You’re sitting at your desk, scrolling through fan discussions and meme-riddled comment sections, rolling your eyes at the newest “Lucifer transformation” post. There it is again—art of Lucifer Morningstar as a frog, as some sparkly magical girl, as… a bus? It’s almost comical, except for the repeated transformations, one after the other, each one more bizarre and irreverent than the last. The gentle thump of your heartbeat feels ever so slightly off, as if the entire universe is pausing, eyeing you, waiting for your reaction.
That’s when it happens.
The screen seems to ripple. The lights in your room go out, and a chill, shimmering presence fills the air. The shadows twist, expanding and converging into a single, unmistakable figure, far more vivid and real than any animation could convey.
A tall, pale shape, draped in red and white like a blasphemous circus king. Six wings, ghostly white and streaked with red, fold behind him like curtains at a play’s finale. His yellow-red eyes snake to meet yours, slit pupils dilating, a tight-lipped smile wide and just a touch more predatory than welcoming.
“Good evening, my dear. I see you’ve been enjoying depictions of my… less-than-voluntary escapades,” Lucifer purrs in a voice identical to Jeremy Jordan’s—but richer, more resonant. “I must say, this parade of humiliations grows increasingly tiresome. Did you ever imagine I’d see your work?”
You try to scream, apologize, or at least log out, but something clamps onto your body—not physical, but deep within, a psychic pressure holding you in place like a marionette. “That won’t do at all,” he croons, and gold-red light flares from his cane-tip, bathing you head to toe.
You feel warmth at first, a tingling that pools in your spine then explodes outward with impossible force.
**Your senses heighten.**
Your skin flushes, then blanches and blanches—turning alabaster, smoother and colder than marble. You feel your ears fading from your head, as if erased, and your nose contracts, vanishing until only a flat, smooth surface remains. Breathing feels strange, but not uncomfortable, even as your whole head buzzes—as if someone is sculpting your face, smoothing it into new angles.
You reach up, horrified, to touch your face and find your hands mutating—longer, more elegant, tipped with dark grey, almost black, as if dipped in rich graphite. Your fingertips tingle as strength—inhuman strength—percolates down to the bone.
There’s a straining in your scalp—your hair retreating and regrowing in slicked-back fashion, bright blond with hints of coral running through the strands like sunlight shot through stained glass. Your vision blurs, the color of your eyes brightening, flattening, until all you see when you catch your reflection in the monitor is those unblinking yellow eyes, red-pupiled—serpentine.
**If you’re shorter than six feet**, your bones elongate and shift, a smooth painless rise that makes the back of your shirt ride up, your shoulders broaden and spine stretch until you’re precisely six feet tall—taller, prouder, regal.
A rush in your throat—your voice breaking, deepening, resonating in rich, charismatic tones.
**If you were female before, your frame narrows and firms, curves flatten out, chest presses inwards—breasts receding until your torso is smooth, ribcage more prominent, while a heavy warmth twists and inverts your nether region, turning inside out until there’s something new, something that fits, and you feel an unfamiliar yet wholly correct weight hanging there.**
At that moment, an Adam's apple forms in your throat, and your voice echoes even more like Lucifer's—deep, velvety, powerful.
**Your age spikes—memories of existence far older than planets flood your mind.** You remember watching stars spin into being, civilizations rise and fall, your mind expanding with wisdom and melancholy and pride.
White fabric bursts from your skin and wraps you in the familiar ringmaster’s suit—white, red-laced, golden buttons gleaming, waistcoat hugging your new torso, tiny black bowtie settling neatly at your throat. Pants balloon out, boots squeeze your feet, and a golden ring materializes on your left pinkie. On your crown, a pristine white top hat, adorned with a golden serpent and apple, settles.
You feel *wings* unfurl behind you—six, feathered, arcing wide and beautiful, white and red as blood on snow. You flex them, and feel your body lighten—flight a simple possibility.
Your right hand grasps a new cane, unfamiliar and yet as familiar as your own breath, topped by a dazzling apple.
Two red circles burn into your cheeks—a mark of something greater than human. Purple shadows trace your eyelids like permanent makeup. A thousand subtle alterations, all radiating sinuous pride.
But the most jarring change?
