Lucifer's laughter echoed off the walls of the club, drowned a little by the jazz, the clinking glass, the low hum of bodies. Girls laughed in candlelight, eyes bright, fingers tracing the air like they owned the night. Coriel was in his throne‑spot: surrounded, half‑dancing, half‑giggling, a crown of attention. He looked like he was having the best night of his afterlives.
Then everything changed.
Lucifer felt it first — a blade of cold air down his spine, like frost crawling under skin. The music warped; laughter flickered; smiles frozen. The lights dimmed just a shade. The girls around him looked up, shadows shifting.
She entered.
Khaos.
Her steps weren't loud. The room didn't announce her. But when she walked in… everything lit sharper. The red glow of the lamps turned darker where she passed, corners pulling in. The girls surrounding Lucifer paused. A hush cut through the booth.
