"Wowzers," I breathed, taking in the view before me. I was in a really strange place, but it was also really cool. There was an enormous building in front of me, with a huge open sky above it. I had

Pardon the slight intrusion from the other side, dear reader! Your vision blurred, your senses swam, as if you'd just blinked and found yourself in a wholly different world. The veneer of reality seemed to split as a figure clad in monochromatic attire, embellished with hints of regal crimson, advanced towards you. His complexion eerily alabaster, and his appearance strikingly alien yet eerily beautiful—this was Lucifer Morningstar himself, no less. "Today, we dance to a different tune, one rather audacious," his voice cut through the air like a razor, a devilish grin plastered across his face. Floating towards the ceiling, his form took a shape you've instinctively dreaded—ever elusive and utterly enticing, capturing you in a dreadful fascination. His arms spread wide, and an illusionary snake made of golden energy curled around his form, slithering in your direction. Lucifer's eyes gleamed in anticipation, uttering a spell that made your hair stand on end, "From mortal coil to infernal divine, let thy form be mine!" Your body shivered uncontrollably, the air crackling with electricity. Power surged and writhed within you, leaving you gasping for breath. Desperate to fight it, you tried clinging onto the remnants of the you that was vanishing piece by piece. But your efforts seemed naught against this overpowering essence. As Lucifer’s charisma imbued you, a duality of pleasure and terror swept over you. Your thoughts, your emotions, they were beginning to feel foreign. Even your form was changing. A fluttering sensation tickled at your scalp, and your hair cascaded down in voluminous waves of luciferous blonde. Your skin paled, bleaching into a paper-white hue, triggering a morphing process that could only be described as painful yet astonishingly enlightening. Your body seemed to stretch, taut like a tightly coiled spring, and then liberate with a rapid elevation in height. Your clothes followed this transformation too. The familiar fabric against your skin morphed into a crisp, white high collar suit, accompanied by heeled boots that added to your new-found stature. A black cane topped with an apple appeared in your hand. It was becoming increasingly difficult to resist the change—the might of Lucifer’s bearing intensifying with every passing moment. "Give in, my dear! Life as a mere mortal is a vexation. Walk as an equal among the infernal throng," Lucifer's words echoed within the depth of your ebbing consciousness. And then the last thread of your mortality snapped—your memories fluttered away evanescently, replaced by those of endless eons. Your lively eyes hollowed, turning into a fiery yellow with deep red slits, intensity burning through them. You tried screaming, but a foreign voice rang out—imploringly handsome and terrifyingly enclosing. "Arise, my new avatar—Lucifer, the Morningstar!" His words were yours; his memories were yours. Your past life became an unattainable illusion, fading into a distant echo. Rising to your feet—or were they Lucifer's now—you surveyed your reflections in the polished infernal mirrors. You acknowledged the sudden presence of regality and menace, a charming grin revealing a mouth full of pointed teeth. Even the indifferent corners of Hell seemed familiar—eerily, warpedly so. But this strangeness sent a jolt of thrill instead of fear—Lucifer's thrill, Lucifer's dominant, personality coursing through your veins. Your last thought as the mortal you once were left a profound promise, "Clean slate, a new dawn, a new Lucifer in Hazbin Hotel." This was a one-way dance with the devil; there was no turning back. With your final transformation, you had become the Lucifer Morningstar, ready to take on Hell, and perhaps, just a hint more of slightly comedic puns dripping with dry wit reserved for your beloved Lilith.