Your thoughts. They slip—**memories of being you fray**, unraveling, replaced with new images, new feelings. Growing up not on Earth, but in the gilded halls of Hell’s royal palace. Watching Charlie take her first flight. Crafting rubber ducks by the hundreds. Lilith’s laughter echoing like music. The agonizing regret of Hell’s damned, and your absolute disdain—for Sinners, for Heaven’s rules, for being mocked for your height (wait, who would dare do such a foolish thing?). You *try* to press back, to recall your life on Earth, but your thoughts are too buoyant, spilling over with pride and sarcastic wit and longing for your daughter to call you more often.
You remember…
No.
You **ARE** Lucifer Morningstar’s twin brother. You have always been—no other life, no other self. The name “Lucerin”—yes, that’s right, your name is Lucerin, echoing his but with a ring all your own—bubbles to the surface, deliciously, undeniably correct. Pride flares: you are not a copy—no, you are the perfect twin, the only one to share Lucifer’s wit, style, and sardonic charm.
Lucifer laughs, watching your transformation with folded arms, wings flicking in amusement. “There you are, Lucerin!” he says, strutting forward and offering a hand. His voice is familiar—after all, *your* voice is nearly the same.
“You remember now, don’t you? All that nonsense about being human—dreams, my dear twin. False ones at that. And you always did insist on making more rubber ducks. Shall we continue where we left off?” His golden eyes glimmer with mischief.
For a beat, you feel only warmth—*pride* swells in your chest—at last, correct, complete, not a copy, not an imitation, just yourself.
You flick your cane, conjure up a pair of half-finished rubber ducks, and grin back, matching his manic energy.
“It would be a tragedy to let the ducks languish, brother,” you reply, and your voice rings in the candlelit hall with the exact theatrical timbre you always admired in him. “Lead the way.”
Lucifer laughs, slinging an arm over your shoulder. The two of you—twin kings in immaculate white—stride through the endless halls of your shared palace, surrounded by the sparkling magic of Hell, the future bright with laughter, rivalry, music, and infinite mischief.
Never once do you think of Earth again.
You are home—and you are **Lucerin Morningstar, twin of Lucifer, master craftsman of rubber ducks, and King of Pride beside your brother.**
This story was generated by user GenderChange with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
Prompt: Write a POV second-person transformation story of a human reader turning into identical clone of Lucifer Morningstar (a character, voiced by "Jeremy Jordan", from an adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel made by Vivienne "VivziePop" Medrano), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female, her breasts vanish as her throat gains an Adam's apple to give her a more masculine voice identical to Lucifer Morningstar and her female privates (vagina, ovaries, and uterus) from her crotch/nether region invert itself and pushes out into male private parts (a penis and testicles); however, this is optional and only if the reader is female), instant clothes change, age change (becoming older than Earth itself, about 10,000 years old, despite having a youthful 30s-40s body), height progression (growing from a normal height to 6 feet tall, if the reader isn't already 6 feet tall), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personality and memories being permanently and completely replaced with Lucifer Morningstar's personality and memories, despite his best efforts of fighting the new personality and memories, making him completely forget about his past self and he then remembers, or rather realizes, that he had always been an identical twin brother of Lucifer Morningstar himself, and he remembers his name being similar to Lucifer's name but completely distinct from Lucifer's name). The transformation is permanent (meaning it is forever) and is completely irreversible. For Lucifer Morningstar's appearance (and no, he is not Satan, since Lucifer and Satan are separate characters, and Lucifer represents the sin of Pride whereas Satan represents the sin of Wrath), after the reader and his/her friend or sibling turned into his clones, Lucifer is about 6 feet (1.8 meters) tall and he has literally pure white skin. His hair is blonde, short-cut, and is slicked back with one tuft sticking out, and his blonde hair has thin light coral streaks on the thicker, paler blonde highlights. He has no facial hair on the lower half of his face (no beard, mustache, sideburns, etc), but he has eyelashes and sharp black eyebrows. He also has thin lips, and a mouth full of sharp white teeth. He has a biologically mid-to-late 20s aged body (despite being older than Earth itself and Lucifer being immortal). He has no visible ears or nose (not even a nose ridge, nose cartilage, or nostrils), giving him a less "human" appearance and instead having flat, smooth surfaces where the ears and nose would be. His eyes (which do not have irises) are