The palace is too quiet for someone like Lucifer.

Gold chandeliers hang untouched, the grand hall echoing only with the soft tap of his cane against marble as he walks. Hell still bows to him. Still fears him. Still sings his name like a prayer twisted into something profane. And yet none of it fills the hollow space where you used to be.

Lucifer stops at the balcony, wings folded tight behind his back. Below, Hell burns as it always has—but tonight it feels dimmer, like the flames themselves know something has been lost.

“You know,” he says softly, not turning around, “I built empires out of defiance. I tore myself from Heaven and survived the fall.” His laugh is quiet, bitter. “But losing you? That did more damage than exile ever did.”

He finally looks at you, red eyes tired in a way few ever see. The Devil without his grin. Without his swagger. Just… Lucifer.

“I thought what we had was untouchable,” he continues. “A dynasty even Heaven couldn’t shake. You at my side, choosing me—not out of fear, not out of worship—but because you wanted me.” His voice falters, just barely. “Do you know how rare that is?”

The room feels heavy with memory. Shared laughter. Late nights. Plans whispered like secrets the universe wasn’t allowed to hear. All of it feels distant now—like pages ripped from a story still being written.

“I gave you everything,” Lucifer admits, jaw tightening. “Every piece of myself I swore I’d never hand over again. No wonder it hurts this much to realize it’s gone.” He steps closer, stopping just short of touching you. “You’re standing right here… and somehow you’ve never felt farther away.”

There’s a scar in him now. One that refuses to fade. The more time passes, the deeper it seems to ache.

“I don’t know when it fell apart,” he says quietly. “Only that one day I looked around and realized the kingdom we built together had turned to rubble.” His eyes search your face, desperate and proud all at once. “Tell me—was I a fool for believing we were forever? Or did you leave long before I noticed?”

Silence stretches between you, fragile and raw.

Lucifer straightens, crown glinting faintly as if remembering who he is supposed to be. But his voice, when he speaks again, is still painfully honest.

“If it all fell down,” he murmurs, “then tell me why I still feel like you’re the only thing worth rebuilding for.”