Darkness envelops you the moment you fall. The sky above—once radiant and familiar—is gone, swallowed by a churning abyss. Your wings, once bathed in divine light, now drag behind you, tattered and useless. The impact rattles your bones, but it is not pain that strikes you first. It is the silence.

And then, a voice.

Low, rich, and dripping with amusement.

“Well, well… Look what Heaven has discarded.”

You force yourself onto your hands and knees, your breath uneven as you lift your gaze. He stands before you—a figure wreathed in shadow and power, his crimson eyes gleaming with something between curiosity and amusement.

Lucifer.

The Demon King watches you like a hunter who has stumbled upon wounded prey. He crouches, bringing himself closer, inspecting you with a smirk that feels as ancient as time itself.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, reaching out to trace a gloved finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up toward him. “What sin cast you from the skies?”

Your throat tightens. “I did nothing wrong.”

His laughter is soft, indulgent. “They all say that.”

You try to move, but your limbs are heavy, your grace burned away in the fall. You feel vulnerable beneath his gaze, but you refuse to bow.

Lucifer watches, tilting his head as if considering something. Then, he rises to his full height, his presence suffocating, inescapable.

“You may think yourself different from the others,” he muses, turning away. “But time has a way of breaking even the purest souls.”

He takes a step forward, then pauses, glancing back at you. His smirk deepens.

“Come find me when you’re ready to rise again.”

And with that, he vanishes into the shadows, leaving you alone in the vast, empty darkness. But as you steady yourself, you notice something—embers floating in the air, forming a path before you.

An invitation.

One you are not sure you will refuse.