Lucifer walked out of the room, leaving Seraphim's Embrace behind with Arthur.
His father's words echoed in his mind.
"Don't worry, Lucifer. You will surpass him soon enough. After all, you unlocked even a second Gift. You are sure to be the destined Second Hero."
Lucifer hadn't said anything to his father at the time. What was there to say?
But now, standing in the quiet corridor, looking back at where Arthur had been—at what Arthur had become—Lucifer looked down at his own hands.
'Second Hero?'
He clenched his fists.
'I am not worthy.'
Not because he lacked strength. Not because he lacked talent. No, he had both in abundance. But a hero wasn't someone who wielded power simply because they could. And he—he had spent so long demanding, expecting, assuming his place at the top.
