Lucifer: Godless Reawakening

Before the trial began, Emma and William were walking down the garden path.

The early morning air carried a light chill, enough to make the leaves glisten with dew, but neither of them seemed to mind. After their exchange in William's room earlier—the teasing that ended with Emma fleeing in embarrassment—their bodies still felt warm. That lingering heat made the cold almost pleasant.

Their hands were linked, fingers naturally intertwined, as they walked at an unhurried pace. The garden was quiet, save for the faint sound of birds and the soft crunch of gravel beneath their steps. For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Emma broke the silence.

"What exactly do you call that explosive attack you developed recently?" she asked, her tone casual but curious.

William hummed softly, as if recalling something trivial. "Drop of Oblivion," he answered without much thought. "Why?"

Emma let out a slow sigh. She lowered her gaze, watching their joined hands sway between them. "That's the only skill you have that truly worries me."

William turned his head slightly, giving her his attention.

"When you fought the golem near the gym," she continued, "I realized something. You can't fully control the damage it causes. And because of that, you suffer backlash too."

William nodded. There was no denial in his expression. "Yeah. It's still developing. I haven't mastered it yet."

Emma tilted her head and looked at him. "Would you explain the whole mechanism of the spell to me? Maybe I can help you control it better."

As soon as she asked, she hesitated.

For an unorthodox mage, explaining the inner workings of a spell was not a light matter. Unlike regular mages like her, who relied on recorded incantations and structured formulas, unorthodox mages worked through imagination and instinct. Their spells were born from personal understanding rather than established rules.

Their greatest strength was also their greatest weakness.

Imagination.

To ask an unorthodox mage how their spell worked was to ask them to expose their thought process, their limits, and their fears. It was almost like asking them to lay themselves bare.

William, however, didn't hesitate.

"Well, it's nothing special," he said calmly. "I just create a small barrier around a specific region and trap the air inside it. When I shrink that space, a violent surge appears. The smaller the orb becomes, the more violent the energy gets. That's what forms the Drop of Oblivion."

Emma stopped walking.

Her eyes slowly widened—not only because of how easily he shared something so personal, but because of how absurd the spell itself was.

This world lacked many scientific concepts she had learned in her previous life. Pressure systems, plasma states, energy density—most mages here didn't think in those terms.

That meant William didn't fully understand what he was truly dealing with.

As they resumed walking, Emma's mind worked rapidly.

William trapped air in a sealed space and continuously reduced its size. The amount of air remained the same, but the volume shrank. This forced the molecules closer together.

As they collided more often and with greater force, pressure rose sharply. Temperature followed.

At extreme pressure, air stopped behaving like a normal gas. The molecules lost electrons, turning into plasma. Plasma released light naturally, explaining the glow.

As the energy density increased, the system became unstable. Even the slightest imbalance would trigger collapse.

When the barrier could no longer maintain stability, everything inside collapsed inward at once. Pressure, heat, and charged matter compressed into a single destructive event.

That was the Drop of Oblivion.

It wasn't an explosion that expanded outward.

It was a crushing inward collapse.

Emma processed all of this in a matter of seconds.

"Emma?" William asked, sensing the change in her mood.

She stopped again, turned toward him, and took a moment to steady herself.

"Can you promise me something?" she asked.

William could tell she was serious so he didn't joke and nodded. "What is it?"

"Unless it's truly urgent, or there's no other way out," she said carefully, "don't use a highly concentrated Droplet."

William understood immediately. He didn't argue.

"I will be mindful," he replied.

…

He wasn't.

Emma stared at the screen, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Around her, people gasped in shock. Some shouted in disbelief. Others stood frozen, unable to process what they had just seen.

Emma, however, felt none of that surprise.

She knew exactly what he had done.

Concentrating that spell for more than two seconds meant destruction on a large scale. And William had used it on a target that looked far less threatening than the stone golem on the first floor.

"What was he thinking?" she muttered under her breath.

If William had been standing next to her, she would have said far harsher words. She had warned him. She knew how dangerous that spell was.

And yet—

"Ah… something's showing up," Natalie said as the screen flickered and slowly regained clarity.

The image resolved into a broken scene. Shattered ground. Distorted stone. Signs of overwhelming force.

Emma bit her lower lip.

'Just don't do anything reckless again,' she thought.

…

[Inside the dungeon]

William stood on unfamiliar ground.

He was on the third floor.

The transition had been sudden, but he barely noticed it. His mind was elsewhere.

In the past, he had faced an Octadai.

That memory still lingered like a scar.

An adult Octadai had once taken control of his mind, twisting his thoughts and forcing him to hurt his friends. The damage hadn't been physical alone. It had struck at something deeper.

William took pride in mental manipulation. He believed in his control, his discipline.

And yet, something had broken through that control.

That humiliation still burned.

So when another presence reached out and brushed against his mind, something snapped.

The reaction was instant and fierce.

He had overreacted.

"Haah…" William exhaled slowly as he adjusted his clothes and picked up his bag. "I can already feel her glaring at me."

There were no remains of the Octadai. No proof that he had cleared the second floor.

But he wasn't here for recognition or rewards.

He was here to prove something—to Vitori, and to himself.

After taking a brief rest, William reached into his bag and pulled out a light stick.

Just as he was about to activate it, his body froze.

He felt it.

A presence.

It had been hiding, silent and patient. Now that he was here, it revealed itself.

The energy was wrong. Repulsive. Inhumane.

"A devil…" William whispered.

He snapped the light stick in half, flooding the area with pale light.

The dungeon walls came into view, uneven and damp. Shadows stretched along the floor.

His heart thudded in his chest as he slowly looked around.

Then he saw it.

A pair of red eyes glowed in the darkness.

William stiffened.

That presence—it felt familiar.

It reminded him of the being he had fought on Island Delta.

His breath caught. Every muscle in his body tensed as he locked eyes with the creature.

The air between them felt heavy, as if the space itself was holding its breath.

Neither moved.

Both stood like drawn bows, strained and ready—one wrong motion away from violence.

And somewhere deep inside, William knew.

This fight would not be one sided..

°°°°°°°°°

A/N:- I won't stretch the dungeon trial for long. Thanks for reading.n