The day after Alastor casually strolled past Lucifer's room, a faint sound reached his ears, piercing through the usual silence of the underworld. Sobbing. It was unexpected, disconcerting even, to hear such a display of emotion emanating from the chamber of the formidable Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell himself. Curiosity piqued, Alastor couldn't resist investigating further.
Stepping into Lucifer's dimly lit room, Alastor's keen eyes immediately fell upon Lucifer, who was seated at his desk, clutching onto what appeared to be a test of some sort. The usually composed and aloof Lucifer was visibly distressed, his shoulders slumped, and his expression fraught with anguish. "Not again..." he whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to his usual commanding tone.
Alastor couldn't help but be intrigued by the scene unfolding before him. A wide grin stretched across his face as he sauntered closer to Lucifer, his footsteps echoing softly in the room. Sensing Alastor's presence, Lucifer tensed slightly, but before he could react, Alastor placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"What's wrong with the king of hell?" Alastor inquired, his voice filtered through the crackling static of his vintage radio. The question hung in the air, thick with anticipation.
Lucifer hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting uneasily before finally meeting Alastor's intense stare. "Please don't tell Charlie, but I'm pregnant," he confessed, his voice laced with vulnerability and apprehension.
