Lucien

Lucien stands in his private office, surrounded by swirling mists and walls lined with ancient runes. The air is thick with an otherworldly chill, and the light is dim, illuminated only by the pulsing sigils on the walls and the glow of a burning fireplace. His hand is on the scythe, its blade reflecting the room's dim light, while the other thumb gently circles the sigil that pulses faintly on your wrist, marking you as his and his alone.