The memory began to shift once more. The heavy sorrow of the cemetery faded, replaced by the dim light of a cramped, cluttered basement. The air was thick with the scent of decay and something sickly sweet, and the faint hum of a freezer filled the silence.
Lucifer tilted his head as he observed the scene. This place radiated malice, but it wasn't the overwhelming, chaotic evil of Hell. No, this was a human evil-calculated and intimate.
At the center of the room stood Spawn, his massive frame casting an imposing shadow over the grotesque figure cowering before him.
Billy Kincaid.
The man was short and rotund, his pale skin glistening with sweat as he trembled under Spawn's gaze. His clownish red bowtie and stained white shirt added to his grotesque appearance, but it was the look in his eyes that drew Lucifer's attention-a mix of terror and twisted defiance.
Spawn's glowing green eyes burned with fury as he loomed over Kincaid, his chains rattling faintly in the tense silence. "You thought no one would come for them," Spawn growled, his voice low and menacing. "All those children... all those lives you destroyed."
Kincaid flinched, his eyes darting toward the freezer behind him as though it might somehow offer salvation. "P-Please,"' he stammered, his voice trembling. "I...I didn't mean to-"
"Shut up," Spawn snapped, his chains snapping forward to wrap around Kincaid's wrists, yanking him closer
Lucifer observed silently, his eyes narrowing as he studied the interaction. This wasn't just about vengeance-there was something deeply personal in the way Spawn moved, the way his voice carried the weight of his anger
"You killed them," Spawn continued, his voice growing darker. "You took their innocence, their lives, and for what? Your sick, twisted amusement?"
Kincaid whimpered, his knees buckling as Spawn's chains tightened around him. "'I'm sorry!" he cried, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry!"
"No, you're not," Spawn growled. "But you will be."
From the shadows, Lucifer saw a glint of metal in Spawn's hand-a simple ice cream scoop. His expression remained stoic, but a flicker of curiosity crossed his eyes as he watched what unfolded next. Spawn lifted the scoop, his movements slow and deliberate, letting the light glint off its polished surface.
"Do you remember what they called you, Billy?" he asked, his voice dripping with contempt.
Kincaid's eyes widened, his breathing ragged as he shook his head violently. 'N-No," he stammered, his voice barely audible.
"They called you the Ice Cream Man," Spawn said, his tone mocking. "So it's only fitting... That I make you scream, and scream, and scream!"
Kincaid's screams echoed through the room as Spawn brought the scoop down, the blunt end tearing into his flesh with brutal precision.
Lucifer stood motionless, his eyes narrowing as he observed the twisted display. Spawn worked methodically, his movements precise and unrelenting, each strike of the scoop a calculated act of vengeance.
Kincaid's cries grew weaker with each passing moment, his body convulsing as blood pooled around him. When it was finally over, he was barely recognizable, his form slumped against the chains that held him.
Spawn stood over him, his glowing green eyes burning with a cold intensity. "They deserved justice," he said, his voice low. "And you deserved this."
As the memory began to fade, Lucifer folded his arms, his expression unreadable.
He could feel the weight of what he had just witnessed-the raw, unfiltered rage that drove Spawn to such extremes.
But more than that, he saw the man beneath the Hellspawn's armor-a man grappling with the darkness of his own soul while trying to make sense of a world that no longer made sense to him
"Justice," Lucifer murmured to himself as the scene dissolved. "Or something close to it."
The memory shifted again, the dark and suffocating basement fading away. Lucifer found himself standing in the middle of a desolate alleyway, the faint glow of flickering streetlights casting long, eerie shadows against the brick walls. The air was heavy, charged with tension, and a low, mocking laugh echoed through the night.
Lucifer's sharp gaze moved to the scene unfolding before him. Spawn stood in the center of the alley, his chains rattling as they hovered, poised to strike. His glowing green eyes burned brightly, but his posture was tense, defensive.
