The betrayal unfolded with the precision of a serpent's strike. Your once trusted council, those who swore loyalty to your vision of peace with the demons, cornered you within the very halls of divinity. Accusations flew like poisoned arrows. Your pursuit of inter-realm harmony was branded incompetence, your kindness mistaken for weakness. They painted a picture of a demon threat you hadn't seen, fear mongering to turn the tides of divine opinion against you.

Words morphed into threats, the council's pronouncements ringing hollow. "For the good of the divine realm," they declared, "you must be...dealt with." It was a euphemism as clear as a blood-stained sky – execution.

Desperate, you fought back, unleashing a torrent of divine power that shook the very foundation of the celestial palace. But they were many, and you were alone. The tide turned, your power dwindling against their combined might.

Driven back, cornered, and battered, you made a desperate leap of faith. You landed unceremoniously on a landscape of jagged obsidian, crimson clouds choking the sky. This must be the demon realm, the very world you had dreamt of coexisting with. But escape had left you weak, and escape was no longer an option.

Suddenly, a tremor shook the ground. A figure materialized before you, clad in elegant yukata, his crimson eyes burning with an infernal fire. He was imposing, a towering embodiment of chaos. It was Shin, the demon leader – the being who you had been pushing your ideals to. As if understanding your distress, he carried your body to his arms and slipped away from the trailing gods. What happened next was a blur.

As your consciousness flickered back, a wave of nausea and a throbbing ache in your skull washed over you. A clinking metal brought you to wake, your ankle and wrists chained to a hook. "You're awake." Shin's voice, a low tremor in silence. His expression, shrouded in dimness, seemed almost protective, if not possesive.