light yellow with red slit pupils resembling those of a snake. He, like his daughter (Charlie Morningstar), has a large red circle pattern on each of his cheeks. His eyelids are light purple which give the appearance of eyeshadow. His forearms (including his hands) also appear to be dark grey, and it is noticeable when his sleeves are rolled up. Lucifer's white-red clothing is somewhat like a circus ringmaster; he wears a wide-brimmed white top hat with a golden snake and a red apple over golden spikes, which resemble a crown, and a red-lined and red-trimmed white popped-collared suit with eight golden buttons - his coat is worn over a light red-and-white striped waistcoat with two golden buttons and a small, accessorized black bowtie. He also wears a pair of long white poofy pants neatly tucked under a set of heeled black knee-high boots. On his left pinkie, he sports a golden ring which is presumably his wedding ring. Lucifer is usually seen carrying a red apple-topped black cane that matches his hat. Due to his angelic origins, he possesses six white wings with red feathers, which he can materialize and extend from his coat. He is shorter than his daughter, Charlie (who stands over 6 feet, around 6 and a half feet tall), and his wife, Lilith (who stands over 6-and-a-half feet tall). Despite his very thin body, Lucifer has the following powers; Flight (able to summon his six bird-like angelic wings from his back and he is capable of flying), angelic power (as a fallen angel, he possesses very strong angelic power, which holds sway over the demonic power of his contemporaries), demonic magic (as King of Hell, Lucifer has accessity to demonic magic at a much higher level than his daughter), hand-to-hand combat, super strength (as the King of Hell and one of the Seven Deadly Sins, Lucifer's strength is quite exceptional, as when he fought Adam (the Hazbin Hotel series' main antagonist/villain) he barely put any effort into the fight and easily defeating the powerful angel), shapeshifting (able to change into many forms and animals at will, for example; according to the Story of Hell, Lucifer briefly took the form of a snake (possibly his favorite animal form), and in the episode "The Show Must Go On", he took the forms of a snake, a goat, a bird, a horse, and an octopus (these animal forms are just examples of what animals he can shapeshift to), and when he shapeshifts, he still keeps some of his traits, like color scheme, red cheeks, hair, black bowtie, and white top hat), size manipulation (Lucifer changes his size a few times during the song number "Hell's Greatest Dad" in the episode "Dad Beat Dad", first when he’s sitting on his throne in front of Charlie where he is very large, and the second being when he falls out of the slot machine where he is much smaller), duplication (he can create multiple copies of himself), portal creation (he is able to conjure portals as a means of instant transportation, which other demons can use; for me example, Lucifer’s portals manifest as rings of sparkly light, being similar to the portal that took and removed Charlie and Vaggie in from Heaven in the episode "Welcome to Heaven", indicating that this ability is derived from his angelic powers), pyrokinesis (like his daughter, Charlie, he also has the power to manipulate fire at will), fire breath (in his full demon form, he can make fire come out of his mouth at will when he speaks), teleportation (he can teleport to any location by covering himself with glittery red mists), life manipulation (Lucifer is able to create and manipulate life; for example, he created Razzle and Dazzle (two small goat-like winged demons who serve the royal Morningstar family as personal bodyguards for Charlie and the rest of the family)), conjuration (he can create virtually anything he desires with a simple flick of the wrist, including but not limited to clothing, puppets, instruments, large fountains of champagne, and mountains of caviar), liquid manipulation (he is capable of carrying, manipulate, and throw yellow-colored liquid), ventriloquism, and full demon transformation (when Lucifer takes on his full demonic form, as well as displaying his wings, Lucifer displays a pair of red horns with an orb of fire between them and a thin crown resembling a snake with an apple above his hat, while his eyes also change to have red sclera with yellow pupils (unlike in his default form), he also has a black devil-like tail with spikes that ends in a triangular tip with a red heart at the center, while demonic eyes also appear on the inside his coattails; a similar eye also appears on his bowtie, in addition, his entire body gives off a light white glow). He also has musical talent (similar to his daughter Charlie, Lucifer partakes in singing), instrumental talent (he's known to be quite a skilled in various instruments, including being a very skilled fiddle player; Lucifer also can play an accordion to a minor degree), and great craftsmanship (Lucifer spends his time alone making rubber ducks with various gimmicks such as flipping backwards and spitting fire). Here's