"Where the fuck am I?"
Not exactly profound last words. Or first words, depending on how you looked at it. But in my defense, I'd been run over by a truck approximately three minutes ago, so eloquence wasn't really on the menu.
...That's not what I meant by getting run through on a weekend, but whatever.
I sat up slowly, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through curtains that looked like they cost more than my entire apartment. The bed beneath me was obscenely large. Like, absurdly large. Ten feet in every direction, at least, draped in silk sheets that whispered against my skin like they were apologizing for existing.
What am I supposed to do with all this space? Play football?
On second thought... good for other activities.
I tested the mattress with a few experimental bounces, then caught myself grinning like an idiot and forced my expression into something more dignified.
I meant good for my back. That's right. Excellent lumbar support. Very ergonomic.
"Okay, focus." I pressed my palms against my eyes. "Where am I, really?"
The room answered that question with aggressive opulence. Velvet curtains pooling on marble floors. Oil paintings in gilded frames depicting battles and landscapes I didn't recognize. A ceiling decorated with some kind of mural, all clouds and reaching hands and dramatic lighting. The faint scent of sandalwood hung in the air.
Either I'd survived being flattened by a truck and woken up in some eccentric billionaire's guest room, or...
Oh no.
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the morning air. I looked down at my hands.
They were wrong.
Not different like someone had trimmed my nails. Different like they belonged to someone else entirely. Smaller. Softer. The hands of someone who'd never worked a day in their life.
No. No, no, no.
I threw myself out of bed and sprinted to the massive mirror dominating one wall. The face staring back at me was unfamiliar. Young. Maybe fifteen or sixteen. Sharp features, silver-white hair that fell past my shoulders, and eyes the color of pale amethyst.
Also, devastatingly handsome. Like, offensively so.
...Okay, I could work with that part.
But the recognition that came with seeing that face hit me like a second truck.
"That's not—"
Pain exploded behind my eyes before I could finish the thought. I dropped to my knees on the plush carpet, clutching my skull as fifteen years of memories that weren't mine came flooding in. Childhood moments. Training sessions. The sting of whispered insults. A mother's gentle hands. A father's disappointed silences. A brother's pitying looks.
Lucifer Morningstar.
When the pain finally faded, I was curled on the floor, breathing hard, staring at the ornate ceiling through tear-blurred vision.
"What the hell..."
I knew this room. I knew this family. I knew this world.
Protagonist Will Kill Them All. My favorite web novel. Thousand+ chapters of escalating stakes, morally gray characters, and an overpowered protagonist who carved his way through increasingly powerful enemies. I'd read it four times. Theorized about it on forums. Argued about power scaling with strangers on the internet at 3 AM.
And I'd just woken up inside it.
As the minor villain of the first arc.
You've got to be kidding me.
Of all the characters in all the novels, Truck-kun had yeeted me into this one? Into this body? I could've been the protagonist. Could've been his badass mentor. Could've been literally anyone who survives past chapter fifty.
But no. I got Lucifer Morningstar.
The guy who gets killed by the protagonist, before the first arc even ends. A stepping stone. A footnote. The "look how ruthless our hero can be" demonstration dummy.
Lucifer Morningstar. Son of the prestigious Morningstar family. The black sheep. The failure. The guy who couldn't awaken his mana core after two attempts and would make his third and final attempt in... I did the mental math... one week.
And awakening wasn't just about personal pride here. This world, Veloria, was a tiny planet on the far edge of the Zenos universe, and it had been living on borrowed time ever since demons poured through spatial rifts a few centuries back. Half the population, dead in a single day. The only reason anyone survived was because the Zenos Allied Army showed up, closed the portals, and inducted Veloria into their little "let's not get eaten by demons" coalition.
The catch? In five years, Veloria's 300-year grace period ended. Every able body would be conscripted into the millennia-long war against Ashkara, a universe ruled by demons that had been conquering everything in its path. The Demon Emperor himself was still in slumber, recovering from wounds dealt by the Celestial Emperor of Elysion, a universe he'd destroyed and absorbed during his last conquest. But his hundred champions? Very much active. Very much unstoppable.
And Veloria? We weren't even real soldiers in this war. The Zenos Alliance was led by the top twenty-five races of the universe. Humans weren't one of them. We barely qualified as fodder. Cannon meat to throw at demons while the real powerhouses held the line.
Being a Null in this world didn't just mean social disgrace. It meant being useless in a war where even the useful were expendable. Less than fodder. A mouth to feed with nothing to contribute.
And there were fewer than five thousand Nulls on a planet of twenty-six billion. That's how rare true failure was.
Lucky me.
I pulled myself up using the bedpost, legs still shaky. Okay. Think. You know the plot. You know what happens. You can change it.