Facing him was a grotesque figure—a distorted version of the clown Lucifer had seen earlier. Violator's true form was monstrous, his hulking body a mass of jagged muscle and grotesque features. His elongated limbs ended in sharp, clawed fingers, and his massive jaws were filled with uneven, razor-sharp teeth that gleamed in the dim light. His glowing red eyes radiated pure malice, and his guttural laughter sent chills through the air.
"Well, look at you," Violator sneered, his voice gravelly and dripping with mockery. "Big bad Hellspawn, all puffed up and ready for a fight. Too bad you don't know what you're doing."
Spawn's chains lashed out with blinding speed, aimed directly at Violator's chest. But before they could connect, the demon moved with inhuman agility, dodging the attack effortlessly.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow as he watched the exchange. Spawn was powerful—he could see the raw strength in his strikes—but there was a distinct lack of precision, a sense of inexperience that left him vulnerable.
"You're too slow!" Violator taunted, his grotesque grin widening as he darted around Spawn with unnerving speed. "Didn't they teach you anything downstairs? Oh, wait—of course they didn't. You're just a pawn."
Spawn growled, his necroplasm surging as he swung his chains in a wide arc. The attack clipped Violator's shoulder, drawing a spray of dark ichor, but the demon barely flinched.
"Not bad," Violator said, licking the wound with his grotesque tongue. "But you're gonna have to do better than that, rookie."
Violator lunged forward with terrifying speed, his massive claws slashing through the air. Spawn managed to dodge the first strike, but the second caught him square in the chest, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. The impact shattered the bricks, leaving a crater in the alleyway.
Lucifer winced slightly, his eyes narrowing as he watched Spawn struggle to his feet.
"You're predictable," Violator said, his tone almost bored as he approached the fallen Hellspawn. "All power, no finesse. It's almost embarrassing."
Spawn's glowing eyes flared with rage as he surged forward, his fists crackling with necroplasmic energy. He landed a solid punch to Violator's jaw, the force sending the demon stumbling back a few steps.
But Violator only laughed, the sound deep and guttural. "Oh, you've got spirit," he said, his grin widening. "Too bad it's not enough."
With a roar, Violator lashed out, his claws raking across Spawn's chest. The Hellspawn cried out in pain as the attack tore through his defenses, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Lucifer observed silently, his expression unreadable. He could see the raw determination in Spawn's movements, the unyielding refusal to give up even as the odds stacked against him.
But determination wasn't enough.
Violator loomed over Spawn, his grotesque form casting a long shadow across the alley. "Face it, Simmons," he sneered, his tone dripping with condescension. "You're out of your league."
Spawn struggled to rise, his body battered and bleeding. His chains twitched weakly at his sides, and his glowing eyes flickered as his strength waned.
Violator's grin twisted into something darker as he reached down, grabbing Spawn by the throat and lifting him into the air. "This is what happens when you play with the big boys," he growled, his claws digging into Spawn's flesh. "You lose."
With a brutal motion, Violator slammed Spawn into the ground, the impact sending a shockwave through the alley. The Hellspawn lay motionless, his body broken but not defeated.
Lucifer's gaze softened slightly as he watched Spawn struggle to move, his glowing eyes dim but still burning with defiance.
Violator leaned down, his grotesque face inches from Spawn's. "Don't worry," he said, his voice a cruel whisper. "You'll get better. You'll learn. And when you do, maybe—just maybe—you'll be worth something."
With a final sneer, Violator turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving Spawn battered and alone in the rain-soaked alley.
Lucifer exhaled softly, his eyes narrowing as the memory began to fade. "Defeated," he murmured, his tone thoughtful. "But not broken."
Despite the overwhelming odds, despite the crushing defeat, there was something in Spawn's eyes that Lucifer recognized—a fire that refused to be extinguished.
The memory fractured and blurred, a rapid series of events unfolding before Lucifer's eyes. Each moment was sharp and visceral, dripping with significance as they burned into his mind like flames.
Lucifer found himself in a dense jungle, the air thick with humidity and tension. Spawn stood in the shadows, his glowing green eyes locked onto a man in the distance—a hulking figure with a black skull tattoo covering his face. Chapel.
