βπ π¨πππ₯ππ π₯π π‘π£π π₯πππ₯ πͺπ π¦ ππ£π π πππ. πΉπ¦π₯ ππ₯ ππ€ ππ ππ©ππ¦π€π ππ π£ ππͺ πππππ§ππ π¦π£β¦ πΈππ ππ π£ π₯πππ₯, π ππ‘π ππ πππ«π πππππ, πππππππ‘ππ π.β
β--Stop screwing around!β
Surely the ones responsible for the deeper mechanisms controlling his fate were mocking him at this point, they had to be; itβs by this very notion that the budding supreme primarch knows when heβs being placed in a humiliating position and canβt even do a single thing to rectify it all. --Again, againΒ he had only begun to take a more complacent approach with Lucifer after the last incident, and yet despite everything they had clarified between them, Sandalphon can only come to one unfortunate logical truth that his creator had chosen not to rely on him.Β
ββ¦ππ π¦βπ§π ππ£π π¨π. ππππ£π πππ πͺπ π¦ ππππ£π π₯π ππππ π€π¦ππ π€π₯π£ππππ₯π π¨ππ₯πππ πͺπ π¦π£π€πππ? β¦βππ£πππ‘π€ πβπ§π ππ¦ππ π₯π ππππ£π ππ£π π πͺπ π¦.β
Why did you lie?
Why did you outright lie to me?!
Heavy footfalls strike the pavement as Sandalphon rushes out of his home, mind spinning through the dialogue now plaguing his mind, his own maddening echo chamber; that their once heartfelt meaning comes crumbling down, that his core is filled to the brim with these anxieties...
He hasnβt felt this much betrayal since before he committed the many atrocities in search of selfish validation.
βπ π‘ππππ ππͺ ππππ₯π ππ πͺπ π¦ π₯πππ, π€π¦π‘π£πππ π‘π£ππππ£ππ πππππππ‘ππ π. πππ₯ π¦π€ π£ππ₯π¦π£π π₯π πππ₯πππ£ πππ ππ ππ€ππππ£ π π¦π£ πππ©π₯ ππ π¦π£π€π π π πππ₯ππ π.β
--But it had never happened.Β
This sudden backpedaling was so unprecedented, Sandalphon would never have expected Lucifer to do something like this, to just leave him behind despite having given him such honest recognition.Β
If I am the supreme primarch, if I have so much apparent control over the fates of others, why am I still the one so desperately trying to catch up to you?!
ββππ πͺπ π¦ π₯ππ π‘π π¨ππ£π€ π π π₯ππ π€π¦π‘π£πππ π‘π£ππππ£ππ ππ₯ πͺπ π¦π£ πππ€π‘π π€ππ, π₯πππ π₯πππ₯ π¨π π¦ππ ππ π₯ππ ππ π€π₯ π£πππ€π πππππ ππ π¦π£π€π π π πππ₯ππ π, πͺππ€β¦β
--And itβs then that the unwelcomed mixed messages conflicting him immediately extinguish his flame, and against what would most likely be his better judgement, lands him on the nearest rooftop just as he had taken flight. He stands at a devastating crossroads, wanting to justify his anger and pointing an accusatory finger at Lucifer again, but....
--..is it really his fault?
Wouldnβt this be exactly what Lucilius wanted out of this? To toy with their relationship and use the weakened Lucifer as his own Achilles's Heel to possibly take back his inheritance? To obtain those wings from him?
β--...... Hah.... What wings?β
As the glare of the sun beams down from the shifting cumulus above, the intense rays filtering through the bristling appendages at his back set ablaze to the earthen colored plumes and brush them with a shade of balmy orange...almost white to focused eye. But if only, right?
--Yes, thatβs exactly it.Β
In the end, he doesnβt even have the righteous mantel that gives him any sort of relevancy.Β In the end, heβs still the same hopeless spare just floundering about, just with a little more hopeless confidence in his stride.
Lucifer-sama...
Can you really not trust me without them...?
However, his heels remain rooted to the cracked and faded shingles beneath him, waves of unpleasant anxiety filtering throughout his entire being and immobilizing him with utter dread.
It isnβt until many, many moments later that he finally decides to retreat back, accepting this hard-hitting truth, and wondering just what his next course of action will even be....