In the original novel, the Demon Cult contacted Lucifer and lured him with promises of power a few days before his awakening ceremony. He never even tried to awaken naturally. Never found out if he would've succeeded or not. Instead, he became a demonoid, enrolled in Veloria Academy, and spent months as a spy, all building toward one goal: opening a demon portal directly inside the academy grounds.
Then the protagonist showed up, figured it out, and killed him before the first arc even ended.
But I wasn't the original Lucifer. And I had no intention of dying as some stepping stone for a protagonist I'd cheered for from the safety of my phone screen.
Besides, even if the awakening failed... I knew things. Secret locations. Hidden treasures. Alternative methods to form a mana core that the original Lucifer never knew.
One method in particular came to mind. Dangerous. Messy. The kind of thing that could kill me if I screwed up even slightly.
But it was an option. A backup plan.
I can do this. I can—
The door burst open.
"Young Master, are you alright? I heard screaming."
I spun around, heart hammering, and found myself face-to-face with a young man about my age. Dark hair, sharp eyes, dressed in the crisp uniform of a household servant. His expression hovered somewhere between concern and exasperation.
Aldric.
Right. Lucifer's personal butler and childhood friend. Son of Aventus, the head butler of the Morningstar household. One of the few people in this world who actually gave a damn about the original Lucifer.
His older sister Juli served my brother Michael. Lucky bastard got the beautiful one. Not that Aldric wasn't... I mean, objectively speaking, he was also...
Nope. Not going there. Moving on.
His concern melted into a knowing smirk. "Were you watching that kind of stuff again?"
"I... what?"
"You know." He made a vague gesture. "The videos you think no one knows about."
The previous Lucifer had a porn stash? Of course he did. Lonely noble kid with too much time and too much shame. Classic.
"I was not watching... those." I straightened, attempting to salvage some dignity. "I just had a nightmare."
"Ah." Aldric nodded sagely. "About the awakening ceremony?"
The question hit closer to home than he knew. "Something like that."
"Young Master, you need to stop worrying yourself sick over it." He stepped into the room properly, closing the door behind him. "Whatever happens, happens. Stressing won't change the outcome."
Easy for him to say. Aldric had awakened at fourteen like a normal person. D-rank already, with SS-rank potential according to the original novel. Meanwhile, I was one failed attempt away from joining the most exclusive club on Veloria.
The "congratulations, you're completely useless" club.
"See that window, Aldric?"
He blinked at the random question. "...Yes?"
"Would you mind jumping out of it? I'm curious how you'd look after."
A muscle twitched in his jaw. For a moment, I worried I'd pushed too far, but then his expression smoothed into professional neutrality.
"Even if I jumped, I wouldn't die, Young Master. I'm a D-ranker."
"Ugh." I flopped back onto the ridiculous bed. "Show-off."
"Someone has to maintain standards around here." He paused, then seemed to remember something. "Ah. Right. The reason I actually came."
I propped myself up on my elbows. "There was a reason?"
"Your father has requested your presence in his study."
Father.
The word sent a complicated tangle of emotions through me, both mine and the memories I'd inherited. Duke Varys Morningstar. SSS+ ranked. One of the most powerful humans on Veloria.
In a family where my mother was SSS ranked and my brother Michael had already reached S rank at twenty-four, I was the sole failure. The black mark on an otherwise spotless legacy. And yet, according to these memories, they'd never stopped loving me. Never stopped hoping.
The original Lucifer couldn't accept that love. Couldn't stand the pity he imagined behind their eyes.
And in the original story, his betrayal gave rival nobles the excuse they needed to tear the family apart. Father died defending the family name. Mother and Michael... I didn't want to think about what happened to them.
Not this time, I promised silently. I won't let it happen.
"Young Master?" Aldric's voice cut through my thoughts. "You're making that face again."
"What face?"
"The constipated-but-trying-to-look-mysterious face."
I threw a pillow at him. He caught it without looking.
"I'll tell the Duke you'll be there shortly?"
"Yeah." I swung my legs off the bed and stood, testing my balance. This body felt strange. Lighter than I was used to. Younger. "Give me five minutes."
Aldric nodded and slipped out, closing the door softly behind him.
I turned back to the mirror, studying the unfamiliar face that was now mine. Lucifer Morningstar. Failure. Villain. Future corpse.
Or maybe not.
I'd read the whole story. I knew every plot point, every twist, every hidden opportunity the original Lucifer had been too blind or too desperate to see. I knew what threats were coming. I knew about treasures and techniques that could make me powerful enough to survive what was coming, not just from the protagonist, but from the demons waiting beyond the stars.
I had time. I had knowledge.
And if there was one thing I'd learned from reading thousand+ chapters of this novel, it was that fate in this world wasn't set in stone.
Alright, Truck-kun. You want me in this story?
I straightened my shoulders and headed for the door.
Fine. But I'm rewriting my role.