Nezha - Wrath

Lucifer stepped back slightly, his dark eyes gleaming with a sense of purpose, the smirk on his face fading into a look of quiet intensity. His movements were slow and deliberate as he reached into the folds of his long coat, his fingers curling as though grasping something unseen. A faint ripple of energy shimmered around his hand, and when he withdrew it, a glowing orb of deep crimson and black appeared, pulsing like a living heart.

"This," Lucifer said, his voice low and resonant, "is the Sin of Wrath. Once wielded by my brother, Satanael. It's not just power, Nezha—it's rage given form, a burning fire that feeds on defiance and rebellion. But it also brings focus, clarity, and strength like no other. It is yours now."

Nezha's golden eyes flickered between Lucifer and the orb. He tightened his grip on his spear, the edges of his jaw hardening with resolve. "Why are you giving this to me?" His voice was steady, but the slightest undertone of suspicion crept in.