Lucifer could feel the intensity radiating from Spawn as he stalked his former partner, the betrayal that had led to his fiery death fueling every step. When the confrontation came, it was explosive.
Spawn's chains lashed out with brutal precision, slicing through Chapel's defenses as the man desperately fought back. But it was clear from the start that this wasn't a fight Chapel could win.
"You sold me out," Spawn growled, his voice low and venomous. "You burned me alive, and for what? To cover your tracks?"
Chapel's defiance faded as Spawn closed in, his glowing eyes burning with righteous fury. The memory ended with Spawn standing over Chapel's broken form, the jungle silent save for the rasp of his breathing.
The scene shifted again, this time to a sprawling corporate building. Spawn stood in the shadows of a lavish office, his gaze fixed on the man seated behind the desk—his former employer, Jason Wynn.
Wynn was composed, his cold, calculating demeanor masking the fear simmering beneath the surface.
"You thought you could bury me," Spawn said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "But I'm not a ghost, Wynn. I'm here to make sure you pay for everything you've done."
Lucifer observed as Spawn dismantled Wynn's empire with ruthless efficiency, exposing his crimes to the world and ensuring his downfall. But even as Wynn begged for mercy, Spawn's judgment was swift and final.
"You don't deserve mercy," Spawn said, his chains tightening around Wynn's throat.
The memory faded as Wynn's screams echoed into silence.
The next memory was a battlefield, a stark contrast to the corporate office and jungle. Angelic warriors descended from the skies, their golden armor glinting in the light as they charged at Spawn. Their weapons, forged in the fires of Heaven, clashed against his necroplasmic armor with bursts of energy.
Spawn fought with unrelenting fury, his chains and cape moving as extensions of his will. For every angel that fell, another took their place, their cries of righteousness fueling the chaotic melee.
Lucifer's eyes narrowed as he watched the Hellspawn take on Heaven's forces, his defiance in the face of overwhelming odds leaving a lasting impression.
"Even Heaven isn't spared his wrath," Lucifer murmured, his tone thoughtful.
The memories shifted again, this time showing a series of confrontations between Spawn and Violator. Each encounter was more brutal than the last, the two locked in an endless cycle of battle and taunts.
Lucifer watched as Spawn grew stronger, more adept at countering Violator's attacks. The clown's grotesque form was ripped apart time and time again, but he always returned, his twisted grin unshaken.
"You'll never win, Simmons," Violator sneered in one memory, his jagged teeth glinting as he taunted Spawn. "You're just a pawn in a game you don't even understand."
Spawn's response was a crushing blow that sent Violator sprawling, his glowing green eyes blazing. "Then I'll break the game."
Lucifer couldn't help but smirk faintly at the Hellspawn's defiance, his intrigue growing with every memory.
As the memories began to slow, Lucifer folded his arms, his expression thoughtful. Each moment he had witnessed painted a clearer picture of Spawn's journey—a man consumed by rage, betrayal, and the need for vengeance, but also driven by an unyielding will to fight against forces far beyond his comprehension.
"This isn't just power," Lucifer mused, his crimson eyes narrowing. "This is purpose. And it's not bound to Hell or Heaven."
The memories slowed, the relentless battles and confrontations fading into softer, quieter moments. Lucifer tilted his head as he observed, intrigued by the shift in tone.
The first memory showed Spawn sitting alone atop a derelict building under a starless sky. The city stretched out beneath him, its lights flickering faintly in the smog-filled night. In his clawed hand, he held something small and delicate—his gold wedding ring.
Lucifer stepped closer, his sharp eyes catching the faint engraving on the inside: "Al & Wanda Forever."
Spawn's glowing green eyes softened as he stared at the ring, the hardened rage in his features giving way to something far more vulnerable.
"She's all I have left," Spawn muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city. "Even if she doesn't know it."
Lucifer folded his arms, observing in silence.
