The Netherworld was not a place of peace.
It was a realm where ambition devoured the weak, where nobles plotted in shadows, and where power alone defined existence.
And somewhere within that vast, dangerous world—
A new life had quietly begun.
---
Inside the grand obsidian palace of the MorningStar family, silence stretched across vast halls carved from black crystal and ancient stone.
Within a chamber bathed in dim violet light—
A child lay awake.
---
Lucien MorningStar stared upward, his tiny eyes reflecting the unfamiliar world around him.
But unlike a normal baby…
His thoughts were clear.
*So I really died…*
Fragments of memory flickered—sirens, screams, the crushing weight of impact.
*…and now I'm here.*
His small fingers moved slightly, as if testing reality itself.
*And these… are definitely not my hands.*
---
A soft laugh broke his thoughts.
"Look at him," his mother whispered gently.
---
Lucien turned his gaze.
She was beautiful—otherworldly.
Long midnight-black hair flowed down her back, shimmering faintly with violet hues. Her crimson eyes softened every time they landed on him. Elegant horns curved gracefully from her temples, giving her an aura of both nobility and warmth.
She leaned closer, carefully lifting him into her arms.
Her touch was warm.
Steady.
Safe.
"Lucien…" she murmured softly, as if tasting the name again. "Do you like it?"
Lucien blinked.
…I don't really have a choice, do I?
Still—
Something about her voice eased the tension in his mind.
She gently brushed a finger against his cheek.
"So quiet… not crying at all," she said with a faint smile. "He's different."
A deeper voice answered from behind.
"He's observing."
Lucien's eyes shifted.
His father.
Tall and imposing, his very presence made the air feel heavier. Silver-white hair framed a sharp, composed face, and his golden eyes held a quiet intensity. The curved horns on his head only added to his overwhelming aura.
Yet—
He wasn't looking at Lucien like a heir.
He was looking at him like a father.
"Most newborns cry or panic," he continued, stepping closer. "But he's… watching everything."
Lucien froze for a split second.
…Did he notice something?
His mother chuckled softly.
"You're overthinking it," she said, rocking Lucien gently. "He's just calm."
The father didn't immediately respond.
Instead, he stepped closer to the cradle and crouched slightly, bringing himself to Lucien's level.
For a moment—
They simply looked at each other.
Lucien stared back.
Yeah… this guy's dangerous.
Then—
Unexpectedly—
His father extended a single finger.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Lucien instinctively reached out.
His tiny hand wrapped around that finger.
The father paused.
"…He's strong," he said quietly.
"Strong?" the mother repeated with a small laugh. "He can barely hold your finger."
"No," the father said, his gaze steady. "His grip… it's firm."
Lucien internally panicked.
Wait—am I using too much strength?!
He immediately loosened his grip slightly.
"…Or maybe I'm imagining things," the father added after a moment, pulling his hand back.
Lucien relaxed.
That was close…
Ding.
[Notice: Passive Skill "Raphael (Lord of Wisdom)" Activated.]
Information began flowing into his mind.
[Analyzing Environment…]
[Conclusion: Unknown energy present.]
[Conclusion: Compatible with subject.]
Unknown energy…?
[Notice: Skill "Gluttony" passively active.]
The energy in the room shifted.
Slowly.
Silently.
Flowing toward Lucien.
He stiffened.
I'm… absorbing it?
[Affirmative.]
At that same moment—
His mother's expression changed slightly.
"…It feels lighter again."
His father glanced around briefly.
Then shook his head.
"The flow is stable. It's nothing to worry about."
Lucien let out an internal sigh.
Good… they're not noticing.
His mother gently adjusted him in her arms, humming softly.
"Even if he's quiet… he's still just a baby," she said. "We shouldn't expect too much from him yet."
His father looked at Lucien again.
This time, his expression softened slightly.
"…No," he said. "We shouldn't."
But the way he said it—
Carried expectation.
Lucien noticed.
Yeah… I figured.
Then—
The door opened.
A presence entered.
Lucien's entire body went still.
…What is this?
This pressure—
It was different from his father's.
Heavier.
Deeper.
His grandfather.
Long dark hair streaked with silver, calm abyss-like eyes, and a presence that didn't need to be shown to be felt.
Even Lucien's father straightened slightly.
"Father."
His mother lowered her head respectfully.
"Welcome."
The old man walked forward without a word.
Each step was slow.
Measured.
Lucien immediately suppressed everything.
[Raphael: Reducing activity.]
[Gluttony: Minimal output.]
The old man stopped beside them.
He looked at Lucien.
Silence stretched.
Lucien didn't move.
Didn't react.
Didn't think.
"…Healthy," the old man said at last.
That was all.
His mother smiled softly, clearly relieved.
"I'm glad you came to see him."
The old man gave a small nod.
"He will grow well."
Lucien exhaled internally.
That guy is way more dangerous than the other one…
That night—
The palace transformed.
The grand hall was filled with powerful demons.
Laughter echoed.
Voices overlapped.
Wine flowed endlessly.
"The heir is born!"
"A new generation begins!"
"The MorningStar bloodline continues!"
Lucien lay quietly in an ornate cradle, surrounded by noise.
Watching.
Listening.
Learning.
His mother stood nearby, speaking with other noblewomen, though her eyes constantly returned to him.
His father stood among elders, calm and composed, yet clearly at the center of attention.
Lucien observed everything.
So this family… really is a big deal.
At the head of the hall—
His grandfather raised a glass.
"The heir of MorningStar has been born," he said calmly.
"He will carry our name forward."
No exaggerated pride.
No celebration in his tone.
Yet the entire hall fell silent.
Then—
Cheers erupted.
A week later—
Far from the palace—
A meeting took place.
The Crown Assembly
Fourteen figures sat upon massive thrones arranged in a circle.
Each one radiated authority.
Each one ruled.
Among them—
Names known across the realm:
Beelzebuth
Azazel Henri
Asmodeus Amaryllis
Baal
…and others of equal standing.
And among them—
Lucien's father.
"The MorningStar heir," Azazel Henri began.
"There were unusual reports."
Beelzebuth's voice followed,
"A disturbance at birth."
Asmodeus Amaryllis smiled faintly.
"Perhaps just a gifted child."
Baal leaned back slightly.
"Or something troublesome."
All eyes turned to Lucien's father.
He spoke calmly.
"My son is normal."
Silence.
No one could read his expression.
Then—
The air changed.
Heavier.
Four figures appeared.
They did not sit.
They did not speak at first.
They simply existed above the gathering.
Among them—
Lucien's grandfather.
And beside him—
Sullivan.
Sullivan smiled lightly.
"So this is about the MorningStar child?"
Lucien's grandfather replied calmly,
"Yes."
The others observed silently.
"Will he be interesting?" Sullivan asked.
A pause.
"He will grow," came the answer.
"Then we watch," another said.
"No interference," a third added.
Agreement.
Then—
Lucien's grandfather spoke one final time:
"The child is not to be touched."
No one objected.
Because no one could.
Back in the palace—
Lucien slept peacefully.
Unaware.
But inside—
His thoughts moved quietly.
This world… is definitely dangerous.
His tiny fingers curled.
Good.
[Notice: Skill "Copy" unused.]
[Next available use: Anytime.]
A faint smile appeared.
I'll grow slowly…
And choose carefully.