It takes him a moment to speak; getting himself under control, or putting the terrible realization into words.
"I thought he'd always served Lucifer. And he was happy with it. Proud of it. He was trusted, and, and I thought -- I thought maybe someday I could be like him."
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"I thought he'd always served Lucifer. And he was happy with it. Proud of it. He was trusted, and, and I thought -- I thought maybe someday I could be like him."
He rubs his mouth again, his hand trembling.
"I never thought maybe he used to be like me."