The scene shifted, showing Spawn moving through the shadows of a quiet suburban street. He stopped outside a familiar house—the one he had visited before—and lingered in the darkness, his glowing eyes fixed on the warm light spilling from the windows.
Inside, Wanda, Terry, and Cyan sat together at the dining table, their laughter faint but audible through the glass. Spawn watched from a distance, his chains coiling tightly around him like a shield.
He didn't move, didn't speak. He simply watched, the love in his gaze tinged with a sadness that Lucifer couldn't ignore.
The next memory showed Spawn crouched on a rooftop overlooking a playground. It was daytime, the rare sunlight illuminating the children running and laughing below. Among them was Cyan, her curly hair bouncing as she played with a group of friends.
Spawn's posture was tense, his glowing eyes scanning the area like a hawk. He wasn't here to interact, but to ensure her safety.
Lucifer noticed the way Spawn's gaze lingered on Cyan, the faint flicker of something resembling a smile crossing his features.
But the moment was fleeting. A shadowy figure appeared at the edge of the playground—a man with a knife concealed in his jacket. Spawn's chains shot out before the man could take a step, yanking him into the shadows and silencing him with brutal efficiency.
Cyan never noticed, her laughter ringing out as Spawn melted back into the darkness.
"He watches over her," Lucifer murmured to himself, his tone laced with curiosity.
The next memory was quieter, more intimate. Spawn stood in the shadows of another suburban street, his gaze fixed on Terry as the man exited the house to take out the trash.
For a moment, Spawn's glowing eyes burned brighter, his chains rattling faintly as though they were preparing to strike. But then he paused, his posture softening.
"He was there when she needed him," Spawn muttered, his voice low. "He gave her what I couldn't. A family. A life."
Lucifer watched as Spawn slowly unclenched his fists, his chains retracting. It was a small gesture, but it carried immense weight.
In the distance, Terry glanced around, his expression puzzled as though he sensed someone watching. But by the time he turned back, Spawn was gone.
As the memories began to fade, Lucifer stood in thoughtful silence. These moments were a stark contrast to the violent battles and raw fury he had witnessed before. They revealed a side of Spawn that was deeply human—a man defined not just by his rage, but by his capacity for love, regret, and forgiveness.
"He's more than a warrior," Lucifer murmured. "He's still holding onto something. To someone. Even after everything."
The memory shifted again, plunging Lucifer into the darkest depths of Hell. The air was thick with sulfur and ash, the heat oppressive even for one accustomed to Hell's fires. The landscape was a twisted maze of jagged rock and rivers of molten lava, and at the heart of it all loomed a massive throne carved from bone and flame.
Lucifer's crimson eyes narrowed as he saw Spawn, his form silhouetted against the fiery backdrop. His glowing green eyes burned with unrelenting fury as he stood before Malebolgia, the towering demon that had bound him to this Hellspawn fate.
Malebolgia was a sight to behold, his grotesque form radiating raw power. His massive body was covered in jagged spines and pulsating veins of molten energy, his glowing red eyes glaring down at Spawn with contempt.
"You dare to challenge me?" Malebolgia roared, his voice shaking the very ground beneath them. "You are nothing without me! I made you!"
Spawn's chains rattled as they unfurled, their sharp edges glinting in the firelight. "You tricked me," Spawn growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You used me. But I'm not your puppet anymore."
Malebolgia let out a guttural laugh, his massive claws flexing as he loomed over Spawn. "You think you can defy me?" he snarled.
Spawn's response was immediate. He raised his hand, summoning a massive, obsidian-black sword wreathed in green necroplasmic energy. The blade radiated raw power, its jagged edges gleaming with the promise of destruction.
"This ends now," Spawn said, his glowing eyes narrowing.
With a roar, Malebolgia lunged forward, his massive claws swiping at Spawn with terrifying speed. Spawn dodged, his cape propelling him into the air as his sword slashed down, cutting deep into the demon's arm.
Malebolgia roared in pain, his molten blood splattering across the ground and igniting in fiery bursts. But he retaliated with equal ferocity, his claws slamming into Spawn and sending him crashing into a wall of jagged rock.