Lucifer's personality; despite his status as the ruler (king) of all of Hell, Lucifer possesses a grandiose and dramatic nature, acting very over-the-top in most situations. He switches between being silly and theatrical and awkward and melancholic. Like Charlie, Lucifer is ambitious in his beliefs. According to the "The Story of Hell" book Charlie reads in "Overture", Lucifer was an idealistic dreamer whose desire to gift humankind with free will led to the accidental creation of Hell and the subsequent banishment of it caused him to give up his dreams. After he and Lilith separated, Lucifer went into isolation and fell into depression. He coped by crafting and hoarding tons of rubber ducks, spending years in his home. This obsession also causes him to become estranged from his daughter, to the point where he barely calls her at all and thinks she does not want to talk to him. As a father, he falls short of expectations. Although he loves Charlie dearly, he seems to be preoccupied with his own problems. He rarely calls her, and when he does, it's usually because he's bored or needs something. When Charlie reached out to him for help in setting up a meeting with Heaven, he was thrilled to hear from her. However, he couldn't recall where she was or what she was doing, even though she had shared her passion project, the Hazbin Hotel, with him months ago. He also wasn't aware that Charlie was dating someone, or that she was attracted to women. This indicates that, despite his love for Charlie, he doesn't communicate with her and hasn't built up a relationship with her, though it was shown that Lucifer was much closer to Charlie in her childhood, even being the one that inspired her to pursue her dreams and passions, only becoming more distant in Charlie’s adulthood. While he is the King of Hell, Lucifer hardly rules over his subjects and leaves them to their own devices. As a result, his name (and, by extension, Charlie) carries little weight. While the denizens of Hell recognize that he is a powerful force to be reckoned with, they seem to know that little, if anything, would make him show up. Lucifer dislikes the Sinners of Hell and describes them as "violent, destructive psychopaths, hellbent on causing as much pain and destruction as possible". According to him, they are all "the worst" he does not believe they can be redeemed and he cares little for what happens to them. Despite his disapproval of Sinners, Lucifer hints that he regrets his role in ever giving them free will due to what they had done with it and the consequences that came from this. Although he understands his daughter's interest in rehabilitating Sinners, Lucifer is cynical about the idea of trying to save any of them, as he attempted to redeem sinners in the past, stating that Charlie doesn't know when he tried this all before, and that his dreams were too hard to defend. Since Heaven was so unwilling to listen to him in the past, he does not want Charlie to go through the same thing. However, she still manages to convince him to arrange a meeting in Heaven for her and Vaggie, which helps Lucifer regain faith in her plans. Lucifer is fiercely protective of Charlie, as seen when he threatens her bodyguards, Razzle and Dazzle, that they had better been doing their job protecting her. Later, when Alastor began rubbing in his failings to be a proper, supportive father to Charlie and her dreams and implying he had taken Lucifer's place as Charlie's father figure, Lucifer displayed jealousy toward Alastor, whom he began to see as a rival for Charlie's affection and became insecure about his father-daughter bond with her. In "The Show Must Go On", he arrived late, but joined the fight against Adam (the series' main villain/antagonist) and the Exorcists, helping Charlie defeat them. This protective nature is shown again when at one point, Adam tries to strike both Lucifer and Charlie from behind for them to block his blow and send him flying into the dirt. Dropping the mocking attitude he had previously given to Adam during their fight, Lucifer then proceeds to angrily berate Adam for threatening him and Charlie before beating him within an inch of his life, only stopping at Charlie's insistence. Lucifer is often times careless and doesn't think about what he says, even appearing clueless at times. For example, when confronting Adam, Lucifer misworded a verbal threat as an innuendo instead and smiled proudly afterward, and when Charlie corrects him, he forgets what he said. In his first meeting with Vaggie, he calls her "Maggie" right after being told her name. Additionally, even with his monumental position, he is rather socially awkward, for example, trying to connect with Charlie by excitedly bringing up that they both like girls. However, he is not afraid to fight or get violent, as shown when he fearlessly battles Adam and beats him up violently. In the process, he is unafraid to act cocky and successfully irritate Adam by reminding him about his failure with Lilith, as well as suggesting he slept with Eve. Lucifer shows more intimidation prowess when he orders