From Mortal to King of Hell: The Transformation of a Young Boy into Lucifer Morningstar "A Journey into the World of Hazbin Hotel, where Music and Magic Collide"

"Mom, Dad, something strange is happening!" An ordinary 11-year-old boy shouted, his voice echoing throughout his room despite the sudden hollowness that flooded his thoughts. The color of his room began shifting dangerously, the walls melting away to give place to an exotic, ethereal landscape. His heart pounded in his chest like a frantic drum. The familiar softness of his cotton shirt morphed into a slicker fabric. The collar shot up to his chin and his sleeves retracting themselves, becoming suit-like. His shorts elongated, turning into straight, white trousers. His sneakers morphed into a pair of knee-high heeled boots, making him look classy yet odd. The boy felt a peculiar sensation on his face. His gentle features were sharpening. His lips turned black, contrasting against the sudden pallor of his skin which highlighted his changing yellow eyes, their pupils elongating into malicious red slits. A sharp pain radiated from his mouth, his teeth reshaping into sharp needle-like points. "I'm changing!" He screamed again, his voice altering with each passing second, getting deeper and richer, until it wasn't recognizable even to himself. His soft brown hair lightened to a bright blonde color, adding an unnatural glow to his transforming features. Something wrapped around his neck, a bowtie forming from nothingness. His whole outfit solidified into an eccentric suit, a golden ring adorning his left pinkie. His height started to scale, himself growing taller and taller until, strangely, he found his incredible growth stopped at a height shorter than what he usually dreamt as an adult. “This isn’t– I can’t– ” He stammered, staggering. His bearings weren’t his anymore. His mind began to buckle under the onslaught of centuries-worth of memories, every corner of his mind filling up with tales of a legendary figure known as Lucifer Morningstar. His cries for his parents died down into a whimper as these memories seeped into his consciousness, edging out his past, aggressively coercing it out of existence. One by one, precious memories of his human life disintegrated like ash in the wind, replaced by the eternity outlined in hell, the tragedies and triumphs of Lucifer’s reign.  "No, I don't want to forget," The boy wailed, his voice falling on the deaf ears of the unimaginable reality unfolding around him. He was Lucifer Morningstar. Not a child or a boy of eleven years anymore but the King of Hell from Hazbin Hotel. Immortal. Eternal. There were no traces of the boy, each memory erased, leaving only the bountiful life of Lucifer. A ridiculous love for polka music seemed to echo in his mind, making the edges of his unfamiliar lips twitch into a smirk. Puns, they spewed effortlessly, gushing out with the confidence of a showman. A maestro of the underworld, Lucifer came alive, utterly jaunty yet menacing, completely relinquishing the boy, his spirit yielding to the inevitable reality of this transformation. His thoughts revolved around a woman, his Lilith, his wife, love stupendously written, a grand passion penned in the chronicles of hell that he was now an owner of. Somewhere inside, some semblance of the boy protested, hopeless cries of disbelief echoing through the void. But as his hand conjured up the cane, as the wide-brimmed top hat appeared over his head, even that part conceded defeat. “I am Lucifer Morningstar," the new Morningstar declared to the realm of Hazbin Hotel that began to replace the traces of his erstwhile realities. He no longer flinched at the unfamiliar sound of his curious voice, instead finding a strange comfort. "Welcome to my world!"