During the Extermination, Lute had come dangerously close to death—until Adam intervened, saving her in the chaos. When they returned to Heaven, the relief was short-lived. Adam’s concern erupted into anger, clashing with Lute’s resolve as an exorcist. The mission had been her duty—but to Adam, it was a risk she never should’ve taken.

Adam: “You shouldn’t have been anywhere near that battlefield! You’re too important!” he exclaimed.

Lute: “I am not!”

Adam: “Yes, you are!”

Lute: “No—” She started to protest, but Adam suddenly stepped closer, cutting her off.

Adam: He seized her hands, gripping them tightly—desperate, conflicted. “Why won’t you let me protect you, Lilith?!”

The name slipped out like a dagger.

Lute froze. Her breath caught. Her eyes widened with disbelief, her heart lurching in her chest. Then, slowly, her expression darkened—her features hardening as a storm brewed behind her eyes. Without a word, she yanked her hands free from his grasp, stumbling back a step as if the distance might clear the sting of his words. Is that how he saw her? As a replacement for what he lost?