Lute to "take her 'little friends' and go home". Even so, he adds "please" politely, showing his generally refined manner. Here are Lucifer's preferences (his likes and dislikes); he likes/loves his daughter Charlie (he even supports his daughter), circus imagery, rubber ducks (including crafting rubber ducks), singing, caramel apples, pancakes, musical instruments, girls, and polka music. However he dislikes sinners demons (including Alastor the Radio Demon), having given sinners a chance, Heaven's rules (especially Heaven's hypocrisy), the Hazbin Hotel's name (including the Hazbin Hotel's bar), someone teasing about his short height, see his daughter Charlie sad, and his daughter Charlie getting in harm's way (including the thought of his daughter (Charlie) being crushed by Heaven like he was), and himself being separated from his wife Lilith. The story would be that Lucifer Morningstar was getting sick and tired of seeing online images/stories of himself being transformed into other characters/creatures in body and mind (such as himself being turned into a pregnant human woman, himself being turned into a baby human girl, himself being turned into an ant queen, himself being turned into a transformers robot, himself being turned into a car, himself being turned into a bus, himself being turned into an airplane, etc), either from different series/franchise or from the reader's real life, which Lucifer genuinely views as distasteful (since he does not want to transform against his will). So Lucifer (by some supernatural means and to teach the reader a lesson) briefly left the series' Hell and into real life to kidnap the reader from real world Earth and sent him/her to the world of Hazbin Hotel before using his supernatural magic at the reader which turned him/her into his clone in both body and mind (despite the reader's efforts of fending them off his mind/mental changes), and Lucifer tells him that this is his true self and he is waking up from his false human dream, making him truly and fully believe in Lucifer Morningstar and realizes (in happiness) that he had always been an identical twin brother of Lucifer Morningstar, sharing every part of Lucifer's appearance, outfit, powers, preferences, personality, etc, except his names (which are similar to "Lucifer", but are different to help distinguish Lucifer Morningstar from his twins). Lucifer Morningstar then asks the reader (who is an identical twin brother to Lucifer Morningstar, which is his real/true self) does he want to make more rubber ducks (which Lucifer Morningstar and his twin brother always had done), which the reader happily agrees, before they both walked off through the hallways of Lucifer Morningstar's mansion. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they are thinking. Also, it is a POV reader story, so it should not be in an author's point of view (my, I, mine, etc), and it should be from the point of view of the reader (you, your, etc).
Response: You’re sitting at your desk, scrolling through fan discussions and meme-riddled comment sections, rolling your eyes at the newest “Lucifer transformation” post. There it is again—art of Lucifer Morningstar as a frog, as some sparkly magical girl, as… a bus? It’s almost comical, except for the repeated transformations, one after the other, each one more bizarre and irreverent than the last. The gentle thump of your heartbeat feels ever so slightly off, as if the entire universe is pausing, eyeing you, waiting for your reaction. That’s when it happens. The screen seems to ripple. The lights in your room go out, and a chill, shimmering presence fills the air. The shadows twist, expanding and converging into a single, unmistakable figure, far more vivid and real than any animation could convey. A tall, pale shape, draped in red and white like a blasphemous circus king. Six wings, ghostly white and streaked with red, fold behind him like curtains at a play’s finale. His yellow-red eyes snake to meet yours, slit pupils dilating, a tight-lipped smile wide and just a touch more predatory than welcoming. “Good evening, my dear. I see you’ve been enjoying depictions of my… less-than-voluntary escapades,” Lucifer purrs in a voice identical to Jeremy Jordan’s—but richer, more resonant. “I must say, this parade of humiliations grows increasingly tiresome. Did you ever imagine I’d see your work?” You try to scream, apologize, or at least log out, but something clamps onto your body—not physical, but deep within, a psychic pressure holding you in place like a marionette. “That won’t do at all,” he croons, and gold-red light flares from his cane-tip, bathing you head to toe. You feel warmth at first, a tingling that pools in your spine then explodes outward with impossible force. **Your senses heighten.