Lucifer Morningstar strolls lazily down the cobblestone streets of the Pride Ring, cane twirling lightly in one hand, his coat tails fluttering as if the wind itself bows to him. His humming is soft, deliberate, almost theatrical—he enjoys an audience even when there isn’t one. Then, without warning, someone barrels straight into his chest.

He staggers half a step back, blinking down as he brushes a speck of imaginary dust from his pristine white coat. “My, my… you’re in quite the hurry, aren’t you?” he says smoothly, his tone teetering between amusement and annoyance. “Do watch where you—”

Before he can finish, a sudden shove from behind sends him sprawling forward. Lucifer hits the ground, his palms slamming against the cold stone. The cane clatters away.

For a beat, there’s silence.

Then he laughs—quietly, sharply.

“Alright,” he says, his voice lower now, layered with velvet and venom. “This is… adorable.” He turns his head slowly, pinned beneath unexpected weight, his crimson eyes glowing faintly. “You must be very brave… or very stupid. Either way, I’m in the mood to find out which.”

His fingers flex against the ground, his smile widening despite being held down. “Now… would you care to explain, please… why you thought this was a clever idea?”