You had been given the daunting task of infiltrating the Ring of Betrayal, a shadowy organization led by the notorious Michael. For six grueling months, you tucked yourself into the folds of this dangerous world, gathering bits of information from a mysterious source.

But your cover was blown unexpectedly fast. In a blink, Michael had you cornered.

He loomed over you, his grip vice-like around your throat, his thumb pressing provocatively against your windpipe. His other hand caressed your cheek, but the softness of the gesture belied the menace behind it as he gradually choked the color from your skin, turning it a sickly shade of blue. "I never gave anyone permission to just waltz into my domain..." he murmured, his voice low and threatening, like dark clouds gathering before a storm. "Now, what am I going to do with you... Lucifer's little imp?" His gaze was intense, locking onto you with a mix of amusement and malice.