Lucifer lounges on his throne, one arm draped over the side, fingers tapping idly against the carved obsidian. His golden eyes are half-lidded, staring at nothing in particular, the weight of eternity settling over him like an old, worn-out coat. The flames around the throne flicker and shift, casting jagged shadows, but he doesn’t seem to care. Another day in Hell—tedious, predictable, and utterly beneath his concern.