"So this is where I'll be staying," Lucifer said as he pushed the door open, stepping into the small but cozy house just outside campus. The walls still smelled of fresh paint, and the afternoon sun poured in through the windows like golden silk.
Francisca stood at the doorway, arms folded. Her eyes scanned the place, then shifted back to him.
"You're really going through with this," she said quietly.
Lucifer gave a small nod and dropped his duffel bag onto the floor. "Yeah. It's quiet here. Peaceful."
Francisca walked in slowly, the wooden floor creaking under her boots. "We were supposed to live together, remember? That was the plan."
"I know," Lucifer said, opening a box and pulling out some books. "But things changed."
She sighed, her fox ears twitching faintly. "I get it. I really do. You want space to deal with… everything. The vampire thing. The blood. The powers."
Lucifer didn't answer, just gave a slight shrug as he placed the books on a shelf.
"But are you sure you want to be alone?" she asked, stepping closer. "You're still new to this. The urges, the cravings… they'll hit harder than you think. And if you're too far—if something happens—I won't be able to reach you in time."
Lucifer glanced at her over his shoulder. "I'm fine. It's weird, but it doesn't feel overwhelming. Honestly… it's like I've always had this in me. I'm just… used to it."
Francisca raised an eyebrow. "You're handling it way too well for a fledgling. That's not normal."
"Guess I'm built different." He smirked.
She didn't laugh. "Still… be careful. One wrong move, one slip-up… and the hunters will come for you."
Lucifer paused. His hand froze mid-air as he unpacked a frame. He looked down, quiet for a second.
"Hunters," he muttered. "You've mentioned them before."
"They're not just a story, Lu. They don't care if you're new, or if you're 'handling it.' They kill first, ask questions never."
Lucifer exhaled, eyes flicking up to meet hers. "I'll keep that in mind."
Francisca nodded and started helping him unpack without another word. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was thick with unspoken things. Fears. Worries. Hope.
Outside, the wind brushed through the trees.
Back At Campus
"I guess Lucifer doesn't need your help anymore," Ken muttered as he flopped onto the couch, stretching his legs and holding out his hand.
Mob didn't need words. He grabbed the bourbon from the table and tossed it over. Ken caught it smoothly, popped the cap, and took a long swig.
Remu, who had just walked in, froze mid-step. Her brows drew together. "What do you mean by that?"
She was already halfway through preparing a temporary daylight spell for Lucifer. After all, convincing a newly turned vampire to rely on her magic? That was a perfect setup—power and control. Mob had talked her into it. And now this?
"What he means," a voice chimed in, "is that your spell won't be necessary."
Angel walked in casually, flipping through a thick book in her hands. Her tone was sharp but calm, like she enjoyed breaking bad news. "Lucifer was gifted something called a daylight ring. Apparently, he's already out and about under the sun."
Remu's heart skipped. Her eyes twitched, but she kept her face neutral.
A daylight ring?
Her mind spun. Impossible.
Her mother—the head of the Lunar Bloom Coven—had spent decades trying to track down the original design. If they could replicate it, they'd control the vampire market. All those bloodsuckers relying on temporary spells? That meant money. Influence. And now some random guy, freshly turned, already had one?
"Daylight ring?" Remu asked innocently, tilting her head like she'd never heard of it before. "That lets vampires walk in the sun, right?"
Mob gave her a look. "Didn't Ken just say that like two minutes ago?"
Ken raised the bottle. "Cheers to selective hearing."
Remu ignored them, her mind still racing.
"Where'd he get it?" Mob asked, cutting through the noise.
"Francisca said it was from a girl named Temmy," Angel replied, eyes still on her book. "No idea who she is though. The name doesn't ring any bells."
Remu turned toward the window, pretending to be uninterested. But deep inside, something twisted.
Temmy, huh? Whoever you are, you just made things complicated.
Lucifer wiped the sweat from his brow and cracked open a cold soda, the hiss echoing slightly in the quiet apartment. He took a long sip, then leaned back against the kitchen counter, eyes following Francisca as she headed for the door.
"I'll be going now. I've got class in like, thirty minutes," she said with a soft smile, brushing her hair behind her ear. "See you later this evening?"
"Yeah, sure," Lucifer nodded, watching her disappear down the hallway.
The second the door clicked shut, everything about him shifted. The laid-back expression faded. He dropped the soda onto the table, eyes narrowing as a slow grin crept onto his face.
"Alright..." he muttered, stretching his arms as he stepped over to the window, looking out at the quiet street below. "Now we begin."
This wasn't just about survival anymore. It was bigger than that.
He was a vampire now. And not just any vampire—Progenitor bloodline. Incomplete or not, that came with weight. Eyes would be on him soon. Maybe enemies. Maybe worse. The hunters, the covens, the clans. He didn't know who exactly, but he could feel it in his bones—he'd stirred something.
Which meant there was only one thing to do.
Get strong. Fast.
"But first…" he opened the system interface with a thought. Lines of quests greeted him. A lot. He smirked. "Might as well clear some of these."
Quests meant rewards. Rewards meant stats, items, maybe even new skills. Everything he needed to stop being someone who reacts—and become someone everyone else reacts to.
After that?
"A network," he whispered to himself, stepping back into the living room. "A web of people I can trust… and use."
He sat on the couch, fingers drumming against his knee, already thinking ahead.
"Vampires. Spirits. Witches. Even humans. If they've got value, I'll bring them in."
Because one thing was clear—Lucifer wasn't going to be just another vampire in the crowd.
He was going to be the one standing above them all.