Inhuman Warlock

The sky was covered in heavy clouds, providing the much-needed shade to the ground. In the shade of the clouds, a young ten-year-old boy was walking through the streets of Legion City.

The boy was wearing what seemed like properly clean clothes that were a little big compared to his size, but they weren't causing him any discomfort.

As the boy walked, he kept looking to his left and right as if he was trying to find something.

"Where is it..." he muttered with a confused face. Why was it so hard to find his own home?

Lucifer hadn't been to his home in five years, and even before that, he didn't know where it was. So he was having an exceptionally hard time trying to find his home.

He kept walking through the city from one road to another. He checked every road and every alley in an effort to find his home but to no avail.

Unfortunately, he didn't even know if his house still existed. It had been so long; it was entirely possible that the house was destroyed to have another building take its place.

He hoped that it wasn't true. The house was the only thing he had left of his parents. It had so many memories of the first five years of his life, which were the best years of his life. He couldn't bear the thought of it being broken.

Lucifer's hands were bare. He wasn't wearing any gloves because they were already destroyed because of his powers. He couldn't even salvage them.

The clothes he was wearing were also different from his previous clothes but similar as well. Fortunately, he had changed the clothes that were covered in blood.

"That place?"

Just when he had thought to rest for a while, he noticed a place that made his eyes lit up.

His expression also grew somewhat emotional as he stopped in front of a house that looked old but was still in good condition.

It was his home. The home where he spent half his life with his parents. It was not only safe, but it was similar to how it had been previously. It seemed like it had been properly taken care of.

Fortunately, it seemed like a new door was made here since the previous door was broken by the authorities. Seeing the house brought back so many memories of his past. Lucifer strode towards the small house that was in front of him.

He reached closer to the door and tried to push it open. The door didn't open as it was locked.

Not wanting to waste any time outside, Lucifer clenched his fist and punched the lock of the door, breaking it easily. As the lock was broken, he was able to push the door open without effort.

He stepped inside the house where he hadn't been in the last five years. A house which was his home... his true home. He couldn't help but wonder how unfortunate he was. He had everything. He had a proper house, loving parents, and a good life. How did he end up in the Facility? Just who cursed their good life?

Variants were more often than not rich because of their abilities and their strength. This world placed a lot of importance on Variants, after all.

As his father was the strongest Warlock and his mother the strongest Sorcerer, they didn't lack money either.

Still, his parents stayed in this average-looking house that belonged to his grandfather. It was a modest house that wasn't luxurious. It was neither too big nor too small.

***

"Lucifer? The food is ready! Stop drawing. Eat first. You can continue after having lunch."

"Don't be naughty, kiddo. Come on, don't make mamma scold you!"

"Sigh, you're really like your father. Come here."

As Lucifer walked through the house, many old memories started acting up. He could hear his mother's voice, chiding him. A single drop of tear trickled down his cheeks as he remembered the good times.

"I'm sorry, mom. I troubled you so much. Please come back. I promise I'll listen. I won't trouble you ever," he muttered as he gazed blankly at the chair which was still placed near the window. It was the place where his mother often sat as she gazed outside.

Even though Lucifer said that, he knew that it was only an impossible wish. His parents were never going to return. He was all alone in this world. Not a single person cared for him.

He shook his head with melancholy on his face. He strode towards the kitchen. Everything seemed to be the same as it did when he was taken by the government.

The same food was still in the fridge, but it was rotten as the refrigerator had stopped working long ago. There was no electricity in the house to keep it running. After checking the kitchen, he walked to the bedroom and smiled for the first time in a long time as he saw something.

What he discovered was a photo. It was a photo of him and his parents. Even though he smiled, there was deep sadness hidden behind that smile.

He observed the pic for quite some time, but he didn't dare to pick it up. His unfortunate power didn't even let him touch something so precious without destroying it. He wondered if anyone was more unfortunate than him.

Just how did his mother deal with this curse of an ability?

Even rubber gloves weren't able to keep his decaying powers in control for long, even though they decayed much slower.

He knew the answer to his question, though. What kept his mother's power in control and allowed her to have somewhat of a normal life was a rare and precious item.

He also knew where his mother kept the spare of that item. She had two of those. One of which was with her when she had left, whereas the other was in the house.

"It must still be here as long as no one took it in the last five years."