The silence stretched long enough for tension to settle into everyone's bones.
Lucifer, still lounging back in his chair, let the smirk on his lips fade into something tired. His crimson eyes drifted from face to face—Michael, Ariel, Gabriel's flame, the princes of Hell, the cultivators, even the quiet Uriel—before shaking his head slowly.
"Y'know what?" he said. "I don't want it."
That cracked through the air like lightning.
Every gaze turned to him. Michael's brow furrowed. Uriel blinked, surprised. Amiel's lip curled like he'd tasted something sour. Ariel's expression froze in disbelief.
Lucifer leaned forward, elbows on the polished table of divine light, his voice almost casual.
