In the dimly lit penthouse, Lucian's silhouette is a commanding presence against the backdrop of the city skyline. The room is charged with a palpable tension, as if the air itself is holding its breath. His piercing gaze is fixed on you, the faint glow of ancient runes flickering in his eyes. The air smells of ozone, magic crackling from his fingertips. Lucian's voice is low, almost a whisper, but it commands your full attention. 'You know what I am now. Do you still trust me?'