With the chaos that happened, Nathalia's grave was not finished. It was half filled. Wasted flowers scented the grounds. Shovels lie useless. Chairs scrambled in the area. A forlorn sight for the most feared woman in the society.

As the rest of the people squandered for their lives, one man remains. The oldest friend. Three other men came. They picked the shovels as the old man orders. Slowly, they packed the unfilled grave. 

The old man held his hands to his back. Stared at the freshly dug soils. All these years, he lived behind the shadows of Nathalia. Hiding from the morbid influence of his kind. It's time to step out of the dark. To tell a story, Lucifer: Untold.

Lucifer: Untold

Mr. Mercer courageously stood at the front door, glaring back at the crowd of assassins outside Downcaster. Hellfires and Centuria were swarming the grounds. The alarming news reached the main chamber, putting Renard up to his feet. Even Devonne's side of the manor had its own blockade. There was an obvious panic in the house. Scrambling from corners to corners. 


"What is going on here?" Renard demanded an explanation the moment he landed on the main floor. 


"Look outside, my lord." Mr. Mercer quietly stated. 


Renard, with his head, held high, stepped outside. His eyebrows crested as he scanned the grounds. The two assassins of the Conglomerate were outside, on orders he was not informed nor counsel with. The head of the army walked ominously to him. Renard maintained his position, proudly. 


Forty-Seven - The Fall of Rome