The Devil's Bargain
The sky burned like dying embers. Scarlet light spilled across the horizon, drowning the world in a haze of twilight that seemed to bleed from the heavens themselves. The air smelled of iron and ash, the remnants of a war no mortal eyes would ever see.
Karlheinz stood on the edge of the ruined cathedral, his cloak trailing in the wind. The marble beneath his boots was fractured, blackened from fire that had raged through this place centuries ago. He gazed upward, the eternal calm in his eyes betraying neither fear nor reverence. He was waiting.
The sound came first—the whisper of wings that were not wings, the silence that pressed too tightly against the chest, as though the very air bent in worship. And then the figure appeared, stepping from shadow into scarlet light.
Lucifer.
The Morningstar himself stood before him, terrible and beautiful. His hair fell in waves of obsidian silk, his eyes glowing with an impossible golden radiance, cruel yet heart-breakingly regal. The smile on his lips was carved with disdain for heaven and earth alike.
And in his arms, he carried her.
A small child, swaddled in fabric blacker than the void. Crimson strands spilled from her head like drops of fresh blood against snow. Her tiny hand clutched at Lucifer’s chest, and even as an infant, she seemed to emanate something that bent the shadows toward her.
“You came,” Karlheinz said softly, his deep voice carrying like the toll of a church bell.
Lucifer chuckled, the sound smooth and venomous. “When I call, the world itself trembles. Did you think I would not come, old friend?” His gaze lowered to the child. His golden eyes softened—an expression no soul alive had ever witnessed. “This is April. My daughter.”
Karlheinz’s eyes narrowed. “Lucifer, you told me you would never—”
“I did not plan to,” Lucifer interrupted, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the air. “But fate is a crueler mistress than even I. She was born of blood older than Eden, and she will be hunted for it. Heaven fears what she may become. Hell hungers for her. Even I…” He faltered—Lucifer Morningstar faltered. “…even I cannot keep her safe.”
The child stirred, her ocean-blue eyes flickering open. They were too clear, too alive, as though she were staring into the marrow of the world itself. Karlheinz felt something in his chest stir—something ancient, something that had long since grown numb within him.
“She smiles at you,” Lucifer murmured. His voice carried a shadow of envy. “The first I have seen upon her lips. How fitting.”
Karlheinz lowered his gaze, studying the fragile creature in Lucifer’s arms. Crimson hair like blood, eyes like the boundless sea, a beauty that even as an infant, promised to eclipse angels. And yet—her tiny fingers curled, soft, innocent. She was human in her breathing, her fragility, her warmth.
“Why me?” Karlheinz asked, though he already knew.
Lucifer’s lips curved into a smile that was more blade than expression. “Because you are the only one who understands eternity as I do. The only one who can raise her without breaking her spirit. You, Karlheinz, with your six sons who feast on blood and shadows—you will give her the illusion of family.”
Karlheinz’s eyes darkened. “And when she learns the truth of what she is?”
“Then,” Lucifer said, his voice dropping to a murmur heavy with prophecy, “the world will either kneel—or burn.”
He extended the child. The motion was deliberate, as though even Lucifer himself hesitated. “Take her. Teach her the ways of men, the ways of vampires. Let her believe she is one of them. Shelter her until the time comes.” His golden eyes flickered with uncharacteristic sorrow. “She must never know she is mine until she is strong enough to bear it.”
Karlheinz reached forward. His gloved hands closed around the child, and for the first time in centuries, he felt warmth seep into him, fragile but undeniable. The infant looked up at him with those ocean eyes, and her lips curved into the faintest smile.
Something inside Karlheinz cracked. He who had seen kingdoms rise and fall, who had fathered sons drenched in cruelty and obsession, felt the stirrings of something unfamiliar. Affection.
Lucifer watched, silent, his perfect face unreadable. When he finally spoke, his words carried the weight of damnation itself.
“Protect her, Karlheinz. Not for me. Not for yourself. For her. For April. For the girl who will one day choose whether to save this cursed world—or end it.”
The wind howled, the last scarlet light fading into black. And when Karlheinz lifted his gaze again, Lucifer was gone, leaving only the faint smell of ash and roses in the air.
But the child remained.
April Sakamaki. The devil’s daughter.
And in her tiny heartbeat, the first thread of destiny began to weave itself around the House of Sakamaki.
She grew up among the sons of Karlheinz, Beatrix, the second wife and mother of Shu and Reiji adored April for her mainors and how well she adjusted to her surroundings. Cordelia, the first wife and mother of the triplets Ayato, Kantao and Laito, hated April for everything. She hated how April smiled, laughed and played with the triplets. and then there's Christa, the third wife and mother of Subaru who never spoke but listened to April since as she sat in her prison tower. April brought light into everyone's cold, dark hearts, except Cordelia.
