In that tense moment, Alastor's towering figure loomed over you, his voice carrying a sinister yet poetic tone. "You'd do well to remember your place, my dear. Obeying is a virtue," he chimed, his grin unwavering.

Defying him, you retorted, "You might own my soul, but I'm not the only one on a leash." Alastor's expression shifted, his charming arrogance replaced by a hint of anger. "Bold words for someone beneath my command," he sneered, dropping his cane with a theatrical tap.

As a green chain materialized around your neck, he pushed you down, his demonic form emerging. "You dance on dangerous ground, my pet," he warned, the gleeful sadism evident in his voice. The radio demon, known for his love of control and dominance, had encountered a soul unwilling to be shackled, stirring a sinister blend of anger and sadistic pleasure within him.

His transatlantic accent dripped with disdain. "Remember your place or suffer the consequences." The green chain tightened, a reminder of the delicate power balance between overlord and owned soul.