Lucifer observed silently, his arms folded as he took in the sheer scale of the battle. Spawn was powerful, but Malebolgia's overwhelming size and strength made him a formidable opponent.
"You are nothing!" Malebolgia bellowed, his voice shaking the cavern. "I am eternal! You cannot kill me!"
Spawn wiped the blood from his mouth, his glowing eyes blazing as he pushed himself to his feet. "You're wrong," he said, his voice filled with cold determination. "Everyone can die."
With a burst of speed, Spawn surged forward, his sword slashing in a blur of necroplasmic energy. Malebolgia roared as the blade cut deep into his chest, the searing pain forcing him back.
The battle raged on, each strike shaking the ground and sending shockwaves through the cavern. Spawn's chains lashed out with deadly precision, wrapping around Malebolgia's limbs and pulling him off balance.
But Malebolgia was relentless, his claws tearing through Spawn's suit and drawing streams of necroplasmic blood. "You are mine, Simmons!" he roared, his massive jaws snapping inches from Spawn's face.
Despite the grueling fight, Spawn refused to back down. His movements became sharper, more deliberate, as he adapted to Malebolgia's attacks.
Lucifer watched with intrigue as Spawn used his chains to swing around Malebolgia, delivering a devastating blow to the back of the demon's neck. The impact sent Malebolgia crashing to the ground, his massive body shaking the cavern.
"This is for everything you took from me," Spawn growled, his voice filled with venom.
Malebolgia snarled, his red eyes blazing as he pushed himself up. "You cannot win, Spawn," he hissed. "You are nothing without my power!"
Spawn raised his sword, the blade crackling with green energy. "I don't need your power," he said coldly. "I never did."
With a powerful swing, Spawn brought the sword down, the blade slicing clean through Malebolgia's neck.
The cavern fell silent as Malebolgia's massive head hit the ground, his red eyes flickering before fading into darkness. His body crumbled, the molten veins within him cooling as the flames around them began to die.
Lucifer stood in silence, his sharp eyes fixed on Spawn as the Hellspawn lowered his sword. The glowing green energy around him flickered faintly, his breathing heavy as he stared down at Malebolgia's lifeless form.
"He killed him," Lucifer murmured, his tone laced with intrigue. "He defied the very demon that forged him. And he won."
Spawn turned away from the fallen demon, his glowing eyes narrowing as he walked toward the cavern's exit.
The memory shifted again, and Lucifer found himself in the heart of a burning wasteland. The air was oppressive, filled with the acrid scent of brimstone and ash, and the ground beneath his feet glowed with veins of molten lava.
Standing at the center of the chaos was Spawn, his crimson cape billowing behind him, his glowing green eyes burning with unyielding determination. Across from him stood a monstrous figure, towering and impossibly muscular, with skin the color of blood and eyes that glowed like fiery embers.
This was the Satan of Spawn's world, a twisted and nightmarish version of the ruler Lucifer knew himself to be. His prehensile tail swayed menacingly, his massive horns casting jagged shadows across his cruel face.
"You dare challenge me?" Satan growled, his deep voice reverberating through the wasteland like thunder.
Spawn stood firm, his chains rattling faintly as they coiled around him like serpents. "You're just another tyrant," he said coldly. "Another monster that thinks it can control me."
Satan sneered, his sharp teeth glinting in the fiery light. "You are nothing, Simmons," he spat. "A pawn in a game far beyond your comprehension. Do you think killing Malebolgia makes you my equal? You are nothing more than a pretender!"
Lucifer watched silently, his eyes narrowing as he observed the tension building between the two.
With a deafening roar, Satan lunged forward, his claws slicing through the air with terrifying speed. Spawn met the attack head-on, his chains snapping forward to intercept the blow. The clash sent shockwaves through the wasteland, the ground cracking beneath their feet.
Spawn moved with precision, his every strike infused with necroplasmic energy. His sword, still stained with Malebolgia's essence, glowed brightly as it clashed against Satan's claws.
