The Underworld was never kind to young children, not their souls, not the unfortunate ones who were born there with no chance of redemption.

The skys painted a deep red, with a moon an even darker shade, a forever night that wouldn't let up for the brightest of souls.

King Alkor, ruler of the Ring of Lust, sat on his dark throne. His long white care contrasted his darker skin. His yellow eyes glowed in judgement. Servants on either side of him, while a small demon played in front of him.

His cold gaze flicked to the child occasionally. Alkor rubbed the bridge of his nose, and he exhaled purple fire. His claws scraping the edge.

"Child, get up"