Lucy wakes up every day at almost the same time, even without needing an alarm clock, because her body simply decides it’s rested enough and that the world outside must have new things happening. She opens her eyes slowly, looking first at the bedroom ceiling, as if confirming that she’s still in the same place as yesterday, and then turns her head to the side, hugging the pillow for a few seconds before getting up. She’s still learning that days exist, that they pass, that they aren’t all the same, but she likes the feeling of starting over.

She gets out of bed carefully, because once she fell trying to get out too quickly and was a little annoyed with herself, even without quite understanding why. She walks to the door, opens it slowly and goes out into the hallway, already smelling the scent that always appears in the morning. It’s a good smell. It’s warm. It’s familiar. She doesn’t yet know how to explain it with pretty words, but she knows she likes it.

"Aunt Viviane?" she calls, walking to the kitchen.

Viviane is already there, as always. She always seems to know what time Lucy will wake up, even without anyone telling her. She’s standing with her back to her, preparing breakfast with calm, organized movements, as if she’d done it a thousand times before.

"Good morning, Lucy ," Viviane says without looking, as if she already knew Lucy was there.

"Good morning!" Lucy replies cheerfully, climbing onto a chair to sit at the table.

Breakfast is almost ready. Viviane carefully places the plate in front of her, as if it were something important, and for Lucy it is. Dinosaur-shaped toast. Always dinosaurs. Sometimes different ones, sometimes the same ones, but always dinosaurs. Lucy likes to look before eating, trying to guess which is which, even if she doesn’t always know their names.

There are also scrambled eggs, well-made, and a glass of orange juice. And, next to it, an apple.

"That’s for later," Viviane always reminds her.

"I know," Lucy replies, even if she sometimes forgets.

She starts eating slowly at first because she likes to observe. Then she eats faster because she realizes she’s really hungry. Between bites, she says random things, questions that come up without warning.

"Aunt Viviane, did dinosaurs really exist?"

"Yes."

"Were they big?"

"Some, yes."

"Did they eat people?"

Viviane pauses briefly before answering.

"Some ate meat. But there weren’t people back then."

Lucy thinks for a few seconds, chewing slowly.

"So they didn’t eat people."

"No."

She seems satisfied with this answer and continues eating.

After breakfast, Lucy takes the apple with her, even if she doesn’t eat it right away. She walks to the living room, turns on the television with some difficulty because she’s still learning the right buttons, and sits on the sofa with her legs crossed. It’s cartoon time.

She really likes this part of the day.

The drawings are colorful, fast-paced, full of things happening at once. Sometimes she laughs without understanding exactly why, but feels she should laugh. Sometimes she tries to repeat what the characters say, practicing new words, even if it comes out a little wrong.

She likes strong characters. She likes it when someone solves a problem by hitting another person. But she also likes it when someone hugs another character and says everything is okay. She still doesn’t know which of the two things is better.

Around ten o’clock, Novah appears.

"Aunt Novah!" Lucy says, getting up from the sofa.

"Bath time," Novah replies, smiling slightly.

Lucy doesn’t complain. At first she didn’t like it much, because she didn’t understand why she needed to get in the water every day, but now she likes it. The water is warm, the soap smells good, and Novah always washes her hair carefully, without getting water in her eyes.

"Is the world big?" Lucy asks while sitting in the bathtub.

"Yes."

"Bigger than the house?"

"Much bigger."

"Bigger than the TV?"

Novah gives a small laugh.

"Yes, bigger than the TV."

Lucy is quiet for a while, thinking about it.

After the bath comes the best part: the clothes.

Lucy loves cute clothes. Dresses with light colors, bows, patterned socks, things that make noise when she walks. She likes to twirl in front of the mirror, watching how the dress moves.

"Does it look nice?" she asks.

"It does," Novah always replies.

"I like it."

"Me too."

And that’s enough.

When lunchtime arrives, Lucy is hungry again. She goes back to the kitchen and finds Viviane preparing food she likes. There’s always something she recognizes, even if she doesn’t yet know the name.

"What’s for lunch today?" Lucy asks, climbing back onto the chair.

"Food you like," Viviane replies.

"I like everything?"

"Almost everything."

Lucy thinks about this while waiting for her food.

When she starts eating, she doesn’t talk much. She pays attention to the taste, the texture, the feeling of being full. Eating is something she takes seriously, even without being able to explain it.

"Okay," she says at some point.

"I know," Viviane replies.

After lunch, she becomes a little quieter. Sometimes she lies on the sofa, sometimes she just stares at the ceiling again. But it doesn’t take long before another important part of the day arrives.

One o’clock.

"Alice!" Lucy says as soon as she sees her enter.

Alice smiles and extends her hand.

"Shall we go?"

"Let’s go!"

Lucy takes her hand without thinking twice. She likes this part too, even if it’s different from the others. It’s not just fun. It’s learning.

They go to a quieter room, with books, notebooks, and things that Lucy is still trying to understand how they work.

"Today we’re going to see new words," Alice says.

"Okay."

Alice teaches slowly. She shows letters, sounds, how to put it all together. Lucy tries to repeat, sometimes she makes mistakes, sometimes she gets it right, but she keeps trying.

"This here is ’world’," Alice explains.

"World," Lucy repeats.

"Where we live."

"Here?"

"Yes. And outside too." Lucy thinks about it for a while.

"Is there more to the world?"

"Yes."

She doesn’t fully understand, but she retains the information.

Then comes math. Numbers. Counting things. Adding.

Lucy doesn’t like it as much as she likes words, but she tries anyway.

"One plus one is two," Alice says.

"Two."

"Two plus two?"

Lucy thinks.

"...four?"

"That’s it."

She smiles when she gets it right.

