Tower – Between the Floors
Lucifer sat motionless.
The blade in his hand wasn't a weapon—just a tool now. A simple, curved dagger. Not enchanted. Not named. The kind of thing you'd forget in a war chest. He used it anyway.
Scrape.
Again.
The edge slid across his palm, opening another shallow cut. Blood welled up, shimmered, then retreated back into his veins.
Scrape.
He wasn't doing it for pain. Pain was a joke to him now.
No.
He was testing something.
He'd started noticing it back on Floor 9—how the blood responded before he gave it command. Now, it pulsed with him. Moved without gesture. Reacted on instinct.
He called it Living Blood.
Not officially. The system didn't name it. But he knew it had changed. And he needed to understand it.
Lucifer closed his eyes.
Let his aura fade.
Then he inhaled slowly, held it… and exhaled.
The world around him faded into black silence.
Then he cut again.
This time, instead of just bleeding, he focused on feeling it.
