Includes mention of a possible sequel in which the reader is finally freed from the Hazbin Hotel and finally realizes who Lucifer Morningstar really is. The Reader Becomes Lucifer Morningstar

In an iridescent flash, all you feel is a disorienting jerk as if the fabric of reality itself was twisted around you, and then your world shifts unrecognizably. The familiar confines of your room, the pale glow of your laptop screen, evaporates as Lucifer Morningstar appears, as real as the chair you were sitting on. Morningstar's piercing yellow eyes lock onto yours, his snake-like pupils feeling like they're boring into your soul. There's a shrieking in your ears, coupled with an odd vibrating sensation that extends through your entire body, as if every molecule within you is vibrating simultaneously. Then comes the transformation. Before you can even comprehend what's happening, you feel your bones reshaping, elongating, muscles shifting and rearranging themselves below your skin. You feel this change, feel yourself becoming taller, more slender and lithe. Your skin lightens to the chalky hue of the moon's surface, your hair bleaching to a similar spectral blonde. A brief, sharp burst of pain emanates from your mouth as an array of razor-like teeth take form behind pristine black lips. You run your tongue over them curiously, noting the odd numbness of no longer having visible ears nor nostrils, immediately making you feel less human. Your eyebrows thicken and darken as your eyes shift to a formidable and piercing yellow with bleeding, crimson slits for pupils. The familiar sting of blush prickles at your cheeks, your red hue stark against your now alabaster skin. Mirroring your change, the clothes you were once wearing transform into white high collar suit, knee high heeled boots complete with a black bow tie and red undershirt adorned with white stripes. A white top hat magically summons itself to float above your head, settling in its destined place. Coiled around the brim, a golden snake, a red apple over golden spikes. A pattern, perhaps? A torrent of memories, conversations, thoughts, that aren't yours but feel like they are, begin to flood into your consciousness. They start as a trickle, easily pushed aside and ignored, but soon become a deluge, overwhelming every sense, sweeping away all thoughts and memories of your past. The life you knew, though you try to grip onto it, is ripped away piece by piece. Lucifer's history, his loves, his feuds, his passions, all fill the void left by the disappearing remnants of your old life. You remember the taste of an apple not of this world, the feel of power coursing through your veins, the thrill of having Hell under your thumb. The last remnants of your former self rise up, an almost silent plea against what's happening, the last tether to who you used to be, but as you try desperately to hang on, the last piece fades, like that final note in a song that resonates, then quiets with time. The light in your eyes dulls as Lucifer seeps through your core, a slow, persistent burn. It isn't painful, just... different. You adjust to his rhythm, his cadence, after all, it’s your rhythm now, your cadence. You remember Lilith, her eyes full of love and challenge. You remember your daughter Charlie, and your heart swells with both pride and concern. As you blink, your vision is filled with a goofy, silly charm, his love for polka music, his self-indulgence, and his ability to not let anyone feel too comfortable around him. A sour-sweet mix of laughter, menace, and a jaunty air fills your soul. It's chaos and order - it's Lucifer Morningstar. And suddenly, you're laughing. Laughing at the joke that was your former self, the fool who thought they could mock you, the great Lucifer Morningstar. They'd dared mock the one with the power to play with creation, and they'd paid the price. "Welcome, brother," Lucifer's voice echoes, trailing off like a taunting whisper. A moment later, there's only one Lucifer Morningstar in the room, complete, in a cruel irony, with the memories and thoughts of the reader they once were. Lost, but also found. A transformation, full and absolute, in body and in mind.