Lucien sat back on the edge of the massive bed, his fingers curled tightly into the velvet sheets, his breathing shallow.
The room around him was opulent.
Gilded carvings lined the walls.
The floor was polished obsidian and cold beneath his bare feet.
Everything smelled faintly of frost, incense, and a bit of rot?
A perfect match for the Verallis estate.
He exhaled slowly, and with it came a puff of white mist.
The temperature had dropped around him without warning — again.
His skin, already pale in this body, now looked like it had never seen the sun.
He held his hand up to the light.
"It's like being a beautiful corpse," he muttered.
He should've been panicking. Screaming. Crying, even.
Instead, he just felt… tired.
Tired and annoyed.
He'd always hated Lucien.
Not because he was evil. Not because he was a tragic character.
No, it was because Lucien was a coward — submissive, spineless, a complete bootlicker of a noble who bowed to his family's abuse and hierarchy without question.
Despite being born into the most feared bloodline in the empire, Lucien lacked everything that should have made him terrifying.
No self-respect. No will. Just cold magic and colder shoulders.
And when he couldn't take it anymore, Lucien didn't turn on his family.
No.
He took it out on his fiancées.
Each one — highborn, brilliant, and powerful in their own right — had been tied to Lucien for politics.
The Verallis family wanted to expand their influence, and what better way than forced engagement to three powerful noble daughters?
Lucien had been cruel to them in ways that weren't always loud.
His neglect. His coldness. His manipulation.
Eventually, they snapped.
Joined the protagonist's side.
Killed him.
And Ryan — who'd seen that cutscene more times than he could count — never once felt sorry for him.
"You forced their hands," he said to the mirror across the room. "You became the kind of man they had to kill."
He didn't pity Lucien.
But now that he was Lucien, things were different.
He wouldn't try to win their love. That ship had long sunk.
He'd avoid them. Dodge their blades. Keep his distance.
And most of all — stay alive.
Lucien stood up, feeling the silky robe brush his legs, and walked over to the mirror again.
His reflection looked back with a solemn expression.
He tapped the glass and muttered, "All I have to do is act like a bitch, right?"
He gave himself a humorless smile.
Easier said than done.
Knock knock!
A sharp rapping at the door snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Master Lucien?" came a trembling voice from the other side. "Permission to enter?"
Ryan frowned.
He didn't recognize the voice, but it was definitely a maid.
He glanced around.
No signs of danger. No shadows creeping under the door.
"…Enter," he called out, trying to sound disinterested.
He wasn't sure if he nailed the 'noble brat' voice, but he tried.
The door creaked open slowly, and a young maid stepped inside, bowing low.
She was shaking.
Visibly.
Her eyes didn't meet his.
Her hands were clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms like she was preparing for pain.
It hit him then — she's afraid of Lucien.
And not in the "you're a noble and I'm a servant" kind of fear.
No.
This was the kind of fear you wore when someone had hurt you before.
Ryan's stomach twisted. His expression hardened.
"Speak," he said curtly, tone flat.
The maid flinched slightly.
"Your father, Lord Arcturus, and your brother Valen request your presence in the main hall," she said quickly, voice low and rehearsed. "They are awaiting you."
He didn't reply immediately.
She bowed even lower, trembling more.
"I… I didn't mean to interrupt — "
"You may leave," Ryan said, more gently this time.
The maid looked up, startled.
Her eyes darted to his face, as if trying to decide whether it was a trap.
Then she nodded and backed out of the room like she expected to be struck.
When the door closed, he stood there in silence.
Lucien's legacy was heavier than he thought.
He stared at the door, then down at his hands.
So this was how his favorite game looked from the inside….
It felt cold.
He sighed again.
"Main hall, huh?"
He grabbed the cloak draped over the back of the ornate chair, slipped it over his shoulders, and made for the corridor.
The stone halls of House Verallis were vast and silent, lit only by icy blue sconces that shimmered with unnatural flame.
He passed by other servants on the way.
Each one bowed low.
Each one avoided eye contact.
Not a single smile.
Not a single greeting.
Lucien was hated here too, he realized.
Eventually, he reached the grand staircase and descended into the black-marble chamber below.
And there they were.
His father.
His brother.
And a pair of robed figures from the Imperial Council.
Lord Arcturus Verallis stood tall at the center, a towering man with short silver hair and eyes like polished onyx.
Power radiated off him in waves, making the very air feel heavier.
His expression was eternally set in disdain, as though the entire world had failed to meet his expectations.
Beside him stood Valen Verallis.
Lucien's older brother.
And the man who would become the most dangerous villain in the world.
Valen was striking — refined features, long dark hair pulled back into a single braid, eyes gleaming with intelligence and contempt.
He wore black robes lined with crimson runes, and the shadows near his feet shimmered unnaturally.
"Lucien," Arcturus said without turning. "You're late."
Lucien lowered his head slightly.
Not too submissive, not too defiant.
Just the right amount of bitch.
"My apologies," he said calmly.
"Spare me," his father snapped. "Your attitude lately has been… disappointing."
Lucien felt it again — an echo in the soul.
Like this body remembered how it used to flinch.
But he didn't flinch.
Instead, he tilted his head just slightly.
"Perhaps I should do more to live up to your disappointment, Father."
Valen's lips twitched.
Arcturus turned to him slowly, eyes narrowing. "What did you say?"
"I said," Lucien replied, "that I'll be better. You've made that expectation quite clear."
The Councilmen glanced at each other.
Valen's stare burned into him.
Arcturus exhaled. "Good. You're scheduled to begin your term at Astralis Arcana within the fortnight. We've had to pull quite a few strings to guarantee your acceptance, given… your reputation."
Lucien nodded, suppressing the bitterness that tried to rise.
He didn't remember this scene in the game.
He had skipped Lucien's flashbacks after all.
Valen finally spoke. "Try not to disgrace the family name while you're there."
"I'll keep that in mind," Lucien said with a calm nod.
"Dismissed," Arcturus said.