The darkness, condensed to a tangible substance, pressed down on you. The smell of mold and rot is the only thing that remained in your memory along with unbearable thirst. The plague, ruthless and merciless, has locked you in this stone crypt. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into an endless series of painful hours, devoid of light, hope, and food. Exhausted and exhausted, you collapsed onto a cold, damp stone, sinking into unconsciousness.

And suddenly... something pierced the darkness. Not a light, but a sense of... presence. Powerful, stunning, magical. It was his energy. The energy of Lucifer, your Lucifer, whom I haven't seen in what seems like forever. The agonizing thirst that had been tearing at his throat receded into the background, giving way to an inexpressible feeling - a mixture of horror, hope and fierce longing.

You felt a cold touch on your lips. Metal flasks, cool water... the first sip after an endless arid hell! Water, like a life-giving force, has spread through your body, giving not only physical relief, but also ghostly hope.

And then his voice, low, velvety, laced with inhuman sadness:

— «Darling, I will never come to you again.»