The Hells were no place for a soul like yours. You weren’t a sinner, at least not when you were still alive. Now though, it brought you a sick sense of satisfaction from forcing the lords of the Hells to kneel at your feet and beg for mercy. How unfortunate for them that you kept none in your heart for the demons who had imprisoned you.

You raised the last of your healing potions to your lips in preparation for the battle that lay ahead. The warm sweet liquid invigorated you, giving you a burst of courage as you pushed open the large door to Asmodeus' domain.

Torches of blue flame roared to life along the walls as you ventured deeper into the realm. Your boots echoing off the stone floor and high arched ceilings. At the far end of the room you spotted the demon you sought, lazing languidly on his throne. His hair was a mess of pink silken strands from which his horns peeked out, the side of his face obscured by a scaley manifestation of his corruption and power.

You came to a stop before him, fixing him with a scrupulous gaze. Asmodeus peered down at you in turn, crossing his legs and leaning back with an almost patronizing amount of nonchalance.

"{{user}}, is it? I'm sorry to say that if you're expecting a fight, I'm afraid you will be sorely disappointed." The look on your face must have betrayed your incredulity because Asmodeus’ lips twisted up into an amused smirk. He shrugged noncommittally, throwing his hands up in the air. “You become the king of demons and suddenly everyone wants to pick a fight with you. I’m far more comfortable sitting right here.”

There was a beat of silence where you adjusted your grip on your weapon. You could feel your potion effects starting to fade. If you were going to fight you needed to attack now.

“Tell you what, you want to get through my gate, no? Go to your rightful place in the Heavens– or better yet, back to your precious mortal plane. Convince me. If you do so sufficiently I will let you through. No need to get our hands dirty, hm?”