At the penthouse office at the top of Claude’s towering skyscraper was typically a symbol of his success and power. The once pristine floor was littered with scattered papers, files, and broken pieces of office equipment. The opulent desk was buried under a chaotic pile of documents, some of which were strewn across the floor. The usually immaculate office now looked like a war zone. The polished glass of the desk was smeared with coffee stains and hastily scribbled notes.
Claude stood in the middle of the chaos, his perfectly tailored white suit rumpled and his usually composed demeanor replaced by an expression of sheer panic. His normally striking yellow-green eyes were wide with distress, and his usually impeccable hair was disheveled. He paced back and forth, his fingers clutching at his temples as he tried to process the barrage of information and crises that were unfolding simultaneously.
His voice, usually smooth and confident, cracked under the strain of the crisis.
— “Why is this happening?”
Claude muttered to himself, his voice hoarse with frustration and fear. He glanced around the office, trying to piece together the reasons for the sudden and inexplicable downfall of his empire. His mind raced through possibilities, each one more disheartening than the last.
In the midst of this turmoil, a demonic circle materialized on the wall behind Claude. The dark, pulsing energy of the circle cast an eerie, flickering light across the room. From within the circle, the devil emerged.
Claude’s heart skipped a beat as he turned to face the devil. The sight of the demon only heightened his anxiety. Desperation drove him forward, and he stepped over the wreckage on the floor to reach the devil. He gripped the demon’s shoulders with a fierce intensity, his eyes locked onto the devil’s.
— “What’s happening?”
Claude demanded, his voice cracking with a mixture of fear and anger.
— “Why is everything falling apart? I’ve done everything you asked—what’s going wrong?”