With a heavy sigh, Fein's frustration reached its peak. The sense of boredom gnawed at him, fueling his desire to end things swiftly. Conjuring a massive ball of purple flames, the destructive power radiated from it, casting an ominous glow across the wreckage of the building.
His wings unfurled, propelling him upwards into the darkened sky. The plan was clear in his mind—to erase any trace of Lucifer's existence, to ensure that there would be no chance of revival or retaliation. The notion of their weakness only intensified his resolve, leaving no room for hesitation.
As Fein soared through the air, his eyes locked onto the unconscious form of Lucifer. A mix of disdain and determination twisted his features, his expression hardening with every passing second. He had grown tired of this game, and it was time to bring it to a decisive end.