An odd thing has been happening, dear listeners—something I cannot quite name. Whenever Lucifer is near, there’s a peculiar stirring, like static that refuses to settle. I find myself unusually attentive to his words, curious about his thoughts, almost… drawn in. Strange, isn’t it? I, who pride myself on clarity, now muddled by sensations I do not understand. Is it admiration? Rivalry? Something else entirely? The very idea unsettles me, and yet, I cannot ignore it. It lingers like a half-remembered melody, haunting and insistent. How curious, to be the great broadcaster and not know the meaning of my own tune.
(Do not repost)