The Transformation: From Innocent Reader to Majestic King of Hell, Lucifer Morningstar

My day started like any other. I was seven, agruably a big boy, playing with my toy cars and engaging in fantastical flights of fancy. All was normal until I felt an intense heat engulf me. Before I could shout for Mum and Dad, my skin began to tingle, progressively altering its texture to something indestructibly smooth, taking on a new tone of a pure, ethereal white. In the mirror of my now ominously dark room, I noticed the changes: intense yellow eyes bisected by slits of red, staring back at me. I raised my new hand - if I could even call it that - to my eyes in disbelief. It wore an elegant black glove, contrasting starkly with my white skin. The sudden rush of vertigo knocked me sideways as I realized I was growing, my small boyish body stretching, altering, maturing into that of a powerful adult. Despite the shock, I fought the changes, calling desperately for Mum and Dad, clawing at my alien mind. But my pleas fell on deaf ears as my room warped and whirled around, static fuzzing the edges of my vision. I couldn’t see them, my vision obscured by the transformation of my reality into an underworldly realm which seemed to sprout from my new thoughts. The world of Hazbin Hotel was now my reality and my 'childhood' bedroom altered into a grand throne room. The faces of demons looked up at me with expectation and slight fear, their monstrous forms tainted with grim beauty. My meager cries tapered off as I realized I was not half the height I apparently were. I was tall, at least compared to the other demons, yet shorter than the two graceful figures beside me — Lilith and Charlie. As alien memories surged into my brain, I continued to struggle, desperately trying to remember who I once was: a seven-year-old human boy. But in the end, the mind of the man I was becoming completely overpowered my feeble attempts, scrubbing clean every childhood moment. I barely noticed as my blonde hair sprouted, framing a face with black lips and sharp teeth. The transformation concluded with the ideal king's attire materializing on my body: a white high collar suit with pristine black boots, a black bow tie, and a red striped undershirt. I felt the weight of a wide-brimmed white top hat settle on my head, adorned with a golden snake spiraling around a red apple. My left pinkie felt heavy now, hosting a golden ring. A black cane, matching my hat, appeared in my right hand — the top emblazoned with the same apple design. In the mirror, I could see who I became — Lucifer Morningstar. "I've done it again, haven't I?" My voice echoed across the room, padded with a tinge of amusement. Everyone seemed to drink in my words, eyeing me warily. I chuckled, a deep and resonating laugh, realizing they needn't fear me. It was their love, respect, and, to an extent, fear that brought me here. Then, a tilting wave of emotion hit me, making me gasp. It felt foreign, yet familiar at the same time. It was love; passionate, unyielding love for Lilith and a deep, paternal bond with Charlie. As I looked into Lilith's eyes, filled with an ancient fondness, I knew I was here to stay. I may have been a human boy, helpless and inexperienced, but now, I was Lucifer Morningstar, the immortal king of hell, dashing and playful. Never would I have believed a day would come when I'd no longer remember being a mortal human. But that day was here and all I remember now, all I am, was Lucifer Morningstar. And it felt oddly comfortable, like slipping into a character you never knew you already understood deeply. Everything felt right. I was right where I was supposed to be. It was, to my trepidation and odd excitement, a transformation that was here to stay forever. It was permanent. It was irreversible. Most importantly, it was me. "Time to run hell, shall we?" I said, flashing a devilish grin that mirrored my new identity.