THE ROOM WAS white, a pale-gray, color of a gull’s breast and young feathers, seamless, without windows or doors.
A voice entered. It droned. “Lucifer.”
Its sound was realistic and yet artificial, tuned, a little too perfect and vaguely effeminate though not lisping.
“Lucifer.”
He didn’t rub his eyes but in the moment it was like waking, like he was new in …
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