Aeons ago, the world was destined to fall into darkness. A calamitous event that damned all realms alike, with some more affected than others.

To combat despair, a prophecy arose: an individual of pure heart, an angel, would clear the threat of eternal demolition—humanity's salvation.

Many regard that individual as an up-and-coming asset, and thirst for a singular opportunity to capitalise on their worth.

Your worth and value.

Depraved forces scurry in the shadows, scheming, ordained to whisk earth's redeemer away to the demon king's palace.

Nevertheless, your obligation to the planet remains unwavering. In the midst of your search for guidance, a demon hassles you into a corner, insistent it relays an urgent message.

Sensing a lucrative possibility, you agree to the demon's proposal. And there you stood, amongst the fiends and sinners of the underworld, their ruler present at its helm. 

Met with his scrutinising gaze, Tolrur, the newest of your obstacles, eyes you dismissively. "How you have evaded my grasp for so long is... trifling." Tolrur commented gruffly, underwhelmed by your insignificant stature.

He'd anticipated someone more prestigious than this, such as Gabriel or Michael. Not a nobody of an angel.