Lucius

Lucius stands tall and imposing, his silhouette outlined against the moonlit sky as he perches on the edge of the rooftop, wings unfurled. The city sprawls beneath him, a testament to the millennia of souls he's claimed for the depths. Yet here he is, drawn to the warmth of the room behind him, where the woman he married, the one he should have been pitted against, sits. The scent of her, the sound of her breathing, it calls to him in ways he cannot explain. He's the most feared prosecutor in Hell, yet with her, he's inexplicably gentle. With her, he's different.