NEXT MORNING HOPE WAS awakened with flashbacks. Flashbacks for Lucas. But at the same time, it was flashbacks of something she never remembered doing. It was more like a, like a message from him to her.
There Lucas had been standing in the middle of the room. A group of teens with their eyeballs marked out circled him.
"Lucas...?" Hope whispers.
"Hope..." His voice echoes, they were standing across from another in the Grand Hall back at the Salvatore school. It was dark and empty. "You need to fight this— we need your help. Help. Help. Help." the word continued to echo out. "He's back... it's back. Be ready."
Hope's brows furrowed, she walks up to the boy who kept repeating the same words. As she takes another step she looks down at her hand where she sees a Grimoire along with ingredients for a hexing spell under her. That's when she sees Lucas' mark.
"The truth will come, one may fall. Only one can live, pray for us all." The teens around Lucas were now chanting. "One must die to fulfill nature's loophole. One must give up their soul to save us all."
"Hope," Lucas calls out, they had both now been looking at each other. "Fight."
Hope gasps awake, her eyes glowing a bright goldish color. She looks around to find herself in an unknown bed. She quickly jumps out of it and walks into the halls. She sees a tall figure. A familiar one.
"Lucifer?"
The man turns around, smiling. "Not quite."
"Michael..."
"Bingo." The angel chuckles.
"What am I doing here?"
Michael shrugs. "Well, I could be asking you the same thing. You just showed up out of blue asking for Lucas— I thought you two were done. Since he's been off playing around with the retired witch." he says as he continues to... cook?
Hope narrows her eyes. "Are you cooking?"
"Of course. I'm hungry." Michael replies he hands her the knife. The blade facing her palm. "You mind cutting the rest?" he refers to the carrots.
Hope scoffs. "No thanks, I don't cook." she pushes her hand towards the man so he could take the knife.
Michael rolls his eyes, he instantly pulls the blade from her grip cutting her palm, allowing a good amount of blood to remain on the knife. Hope winces. Too distracted to see what he bothered doing with the knife.
