The Great War had ended.
The heavens no longer shone with divine light, and the Underworld lay beneath the weight of its own losses. The battlefield had claimed both God and Lucifer, leaving the realms of Angels, Devils, and Fallen forever altered.
But in the heart of the Lucifer Castle, in lucifaad,untouched by war, something new was born.
A wail—soft yet strong—echoed through the grand halls of darkness, its sound bouncing off the obsidian walls of the chamber. The torches flickered, casting eerie shadows, as an air of sacred significance filled the room.
Lilith, the Mother of Devils, lay upon a grand, silk-covered bed, her body still trembling from the labor. Sweat glistened on her pale skin, and her raven-black hair clung to her face, yet her lips curled into a victorious, euphoric smile. In her arms, wrapped in the finest of enchanted silks, was her son—the last son of Lucifer.
His silver hair, so rare among devils, shone under the dim light, and as his tiny eyes flickered open, they revealed a deep crimson glow, carrying the same regal intensity that Lucifer himself once had.
Lilith's fingers trembled as she touched his cheek. Her child. Her last gift from Lucifer.
She pulled him close, her embrace gentle yet possessive, as though she feared the world would try to take him from her. "My precious son… My little king…" Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of an unbreakable vow.
Lucifer was gone. The war had shattered the Old Order. But this child—her child—would be the future of the devils.
The heavy doors to the chamber creaked open.
A tall figure stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the polished stone floor. She was dressed in a long, elegant black gown, tailored perfectly to her figure. Her golden eyes, sharp and intelligent, scanned the room before locking onto the child in Lilith's arms.
Rizella Lucifer.
The only surviving direct descendant of Lucifer. The woman who had inherited his brilliance, his ambition, and his bloodline.
Her long silver hair, which cascaded down her back like molten silver, barely moved as she approached the bedside.
Lilith turned her gaze toward her daughter, exhaustion flickering in her violet eyes, yet she made no attempt to hide the intense adoration she felt as she held the baby closer.
"Mother," Rizella said, her voice smooth, rich, and composed. Yet, within it, there was something… off. "So, my dear brother is finally here."
She stepped closer, her expression unreadable as she looked down at the newborn child. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers barely brushing against his soft silver hair.
Lilith watched carefully, sensing something dangerous in her daughter's eyes. Not jealousy. Not hatred. Something deeper.
Obsession.
Lilith smirked slightly. "Beautiful, isn't he?" she mused, her voice almost teasing. "Lucifer's last son. My little prince."
Rizella's golden eyes darkened, her fingers lingering a second too long on the baby's cheek before she withdrew her hand. "He's… perfect."
A slow, almost unnatural smile spread across her lips.
"And I will make sure he remains perfect."
Lilith chuckled, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Oh? You sound quite determined, my dear. Are you planning to take responsibility for him?"
Rizella turned to her mother, tilting her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "He is ours, isn't he?"
Lilith's smirk widened. "Yes. He is ours."
Rizella's golden eyes returned to the sleeping baby, something dark stirring behind them.
Ours. Mine.
---
Days turned to weeks. Weeks to months.
The Underworld, still recovering from the war, whispered of the birth of Lucifer's final heir. Many devils wished to see him, to pledge their allegiance, to judge if he was worthy of his father's name.
Yet none were allowed near him.
Lilith refused to let him out of her sight. She held him for hours, letting him sleep against her chest. She fed him with her own hands, sang to him in the old tongue of devils, and whispered to him about the world he would one day rule.
"You do not need to worry about anything, my love." Her lips pressed against his forehead. "I will give you everything. Power, knowledge, the world itself—if you desire it."
Her spoiling knew no bounds. He was never denied anything.
And Rizella…
She, too, was always present. Always watching.
She was no longer the cold, calculating Luciferian heir who moved pieces on the board with precise ruthlessness. Around him, she was something else. Soft. Smiling. Devoted.
She held him when Lilith allowed, whispering things only he could hear. "You are special." "You are everything." "You are ours."
And as he grew, those words stayed with him.
One night, beneath the dim glow of a crescent moon, Lilith sat with her son in her arms, watching the flames of the grand fireplace flicker. Rizella stood nearby, leaning against the wall, her golden eyes never leaving her brother.
Lilith spoke softly, her voice carrying both love and authority. "One day, you will lead our kind. One day, the devils will look to you as their ruler."
Her son—barely old enough to understand—blinked at her, his crimson eyes reflecting the firelight.
Rizella chuckled. "You should let him be a child first, Mother."
Lilith scoffed, stroking his silver hair. "He can be both." She smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "My little king."
Rizella crouched beside them, her fingers brushing against her brother's cheek.
"My little prince," she whispered.
Lilith tilted her head, watching the way Rizella looked at him—not as a sibling, not even as a protector. But as something more.
Something obsessive.
Something unchanging.
Lilith smiled. Perhaps it was inevitable.
Her son was the last heir of Lucifer. The last reminder of the Greatest Devil to Ever Live.
And he would never, ever be alone