"That was intense..."
Two bodies hit the mat, panting like they'd just run a marathon. Mob and Ken laid there, drenched in sweat, staring at the ceiling like it held answers to life.
The gym lights buzzed quietly overhead. Their sparring match had been brutal, fast, and explosive—just the way they liked it.
Then, soft footsteps echoed in the room.
Angel walked in, a thick book in one hand, glasses sliding down her nose. She looked way too calm compared to the warzone vibe in the air.
"I still don't get why you came to college and never show up for class," she said, barely glancing at Ken. "It's your second year."
Ken gave a lazy grin, brushing sweat from his brow. "Exactly. Second year. I was full of energy in my first. That counts for something, right?"
Angel just sighed and found a spot by the wall, flipping her book open and ignoring him.
The door swung open again.
Lucifer stepped in, hands in his pockets, that usual casual arrogance dripping from every step.
"Yo," he said, voice smooth. "I'm looking for Remu. Any idea where she is?"
The room froze. Mob sat up. Ken blinked. Angel looked up over her glasses like he'd grown a second head.
Lucifer and Remu didn't exactly have what you'd call a 'friendly history.' Same with Ella. So hearing him ask for Remu like it was nothing?
Weird.
"She's in class. Should be done in an hour," Angel finally said, then paused. She narrowed her eyes. "Wait... Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?"
Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck with a half-smile. "Yeah, about that... Still trying to control my bloodlust. Probably not a good idea to sit in a room full of humans just yet, y'know?"
Angel scoffed and clicked her tongue. "Liar."
Lucifer gave a small shrug like, maybe, then walked past them and sat on the windowsill, staring outside, waiting.
"Hey, wanna have a friendly spar?" Ken called out from the floor, wiping sweat off his brow. "Might help you get used to that vamp strength of yours."
Lucifer turned slowly, eyeing him with interest.
He hadn't really tested himself since the turn. The power running through his body was new, wild, untamed. Ken wasn't a regular guy—dude could fight. But Mob… Mob was different. A Nephilim. Half-angel. Supposedly leagues above the rest. Still, books and movies didn't always match real life. He'd have to find out himself.
Lucifer smirked. "Well, I've got nothing better to do… I'm down."
Ken grinned and got up, stretching his neck with a loud crack. "Alright then, vampire boy. Try not to break the walls."
Mob moved to the side with a quiet chuckle, grabbing a towel and sitting next to Angel, who was still pretending to read but definitely watching.
The sparring mat creaked under Lucifer's bare feet as he stepped into the circle. He took off his coat and dropped it to the side, standing shirtless, lean and toned—more beast than boy.
Ken cracked his knuckles and dropped into a loose stance. "Don't hold back, yeah?"
Lucifer's red eyes gleamed. "I was about to say the same."
The moment the bell sound rang (courtesy of Mob tapping his phone), Ken dashed in. Fast. Strong. But Lucifer moved like smoke. He ducked the first swing, then slid around with a blur, throwing a punch that Ken barely blocked.
Boom!
The shockwave from the clash blew dust across the room, making Angel's pages flutter.
"Whoa," Mob muttered, eyes lighting up.
Ken was smiling now. His arm tingled from the block, and he could feel it—Lucifer wasn't just fast. He was heavy. Every hit carried unnatural weight.
"You've got hands," Ken said, wiping a trail of blood from his lip. "I like that."
Lucifer tilted his head, fangs flashing ever so slightly. "And you're tougher than you look."
Ken's grin stretched wider. His eyes flicked blue for a moment—werewolf instincts kicking in. He lunged again, this time faster, claws sprouting mid-swing as his hand came down in a savage arc.
Shiiing!
Lucifer tilted his body just in time, but Ken's claws grazed his side, ripping through skin. Blood sprayed. Black-red, thick, steaming slightly like it didn't belong in this world.
Lucifer winced but didn't stop. He leaned in and slammed his forehead into Ken's nose. Crack!
Ken staggered back, blood gushing down his face, and laughed. "Okay! Okay! That one hurt!"
Lucifer's eyes narrowed, glowing crimson now. He didn't wait—he flashed forward again, one foot sliding along the mat as he ducked low and punched Ken straight in the gut. Ken coughed, spitting blood, but didn't fall.
He caught Lucifer's arm before he could pull back and twisted it, dragging him into a brutal knee to the ribs. Lucifer flew back, skidding across the floor with a thud, coughing hard.
Angel flinched. Mob's expression sharpened, now more interested than amused.
Lucifer slowly stood, wiping blood from his mouth, breathing heavy. His shirt was in tatters, skin bruised and bleeding across his side and chest. He looked up at Ken with a wild glint in his eye.
Ken cracked his knuckles again, already healing, chest rising and falling with excitement. "You've got speed, but you're light. Gotta bulk up, vamp-boy."
Lucifer gave a small chuckle, wiped his face, and suddenly disappeared.
Boom!
He reappeared mid-air behind Ken and slammed both feet into his back, launching him forward like a missile. Ken crashed into the padded wall with a loud bang, cracking it.
"Lucifer!" Angel yelled, standing up.
But Ken stood too, blood trailing down his cheek, hair wild, smile even wider.
"Oh, now it's personal," he growled, his voice deepening, feral.
He rushed forward, faster than before. Their fists clashed in the center of the mat, shockwaves blasting out from the impact. Blood sprayed from both of them as they traded hit for hit—no dodging now, just raw power and speed. Claws raked skin, fangs sank into flesh for split seconds before they broke apart again.
They moved too fast for the eye to follow. Only flashes of motion, bursts of energy, and the dull roar of fists hitting flesh.
Ken managed to land a spinning kick to Lucifer's head, sending him tumbling, but Lucifer caught himself, flipped mid-air, and landed in a crouch, grinning with a trail of blood running down his chin.
Both of them were panting, bruised, bloodied—but standing.
Mob whistled, impressed. "That's a real fight."
Angel just crossed her arms, annoyed. "Idiots. One of them's gonna pass out."
Lucifer stood upright, cracking his neck. "This is fun."
Ken wiped blood from his brow, breathing hard but still smiling. "Yeah. It is."
They didn't need to say it, but both knew—they were far from done.