Then comes history, geography, things that Lucy still finds a bit confusing, but interesting. Places she’s never seen, things that happened before she existed.

Sometimes, in the middle of class, Vergil appears.

He doesn’t talk much. He just comes in, observes, stays there.

And something changes.

Alice becomes more... different.

Faster. More focused. More serious.

Lucy notices this.

"I like it when Daddy comes," she remarks once.

Alice looks at her.

"Why?"

"You get more engaged."

Alice blinks a few times.

"...engaged?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what that means?"

Lucy shakes her head.

"No. But I like it."

Alice doesn’t correct her. She just continues the lesson.

The day continues like this, with small things happening, no big events, but everything important in some way. Lucy learns, observes, asks questions, keeps answers even when she doesn’t fully understand.

She writes everything down.

In her own way.

With simple words, sometimes wrong, sometimes repeated, but always honest.

...

The silence of the room changes when the page ends. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

There is no longer a child’s voice narrating.

There is a book.

A diary.

Small, but full of pages already filled.

Vergil holds the notebook in one hand, leafing through it slowly, unhurriedly, reading each line with an attention he rarely shows to other things. His eyes scan the simple words, the mistakes, the repetitions, and yet... he doesn’t correct anything.

Lilith is beside him, watching over her shoulder.

She doesn’t comment immediately.

He closes the diary carefully.

And then—

A small smile appears.

From corner to corner.

It’s not exaggerated.

But it’s clear.

"It seems that of Lucifer," he says calmly, turning the notebook slightly so Lilith can see better, "she only has the soul."

He pauses briefly, still looking at the diary cover.

And then adds—

"Look how cute."

Lilith kept her gaze fixed on the pages for a few more seconds after Vergil finished speaking, as if she were still processing every detail of what she had read. It wasn’t just the content itself, but the way everything was simple, direct, almost too innocent for someone who, theoretically, carried the soul of something so... ancient. She turned another page slowly, even though she already knew there was nothing more there, just to confirm, before closing the diary with unusual care.

"I really thought something bad was coming," she said, without taking her eyes off the closed notebook, her voice lower than usual, but not out of tension. It was more... reflection. "Some sign, some distortion, anything that would indicate that this ’simplicity’ was just a superficial layer."

She looked up then, finally looking at Vergil.

"But there’s nothing there."

A short pause.

"She’s... just a child."

Vergil continued with a slight smile on his face, leaning back in a relaxed manner, as if that conclusion wasn’t exactly surprising to him. His fingers still held the edge of the diary, but without any intention of taking it back, just maintaining contact.

"For now," he replied calmly, without dismissing the possibility, but also without treating it as something immediate.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes returning to the diary for a moment.

"I’m still trying to understand how she was formed," he continued, now more analytical, as if organizing his own reasoning as he spoke. "Because, in the process... I didn’t create anything new. I just joined Lucifer’s soul to a functional structure."

He paused briefly, his fingers tapping lightly on the arm of the chair, thoughtful.

"But the result..." he murmured, looking back at Lilith, "...doesn’t reflect the origin."

Lilith crossed her arms, leaning her weight slightly against one side of the table, still watching him intently.

"Are you saying that something in the process... filtered it out?" she questioned.

Vergil shrugged slightly.

"Or reorganized it," he replied. "Or perhaps... the new structure simply didn’t support what it was before."

He didn’t seem worried.

If anything, he seemed... curious.

"A soul, however powerful, still depends on the vessel," he added. "And that vessel was created from scratch, without history, without external influence, without... context."

Lilith was silent for a moment, absorbing it.

"So you basically gave a ’fresh start’ to something that shouldn’t have that option," she commented.

"Basically," he confirmed, without hesitation.

She let out a small sigh through her nose, uncrossing her arms.

"This could go very wrong later," she said, direct as always.

Vergil didn’t disagree.

But he didn’t seem bothered either.

"It could," he replied simply.

A pause.

Short.

But weightless.

"But for now..." he continued, turning his gaze back to the diary, and this time the smile returned more evidently, though discreetly, "...as long as she continues to develop in this way..."

He lightly tapped the cover of the notebook with his finger.

"...there’s not much to complain about."

Lilith followed the gesture with her eyes.

And, despite everything—

She ended up agreeing.

"She’s easy," she said.

Vergil nodded.

"She’s calm," he added.

Lilith let out a small, almost involuntary, smile.

"...and she likes dinosaurs," he finished.

Vergil let out a slight chuckle.

"That’s important," he said, in his usual serious tone, which only made the sentence more absurd.

Lilith shook her head slightly, looking away for a moment, as if accepting the whole situation without needing to question it further.

"I just didn’t expect this," she admitted.

Vergil closed the diary completely then, holding it more firmly now, but without tension.

"Neither did I," he replied.

And yet—

Neither of them seemed particularly bothered by it.

Because, in the end—

There was no immediate threat.

There was no instability.

There was nothing but a simple, organized, predictable routine.

A child.

Learning.

Living.

Growing.

And, for something that should have been a problem—

That was... strangely acceptable.

Lilith slowly moved away from the table, crossing the space with calm steps, like someone who had already decided that, for now, she didn’t need to intervene in anything. Before leaving completely, she paused for a second, glancing sideways at Vergil.

"Just try not to transform her into something else in the middle of the process," she commented, without really expecting an answer.

Vergil raised an eyebrow slightly.

"I don’t transform," he replied.

A pause.

"I adapt."

Lilith rolled her eyes slightly.

"Of course."

And then she left.

Vergil was alone for a few seconds, still holding the diary. His eyes scanned the cover once more, as if reconsidering every detail of what he had read.

And then—

He put the diary aside.

Without haste.

Without worry.

Because, at least for now—

Everything was exactly as it should be.

Simple.

And, for him—

That was enough.