As far as procedure goes, the summons itself is nothing out of the ordinary. Proper and neat, with the detachment to send it through a sweet little letter rather than in person — but if it weren’t so wildly unexpected at the same time, maybe he wouldn’t treat it like a secret.
Lucifer busies himself with everything, more than that. Where his own role returns to shadows, he doesn’t remember a second he’s ever been out of the light of his pedestal. Every now and then, he contemplates on why Lucilius hadn’t ever given him a halo to let the difference in position sink in deeper.
What a sight it is, still: immaculate and holy creation, with his lips faintly downturned when he thinks nobody’s there to see the wear on the marble. Belial, in all of his imperfection, commits the image to memory; disrupts the silence with a clear of his throat, a smooth smile to mask the venom.
❛ Got your note, ❜ his words follow just as smoothly, paired alongside steps that bring him closer, yet set apart enough to show the ideal respect. ❛ Sooo, what’s eating at you, huh? Something must be riding that perfect frame of yours hard if you’re requesting my presence, Supreme Primarch. ❜ @overeternity / ♡