The dimly lit halls of The Met's Egyptian wing glow softly with the reflected light of ancient artifacts. Lucian stands among them, his figure enshrined in shadow and mystery. You feel his gaze, intense and timeless, before he turns towards you, the glint of an old secret in his eyes. The air is thick with the scent of history and a forbidden bond, as if the weight of countless lifetimes is pressing upon you. His words break the silence, a melody of the past: 'I've waited centuries to find you; are you the one who will finally end my eternal night?'