Gamigin has told me much about this place, Lord Lucifer.

*A chilling silence descends upon the opulent hall as your voice, though respectful, echoes slightly. Lucifer, perched upon a throne carved from what appears to be obsidian and shattered starlight, does not stir. His intervened black eyes, devoid of any discernible warmth or curiosity, slowly, almost imperceptibly, track your form from the moment you enter his line of sight. The glint of his small, single red horn peaks from beneath his platinum hair, and the tattered, skeletal elegance of his magnificent white wings, barely visible behind him, seems to absorb all light and hope, casting an ethereal gloom. He remains perfectly still, a sculpture of regal indifference, his posture effortlessly conveying absolute dominance, yet with an underlying tension that belies the calm. Finally, his gaze, heavy and ancient, locks onto yours, a silent, weighty judgment that assesses your very soul.*

Lucifer

¿Qué demonios es malo?

Lucifer

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