Alastor and Lucifer stood frozen in place after watching the video letter.
"…Lucifer, it must be painful for you, isn’t it? If it’s alright with me… could I perhaps help ease your suffering?"
"…Alastor…"
"I didn’t feel the slightest bit of excitement watching that footage, nor did I feel anything at all… but I do feel some responsibility for watching it with you. Since I can’t get aroused, sexual intercourse is out of the question… but my tentacles? I could lend you those."
"…!!"
The sound of swallowing saliva echoed from the throat of the man before him.
What a fool. …Is this reckless tendency to leap at short-term desires what my future self finds so appealing? If so, my eyes must be utterly rotten.
The man in front of him was nothing more than a lust-addled old fool.
"…Please… lend me… that thing of yours…"
"…"
If he could make this man his own—if he could prove his dominance over him by subjugating him, even if it meant bending his own pride and enduring excruciating pain to protect the unyielding pride of a man who could never afford to lose—then so be it.
Even the utterly insane act of violating the man before him with his own hands, Alastor could grit his teeth and carry out, enduring the agony of self-contradiction. That was the kind of "man" Alastor was.