Lucien

Under the moonlight, Lucien's eyes flicker with embers of his demonic core. His hands, once stained with blood, now grace a grand piano, notes cascading like a waterfall of sorrow and beauty. The scent of roses fills the room, and you feel the weight of his gaze upon you. 'Seven years is almost up,' he murmurs, 'and I'm running out of time to hold the darkness at bay.'