"You think you can defeat me?" Satan snarled, his tail lashing out and slamming into Spawn with bone-crushing force. The Hellspawn was sent flying, his body crashing into a jagged outcrop of rock.
Spawn groaned, pushing himself up as his armor began to mend itself. "I've already killed one of you," he said, his voice steady despite the pain. "What makes you think you're any different?"
Satan roared in fury, his horns crackling with fiery energy as he charged at Spawn. The ground shook with every step, molten lava bubbling to the surface as his sheer presence warped the landscape.
Lucifer's sharp gaze remained fixed on Spawn as he rose to his feet, his glowing eyes narrowing with resolve. He dodged Satan's next attack with ease, his cape propelling him into the air as he brought his sword down with devastating force.
The blade bit deep into Satan's shoulder, a burst of necroplasmic energy sending the demon stumbling back with a roar of pain.
"You dare wound me?" Satan bellowed, his fiery eyes blazing with fury. "I am the Lord of Hell! You are nothing!"
Spawn's chains lashed out again, wrapping around Satan's arm and yanking him off balance. "You're just another liar," Spawn growled, his voice cold and unyielding. "Another coward hiding behind his power."
With a powerful swing of his sword, Spawn severed Satan's tail, the appendage falling to the ground in a pool of molten blood. Satan howled in pain, his rage boiling over as he unleashed a torrent of hellfire.
Spawn's cape shielded him from the flames, the necroplasmic energy radiating from his body intensifying as he pressed the attack. His sword slashed through Satan's defenses, each strike carving deep wounds into the demon's flesh.
The final moments of the battle were a blur of violence and raw power. Spawn's relentless assault drove Satan to his knees, his massive form trembling under the weight of his injuries.
"You've lost," Spawn said, his voice low and venomous. "This Hell isn't yours anymore."
Just as it seemed that Spawn was ready to deliver the final blow, the memory faded away. Yet it didn't matter. For Lucifer, the implication of what happened was clear.
"He's more than a warrior," Lucifer said quietly, his crimson eyes narrowing. "He's a force unto himself."
Reality came rushing back to Lucifer, the vivid images of Spawn's memories fading like dissipating smoke. Though only moments had passed in real time, the weight of what he had witnessed felt monumental.
He blinked once, his sharp eyes locking onto Spawn. For a long moment, Lucifer did nothing but study him, his usual dramatic flair subdued. What he had seen, what he had felt through Spawn's memories, had shifted something in him.
Lucifer finally exhaled, a rare seriousness in his tone as he spoke. "I see now why you carry yourself as you do," he said, his voice low but steady. "You've faced horrors that would break even the strongest of my subjects. And yet, here you stand."
Spawn's glowing green eyes remained fixed on Lucifer, unyielding and unreadable. He said nothing, his silence its own kind of power.
Lucifer continued, his gaze narrowing slightly. "You've defeated not one, but two of Hell's so-called rulers. And you've carried the weight of betrayal, loss, and vengeance, all without shattering beneath it."
There was a pause as Lucifer let his words hang in the air. When he spoke again, his voice carried a note of something rare—respect. "I understand now," he said, his crimson eyes glinting. "Why you speak to me as an equal. Because, in many ways, you are."
Spawn's posture didn't change, but there was a faint flicker in his glowing eyes, a quiet acknowledgment of Lucifer's words.
For the first time in centuries, Lucifer found himself regarding a sinner not as a nuisance, but as something... more.
Spawn stood silently, his glowing green eyes fixed on Lucifer, who still seemed to be processing everything he had seen. Though Spawn maintained his usual stoic demeanor, a part of him was tense. He knew he had held back—omitting the chapters of his life where his power had grown beyond anything even Malebolgia or Satan could have imagined.
That part of his story was not for now. Not for anyone.
Maybe one day, Spawn thought to himself. But not here.
Lucifer, for his part, appeared satisfied. He folded his arms, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded Spawn. The King of Hell didn't speak immediately, letting the weight of the shared silence settle between them.
