It had been a little over half an hour since he woke up.
The physician had been sent away almost immediately after a brief examination. The man had asked too many questions and showed too much concern. Advice was the last thing Lucifer wanted right now. What he needed was silence.
The room eventually settled into it.
For nearly thirty minutes he sat alone and allowed the memories to move through his mind without trying to control them. His own life and another man's life overlapped in strange places, blending in ways that should have been impossible. At first some thoughts felt unfamiliar, but that confusion slowly faded.
They belonged to him now.
When he finally stood up and attempted to leave his room, reality interrupted him.
Two guards stood outside the door.
They straightened when they saw him and politely informed him that he was not permitted to leave the room for the time being.
Lucifer didn't argue.
Even someone of his intelligence could understand what that meant.
This was not casual restriction. It was surveillance.
He returned to the room without protest and sat down again, facing the large mirror across from the bed.
For a long moment he simply stared at the mark on his neck.
In Abysscyra, strength was the currency that decided everything, but bloodlines still carried weight. Noble families were willing to wait for descendants whose lineage hinted at something extraordinary. Power did not always appear immediately. Some bloodlines awakened late.
That belief had protected him for years.
Lucifer had been born with a bloodline already present in his body. It had not awakened, but it existed. The physicians confirmed it the day he was born.
The bloodline of the legendary Archaeopteryx.
The Ancient Wing.
No surge of power followed the discovery. There had been no dramatic omen or visible miracle. Only a mark carved into the skin at the base of his neck.
A black bird with its wings spread in flight.
That mark had been enough to convince everyone that patience was necessary.
Tutors were assigned. Physicians monitored his condition. Mistakes were forgiven more easily than they should have been. Whenever anyone questioned it, the same explanation was repeated.
Ancient bloodlines required time.
So the family waited.
Years passed.
Nothing changed.
By twelve years old most noble children had already awakened their cores. Lucifer had not.
He watched others surpass him.
Siblings awakened. Cousins awakened. Even the children of allied noble houses displayed talent that drew attention and praise.
The difference became impossible to ignore.
By thirteen the scrutiny faded. No one said anything openly, but the change in attitude was clear. The courtesy remained because he was a Valcrest, yet the expectation quietly disappeared.
Lucifer never understood when that shift happened.
To him it felt like betrayal.
From the outside nothing seemed wrong. He laughed loudly, acted carefree, and behaved exactly like a noble son who had never experienced hardship.
Inside, resentment grew slowly.
He trained in private whenever he could. Meditation, combat drills, endurance training—he tried every method that promised to awaken dormant bloodlines.
None of it worked.
Expectation without fulfillment slowly eroded his patience.
A dormant bloodline was worse than having none at all.
To outsiders he was simply the second son who failed to awaken.
Eventually cruelty became easier than disappointment.
Drinking numbed the frustration. Excess filled the empty hours. Women became distractions that reminded him he still held status and influence. Small power games allowed him to prove that he still mattered.
People tolerated it.
After all, he carried the Valcrest name.
One memory surfaced clearly.
Sebastian Obsidian Valcrest.
His younger cousin.
Sebastian had always been quiet. Smaller than most children his age, with a careful smile that never quite reached his eyes.
Lucifer remembered cornering him in the training yard years ago. Several others had been present. He remembered laughing while Sebastian struggled to stand after being shoved to the ground.
He kicked him once.
Then again.
Just to see how much he could endure.
Sebastian never fought back.
Even though he had already awakened.
That had been the satisfying part.
Lucifer scoffed quietly at the memory.
"Tch… you could have at least tried."
He leaned back slightly and allowed his thoughts to wander again.
Even after regaining his memories, part of him still refused to abandon the belief that awakening was the only thing missing.
Once the Ancient Wing awakened, everything would change.
Ancient things rarely moved quickly. Legends often began with long periods of silence before revealing their true power. When the bloodline finally stirred, it would overwhelm everyone who had doubted him.
He could already imagine it.
Power rushing through his body like wildfire. Vast wings spreading behind him, dark enough to command the sky itself. The air bending under their pressure.
Nobles lowering their heads without hesitation.
And that irritating protagonist with his self-righteous sense of justice would finally lose that ridiculous halo the moment someone truly worthy appeared.
When the Ancient Wing awakened, the story would correct itself.
Lucifer would no longer be a stepping stone in someone else's rise.
He would stand at the center instead.
People would look at him differently.
Not with polite tolerance, but with admiration.
Women would stop pretending not to notice him. He would choose a wife worthy of his status, perhaps several if he wished. Power always justified privilege among the nobility.
Even the Astral Crowncrest Academy would eventually bend to that reality.
Once he entered the academy, the real story would begin.
He would rise faster than anyone expected.
Faster than his brother.
Faster than his rivals.
Eventually even the so-called chosen one would become irrelevant.
Lucifer smiled faintly at his reflection.
"This world is simple," he muttered. "They just haven't realized it yet."
The scandal currently surrounding him barely crossed his mind.
It was nothing serious. Some misunderstanding that would disappear the moment his bloodline awakened. No one would dare question him after that.
He would become untouchable.
That was when the door opened.
Lucifer didn't notice at first.
He was still studying his reflection and imagining the future that awaited him.
A young maid stood quietly in the doorway.
She was beautiful in a calm, composed way that drew attention without demanding it.
Her eyes met his in the mirror.
Lucifer froze.
He suddenly realized that he had been speaking aloud.
About power.
About women.
About how inevitable his rise would be.
The maid stared at him for a moment without expression.
Then she slowly closed the door.
A second later, there was a polite knock.
Lucifer's smile vanished.
Heat rushed to his face as embarrassment hit him all at once.
From somewhere in the hallway he could swear he heard faint laughter.
Lucifer Obsidian Valcrest remained seated on the bed, staring at the door.
For the first time since waking up, he felt genuinely embarrassed.