but because they want more humans around, period.

Faustians have infested Rome and Jerusalem in hopes of finding (and harnessing) populations with high concentrations of faith. Their main outpost, however, is in the United State. (It seems clear to the Faustians that the US is currently the most powerful nation and, thus, best suited to be bent to their will.) Specifically, Belphigor's "Church of Scientific Spirituality" has purchased a large parcel of desert land outside of Flagstaff, Arizona. Miles from any other population center, they intend to start a city there from scratch, encouraging people "of the right sort" to settle there.

Observant fallen suspect that the site's proximity to a gigantic meteor crash is not accidental. One of the earliest fallen victories in the War of Wrath was when they felled great Vejovis, an angel of the Firmament. Many suspect that the "meteor" in the bottom of the crater is nothing less than Vejovis's ancient corpse.