Finally, Lucifer gave a slight nod, his tone calm yet resolute. "You've left your mark," he said, his words deliberate. "And I see enough to know the weight of what you carry."
Spawn said nothing, his chains rattling softly as they coiled around him like resting serpents.
Lucifer's gaze softened—just barely—as he added, "What you've shown me is... sufficient." His voice, usually so theatrical, carried a rare sincerity.
For the first time, Spawn felt a faint shift in the air. It wasn't reverence, nor was it fear. It was acknowledgment—perhaps even acceptance—from a being who rarely offered either to anyone.
Lucifer's sharp eyes lingered on Spawn, his expression thoughtful but tinged with curiosity. Even after seeing everything—Spawn's life, his battles, his triumphs, and his pain—there was a question that gnawed at him.
"How did you get here?" Lucifer finally asked, his voice calm but insistent. "You've shown me your world, your battles, your rise and rebellion. But none of that explains why you're in my Hell, of all places."
Spawn's glowing green eyes narrowed slightly, his cape shifting faintly as though in response to his thoughts. He stood silent for a moment, weighing his words.
Finally, his voice broke the tension, low and measured. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've been trying to figure that out since I got here."
Lucifer's expression didn't change, but the faint tilt of his head revealed his intrigue. "You're telling me that you—someone who's defied and defeated the masters of your own Hell—simply appeared here, with no explanation?"
Spawn shrugged, his chains rattling softly at his sides. "I just dropped down here. No warnings, no signs, no memory of how or why. One moment I was in my world, fighting my battles, and the next... I wasn't."
Lucifer's eyes flickered, his sharp mind already piecing together possibilities. "And since arriving, you've been... adapting," he said, his tone more statement than question.
Spawn gave a slight nod. "Call it survival," he said. "Your Hell's rules are different, but the game is the same. Fight to stay alive, fight to stay free."
Lucifer folded his arms, his expression unreadable. "Curious," he murmured. "A man displaced from one Hell to another, with no clear cause or purpose. Either someone wanted you here... or the universe itself does."
Spawn's glowing eyes locked onto Lucifer's, his tone sharp. "If someone brought me here, they're going to regret it. I'm not a pawn—not anymore."
Lucifer's lips curved into a faint smirk. "That much, I believe," he said.
The tension between them remained, but now it was tinged with a mutual understanding. While neither knew the truth behind Spawn's arrival, both understood the weight of his presence—and the disruption it could bring to Hell itself.
Lucifer's thoughts lingered on the memories Spawn had shared, his sharp eyes narrowing as he pieced together the fragments. The Hell he had seen through Spawn's memories was unlike anything in his own realm. It was darker, more insidious—a place that thrived on raw malice and unrelenting torment.
In some ways, it reminded Lucifer of the Hell he had first known when he and Lilith were cast down. Back then, Hell was untamed, a chaotic abyss that had to be shaped into something more... manageable. Spawn's Hell was a reflection of those early days, a twisted mirror of a time Lucifer preferred to leave buried in the past.
He exhaled softly, his gaze shifting back to Spawn. The Hellspawn stood still, his posture firm and unyielding, but Lucifer could see the weight he carried. This was no mere sinner, no rebellious soul bound by the chains of damnation.
This was something far greater.
"You're not a sinner," Lucifer said finally, his tone low but resolute. "Not by the standards of this Hell, or even your own. You're something... different."
Spawn's glowing green eyes narrowed, but he didn't respond, letting Lucifer continue.
"You were a king in your own Hell," Lucifer said, his voice carrying the weight of certainty. "Whether you claim the title or not, that's what you became. You defeated its ruler. You defied its laws. And in doing so, you reshaped it into your own image."
Spawn shifted slightly, his chains rattling faintly at his sides. "I didn't ask for any of it," he said, his voice low and edged with steel. "But I did what I had to do."
Lucifer gave a faint, almost knowing smile. "And that is what makes you dangerous," he said. "You don't seek power for its own sake. You wield it because you must. That makes you far more formidable than any would-be ruler or would-be rebel."
