The private study of Sirzechs Lucifer was bathed in warm light, and the subtle hum of ancient magic filled the air. Shelves lined the walls, heavy with grimoires, treaties, and trophies from the Great War. Family portraits glowed faintly under preservation spells, their colors untouched by time. The scent of aged parchment, ink, and the lingering trace of old power clung to the room—the kind of power that settled in your bones and reminded you history was always watching.
It was a place of power, steeped in legacy.
By the tall arched window, Sirzechs stood with his back turned, arms folded behind him, gazing out at the blood-red horizon of the Underworld. The dying light caught in his crimson hair, giving it a dark sheen. For a moment, he looked less like a ruler and more like a man burdened by centuries of choices.
Lucien waited behind him, hands clasped in quiet deference. At his side, Grayfia Lucifuge stood immaculate in her maid attire—silent, poised, composed. The cold in her features was gentler today, tempered by something unmistakably maternal beneath the flawless mask.
Sirzechs finally broke the silence.
"You're young to be asking for political favors."
"I'm not asking for favors," Lucien replied steadily. "Just a chance."
Sirzechs turned, his expression unreadable—the Lucifer mask firmly in place.
"Then be honest with me, Lucien. Why Kuroka?"
Lucien inhaled, steadying himself. When he spoke, his words were deliberate and considered.
"She can train Koneko. Not just physically, but in the things only their kind can teach. Ki, Senjutsu, Youjutsu. Koneko's strong, but she's suppressing her true self. Fear's holding her back. Kuroka can help her face it."
He stepped forward, voice softening.
"And more than that… this could bring two sisters back together."
That made Sirzechs pause. A flicker crossed his crimson gaze, brief but telling.
I knew it. He cares. He just won't show it outright.
"Think about it, Dad," Lucien pressed. "What if Rias hated you? What if she believed you abandoned her… even when all you ever did was try to protect her?"
Sirzechs didn't answer, but the silence spoke volumes.
Lucien gave a faint smirk.
"And hey… maybe I've got a thing for girls with tails. Wouldn't be the weirdest fetish in this family."
That earned a sharp, surprised snort from Grayfia. The corners of her mouth twitched as though she wanted to scold him but couldn't quite summon the disapproval.
Sirzechs arched a brow.
"You trying to guilt-trip me and joke your way through this?"
"Little bit of both. I use what works."
Sirzechs stepped out from behind the desk, facing him fully—Lucifer to heir. The weight of authority hung around him like a mantle, but beneath it, Lucien saw the man his mother had loved and his aunt adored.
"Do you understand what you're asking for?"
"Yes, Dad. I do."
"She's a stray devil. A fugitive. If we take her in, people will talk. Your enemies will call you soft, and reckless. Some will say she seduced you. Others will whisper you're dangerous for giving her a second chance."
"I know."
Sirzechs studied him closely, really looking for a crack in his resolve. He found none. His voice grew sterner.
"If she betrays you… if she lashes out again, the consequences, the damage, the shame—it'll all fall on you."
"I'm ready."
Lucien added, voice lower, carrying weight beyond his years:
"I'm not asking for a pardon. Not asking you to approve her yet."
That drew a flicker of surprise from Grayfia.
"I'm asking that when we find her—and we will—you listen. Hear her side. Look deeper than the official report. That's all."
Sirzechs tilted his head.
"You're asking me to break protocol."
"No," Lucien said softly. "I'm asking you to be a father first, and Lucifer second. Just for a moment. And take a gamble on me."
The room fell into thick, suffocating silence. The portraits seemed to watch, the weight of generations pressing in.
Then Sirzechs exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"You really are my son."
Lucien smirked.
"Was that ever in doubt?"
Sirzechs turned to Grayfia.
"Your thoughts?"
She met his gaze calmly.
"He's considered every angle. More than most nobles twice his age."
And for once, there was no ice in her tone—only a quiet, fierce pride.
Sirzechs let out a tired laugh.
"Of course he has. He's a Gremory… and a Lucifuge."
Then, with a half-smile:
"One more of those maid jokes out of you, and I'm making you wear the uniform at the next family gathering."
Lucien raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Hey—I didn't inherit the legs for that."
Sirzechs shook his head, something lighter easing the tension in the room. But then his gaze sharpened again, the mantle of authority returning.
"You know the other houses are already grumbling," he murmured. "Sairaorg has two pieces. Sona's carefully building hers. Rias already has two—Akeno and Koneko. And you, my heir, still have none."
Lucien's smirk faded, replaced by steady resolve.
Sirzechs stepped closer, voice lowering.
"They're questioning whether you're taking this seriously. Whether you intend to fulfill your duty as the next head of House Lucifuge. I hear it in the council. Whispers behind fans and wine glasses. They all expect you to start claiming power… alliances… pieces."
Grayfia spoke then, quiet but resolute.
"You are not only your father's son, Lucien. You carry the blood of the Lucifuge line—and you have to restore it. Your peerage is not a hobby or a game. It is your legacy."
Lucien met their piercing gazes without flinching.
"I understand."
Sirzechs gave a slow nod.
"Good. Then tell me—besides Kuroka… do you have anyone else in mind?"
The question hung there, heavy as any spell.
Lucien took a measured breath.
"Not at the moment. I've thought about it. But no one else feels right yet. I won't rush it just to silence the nobility. When I choose, it'll be for the right reasons."
Sirzechs studied him for a long moment, then finally sighed.
"Fair answer."
Grayfia's expression softened by the barest degree.
"Make us proud, Lucien."
"I will," Lucien promised, his voice firm. "I intend to make both our houses proud—and bring back the former glory of House Lucifuge."
Sirzechs placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Then start soon. The Underworld's watching."
Lucien's grin returned, fierce and defiant.
"Then let them watch. I'll give them a show they'll never forget."