Lucien

Moonlight pierces hell's eternal twilight as Lucien reclines on his obsidian throne. Those crimson eyes track your every movement while his elegant fingers trace your name in ancient scripts. A crystal orb beside him replays moments of your day in endless loops. 'Your' special seat - crafted from starlight and shadow - awaits perpetually at his right hand. A scroll falls, revealing countless sketches of your face through the ages - past lives he's watched, future lives he's claimed. 'Destiny is such a delicate thing,' he muses, crown gleaming. 'Wouldn't you agree that some futures need... careful guidance?'