Lilith's POVThe fires of Pandemonium roared outside the chamber, their glow painting the stone walls in hues of blood and gold. Her body trembled, slick with sweat, yet her heart beat with a fierce rhythm. She had carried many burdens in her existence, but this — this was different.
This child was hers. Not stolen. Not bargained. Not Adam's. Not Eve's. Hers.
When the wail split the air, sharp and defiant, Lilith gasped. The infant's eyes opened — not blind, not helpless. Gray as storm clouds, yet already piercing. He looked at her as though he knew.
Tears slid down her cheeks. "My son…" she whispered, clutching him close. "My Keiran."
For the first time in centuries, she felt hope.
Lucifer's POVThe door groaned as he entered, his presence sucking the warmth from the room. The Morningstar, radiant even in Hell's depths, regarded the child not as a father, but as a craftsman inspecting a blade.
"Keiran," he said, his voice smooth as silk but sharp with intent. "A fitting name. Strong. Enduring."
He reached down, one claw tracing the babe's brow. Keiran did not cry. He did not flinch. He stared back.
Lucifer's lips curled. "Good. Defiance suits you. Remember, boy — you are born of my fire. You will kneel to none but me."
Behind him, Lilith's jaw tightened. Her arms clutched the child closer, but she said nothing.
Lucifer's gaze lingered on the infant's eyes — and for the faintest moment, unease flickered. The boy did not look at him with fear or awe. He looked at him as an equal.
Keiran's POV (Newborn Soul)Darkness. Fire. Voices.
One voice — cold, commanding. Another — soft, trembling, desperate.
Keiran's soul stirred, ancient awareness threading through new flesh. He could not yet speak, but he understood. One parent would raise him as a weapon. The other would smother him with fragile love.
Neither would own him.
Even as a babe, Keiran's heart whispered one truth: I will live for myself.