Chapter Text
6 Hours Old
Satan remembered exactly how he felt the day that he officially became a father. At first, he had been riddled with anxiety, before even having the chance to lay his eyes on his son for the very first time. Anxiety about whether this little spawn of his would be the one, first and foremost. And if it was, if it was destined to become his heir, would he be capable of being a good father? Would he have the time needed to dedicate towards raising a son, especially one meant to one day stand in his place?
It was his first attempt at procuring a suitable heir, so there was always the chance that this one wouldn’t turn out to be what he needed. That he would have to start all over again and hope that the next one worked out. Satan sincerely hoped that this could be a one and done deal, though. It had required way too much work to get to this point. A failed attempt would be incredibly disappointing, not to mention a complete waste of his valuable time.
Various kinds of thoughts continued to swirl in his head as his anxiety took hold. What if there was something wrong with it? Such as a developmental disability? Or a physical deformation? What if it couldn’t talk? Or see? Satan was certain that he would have been informed of such a thing should that have been the case, but he just couldn’t seem to shake those kinds of thoughts as he was making his way through the halls of his mansion to his quarters.
The Prince of Darkness was sure that he had entertained every singular possibility that could have gone wrong with this entire thing. Disappointment was the number one thing that he had prepared himself to experience, even after gaining assurances that the child was healthy and most likely fit to take on the proper role of the anti-Christ. Satan would see for himself whether that was truly the case. After all, it was extremely pertinent that he chose wisely. If he made the wrong decision it could backfire severely and ruin all of his future plans. His entire kingdom could be at risk of total collapse should he choose to raise a child that was not worthy enough to become a powerful ruler.
That aspect also added to his anxiety, but Satan was fairly confident that the moment he saw the child for himself, that he would know whether it was going to be the one.
He asked to be left alone during this important decision, so it was only him who entered the room. A smaller room that he’d had specially built off of his own quarters, just big enough to fit a crib, bassinet, a changing station, closet, and a place to sit with the child. Essentially…a nursery.
That was where he’d asked the child to be taken as soon as he was brought into the underworld.
Satan crept as silently as he possibly could with his massive form and heavy hooves towards the bassinet placed in the middle of the room. As he approached, he could make out a small little bundle nestled inside. He came to a stop right beside the black bassinet and peered down at the tiny creature that was sleeping soundly all wrapped up snugly in his swaddle.
For a good minute, Satan simply stared and watched him sleep silently.
He could feel an energy source emanating from the tiny bundle, a strong energy source. Much stronger than any ordinary newborn would possess at this size and age. That was a good sign. A very, very good sign. However, Satan could not ascertain for absolute certainty whether this child was a hundred percent suited to follow in his footsteps. Not until he could hold him and inspect him a little more closely.
Carefully, he expelled just the smallest fragment of his own energy to gently lift the child out of the bassinet, bringing him up until he fit into the palm of his giant red hand. He was much too small for Satan to physically pick up using his hands without the risk of possibly squishing him like a little bug. Now wouldn’t that be a very unfortunate circumstance?
The infant made a little noise and smacked his lips together as he began to wiggle about in his palm. Satan couldn’t help but to hold his breath, wondering if that would be the moment that he would open his eyes, but the little babe settled back down fairly quickly, continuing his slumber.
There was a tad bit of disappointment that filled him, but he didn’t let it get to him too much. There were still other ways of determining whether this child was meant to become his rightful heir.
Lifting his other hand, Satan used a bit more energy to undo the fabric of the swaddle. He paused when the fabric came away to reveal what he’d been hoping he would find all along. From the waist up, this child appeared almost entirely human, with the exception of his ears—the cartilage bending to meet into a point at the tip of the ear rather than the typical curvature that all humans possessed. However, from the waist down, he looked anything but human.
Where Satan partially expected a pair of chubby beige-colored legs to be were instead a pair of stocky goat-like hind legs that mirrored the shape of his own—fluffy and like the color of black obsidian. A color which matched perfectly with the infant's jet-black full head of hair. Peeking around his right leg just slightly was another body part unfamiliar to humans—the tiniest little wisp of a tail, also black and slightly fluffy.
There was certainly no doubt about it—this child was his.
It wasn’t until Satan came face-to-face with these things that he was smacked pretty hard by that realization.
Even so…
He couldn’t allow himself to get attached so soon. Not when he had yet to fully verify that this little one was a keeper.
With as much gentleness as he could muster, he, ever so carefully, brought the tip of his forefinger down to place atop the infant’s chest. It was subtle, but with every tiny breath he could feel the slow rise and fall of it beneath his fingertip.
Satan let his eyes fall shut, concentrating deeply to suss out more of the child’s energy from within.
That was when he sensed it. A familiar warmth that felt like an extension of his own power flowing through the tiny body. It was not only familiar, but inviting, comforting even. It was his power coursing through these veins, pulsating steadily beneath the skin, and the connection was strong.
When the Prince of Darkness opened his eyes once more and retracted his hand, he was caught off guard by the pair of deep crimson irises staring back at him.
Satan knew then, from that very moment, that this child was very special indeed. This child was a living, breathing extension of him, and although its form was so very tiny, so small, the power that it harnessed within was immense. Any ordinary child would not be capable of surviving such power inside or outside of the womb. Not without succumbing to a very quick and sudden demise. The vessel would be eaten alive completely from the inside out if it was not strong enough to contain his power.
This infant…this child…was more than powerful enough to sustain it.
He watched in slight awe as the little body contorted itself, blinking slowly while moving its arms and legs to stretch out across his palm. He kicked his hooved feet, a high-pitched whimper slipping past his lips, and one of his hands jerked forward as he stretched. Satan blinked, and in that split second, a small ball of fire shot forward, clocking him straight in the face.
Satan was barely phased by the attack, it hardly stung. More so, he was shocked by the fact that, not only could he sustain his power, but…he could actually use it.
The shock, however, quickly wore away into excitement, and Satan found his lips twitching up to form a satisfied, prideful grin.
This child was exceptional. Absolutely perfect in every single way. There was no doubt that this petite little thing was destined to become his little nugget of future destruction.
Satan could finally let his tense muscles relax, exhaling a small sigh of relief. Not just because it had been a success on the first try, but…the kid was just so damn adorable that it would have been a shame to have to dispose of him, he thought.
Those intense crimson eyes watched him almost curiously. No fear whatsoever behind them. Just a general interest as he took in something new to his fresh set of eyes.
Satan felt a piece of his heart melt just a tad that day.
When he did finally speak, he kept his voice low with a gentle calmness to it so as not to startle the little tyke with his deep timber.
“You may be small now, but…you will grow. And as you do, you will become an unstoppable force with tremendous power. You will rule in my name. And this kingdom…it will some day belong to you.”
The Prince of Darkness lifted his hand a little higher to bring his heir in closer to him. And as he took his time closely admiring this dynamic bundle of promise and marveling at the beauty of his success, he smiled.
“My son—Damien.”