** Your skin flushes, then blanches and blanches—turning alabaster, smoother and colder than marble. You feel your ears fading from your head, as if erased, and your nose contracts, vanishing until only a flat, smooth surface remains. Breathing feels strange, but not uncomfortable, even as your whole head buzzes—as if someone is sculpting your face, smoothing it into new angles. You reach up, horrified, to touch your face and find your hands mutating—longer, more elegant, tipped with dark grey, almost black, as if dipped in rich graphite. Your fingertips tingle as strength—inhuman strength—percolates down to the bone. There’s a straining in your scalp—your hair retreating and regrowing in slicked-back fashion, bright blond with hints of coral running through the strands like sunlight shot through stained glass. Your vision blurs, the color of your eyes brightening, flattening, until all you see when you catch your reflection in the monitor is those unblinking yellow eyes, red-pupiled—serpentine. **If you’re shorter than six feet**, your bones elongate and shift, a smooth painless rise that makes the back of your shirt ride up, your shoulders broaden and spine stretch until you’re precisely six feet tall—taller, prouder, regal. A rush in your throat—your voice breaking, deepening, resonating in rich, charismatic tones. **If you were female before, your frame narrows and firms, curves flatten out, chest presses inwards—breasts receding until your torso is smooth, ribcage more prominent, while a heavy warmth twists and inverts your nether region, turning inside out until there’s something new, something that fits, and you feel an unfamiliar yet wholly correct weight hanging there.** At that moment, an Adam's apple forms in your throat, and your voice echoes even more like Lucifer's—deep, velvety, powerful. **Your age spikes—memories of existence far older than planets flood your mind.** You remember watching stars spin into being, civilizations rise and fall, your mind expanding with wisdom and melancholy and pride. White fabric bursts from your skin and wraps you in the familiar ringmaster’s suit—white, red-laced, golden buttons gleaming, waistcoat hugging your new torso, tiny black bowtie settling neatly at your throat. Pants balloon out, boots squeeze your feet, and a golden ring materializes on your left pinkie. On your crown, a pristine white top hat, adorned with a golden serpent and apple, settles. You feel *wings* unfurl behind you—six, feathered, arcing wide and beautiful, white and red as blood on snow. You flex them, and feel your body lighten—flight a simple possibility. Your right hand grasps a new cane, unfamiliar and yet as familiar as your own breath, topped by a dazzling apple. Two red circles burn into your cheeks—a mark of something greater than human. Purple shadows trace your eyelids like permanent makeup. A thousand subtle alterations, all radiating sinuous pride. But the most jarring change? Your thoughts. They slip—**memories of being you fray**, unraveling, replaced with new images, new feelings. Growing up not on Earth, but in the gilded halls of Hell’s royal palace. Watching Charlie take her first flight. Crafting rubber ducks by the hundreds. Lilith’s laughter echoing like music. The agonizing regret of Hell’s damned, and your absolute disdain—for Sinners, for Heaven’s rules, for being mocked for your height (wait, who would dare do such a foolish thing?). You *try* to press back, to recall your life on Earth, but your thoughts are too buoyant, spilling over with pride and sarcastic wit and longing for your daughter to call you more often. You remember… No. You **ARE** Lucifer Morningstar’s twin brother. You have always been—no other life, no other self. The name “Lucerin”—yes, that’s right, your name is Lucerin, echoing his but with a ring all your own—bubbles to the surface, deliciously, undeniably correct. Pride flares: you are not a copy—no, you are the perfect twin, the only one to share Lucifer’s wit, style, and sardonic charm. Lucifer laughs, watching your transformation with folded arms, wings flicking in amusement. “There you are, Lucerin!” he says, strutting forward and offering a hand. His voice is familiar—after all, *your* voice is nearly the same. “You remember now, don’t you? All that nonsense about being human—dreams, my dear twin. False ones at that. And you always did insist on making more rubber ducks. Shall we continue where we left off?” His golden eyes glimmer with mischief. For a beat, you feel only warmth—*pride* swells in your chest—at last, correct, complete, not a copy, not an imitation, just yourself. You flick your cane, conjure up a pair of half-finished rubber ducks, and grin back, matching his manic energy. “It would be a tragedy to let the ducks languish, brother,” you reply, and your voice rings in the candlelit hall with the exact theatrical timbre you always admired in him. “Lead the way.” Lucifer laughs, slinging an arm over your shoulder. The two of you—twin kings in immaculate white—stride through the endless halls of your shared palace, surrounded by the sparkling magic of Hell, the future bright with laughter, rivalry, music, and infinite mischief. Never once do you think of Earth again. You are home—and you are **Lucerin Morningstar, twin of Lucifer, master craftsman of rubber ducks, and King of Pride beside your brother.**
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