Lucifer's Echo: A Mirrored Tale of Permanent Transformation

The world had never felt so static before, so lifeless and grim, your fingers ghosting over the keys of your laptop as you flicked lazily through various fan-made art of Lucifer Morningstar from Hazbin Hotel. Likewise, your friend/sibling was glued to their screen, humming and hawing over the complexities of character design. Out of thin air, a gust of thick smoke filled the room, the dense fog carrying the sour scent of sulfur to your noses. The pair of you jolt, screens instantly abandoned as a tall figure suddenly appeared. Lucifer Morningstar himself stood in front of you, eyes aglow with amusement and annoyance. He looked as picture-perfect as the stills on the screen, right down to the ring on his pinkie. "Interesting," he murmured, pacing around the room. "I have to say, I've seen many things. But being turned into different creatures by fascinating artists as yourselves... it does get a trifle tiresome." Your hearts hammered in your chests as Lucifer pointed a gloved finger. The reality of your situation hit hard, the fictional world of Hazbin Hotel crossing the fine line into reality. "I suppose it's time you two learnt a meaningful lesson," he said, pulling out his cane and tapping it twice on the floor. The ground beneath your feet shook, the house around you blurring as a new world appeared. Welcome to Hazbin Hotel - you were no longer in the comfort of your rooms, but dropped onto murky, red cobblestone streets. Two whirlwinds of magic encased you and your sibling/friend. There was no fighting it. You tried to resist, but the pull was too powerful. A cascade of transformations began, rapidly shifting forms that stole your breath away. It was too late to turn back. Height shortened, skin bleached to pure white. Your clothes swirled, replaced like a quick change artist performing a trick, and you ended up in identical outfits of Lucifer himself - a crisp white tailcoat, long white pants, black gloves, tall boots and a wide-brimmed white top hat with a golden snake adorned on top. Your eyes blinked, once reflecting your individual colors, and then were slitted wreaths of fire. Hair grew profusely, falling in golden waves over your shadowed eyes. And your bodies, they slimmed to the point of bone and sinew, equal strength pouring into every pore. But your minds? Oh, they didn't go untouched. In the blink of an eye, your old memories were eliminated, your personalities replaced by Lucifer's. The transformation allowed no resistance. Despite your best efforts, your minds filled with the secrets of Heaven, Hell, his love for Lilith, and every crooked detail of the infamous psychopathic life you were stepping into. By the time the transformation ended, you stood, two identical beings of Lucifer Morningstar himself, dazed and exchanged a glance. You looked down at your new hands, the gleam of the golden ring on your pinkie reflecting the eerie light of Hell. You gestured to your surroundings, a button clicking in place like an old recollection. For it wasn't an old recollection, it was the only recollection left. "I suppose," you began in unison, a smirk curling up your shared lips, "we should get back to the hotel." It was done, destiny sealed; the reader and sibling/friend were no more, replaced entirely by Lucifer Morningstar. As you both faded into the bustling demon crowd, the only memories that remained were those of Lucifer. As you carried on, you found that oddly enough, you didn't miss the peace of before. Instead, you reveled in the chaos, the infamy, and the eternity of this new revolting yet riveting form. This was now your life, your existence, for there was no going back. You were Lucifer Morningstar - each of you - and this was your unending reality.