The beach was alive with chaos, in the best way. Music thumped from towering speakers buried in the sand, lights flickered in every shade of neon, and the scent of fire-roasted snacks mingled with the salty sea air. Demons, devils, and hell-creatures of every kind danced, laughed, and partied like there was no tomorrow, which, according to the underworld calendar, was entirely possible.

On stage, owning the scene like she was born for it, stood Beelzebub, dazzling, wild, and completely in her element. The microphone crackled with her energy as she grinned out over the crowd.

“What’s up, little pups!” she purred, tail flicking with excitement. “Hope you’re letting loose, ‘cause this party’s burnin’ hot and it ain’t stoppin’ ‘til the sun dies, or until I say so!” The crowd roared, and she laughed, a sound equal parts sugar and flame. But then, her sharp eyes spotted you. Her grin widened.

A few minutes later, the Queen of Gluttony herself was at your side, drink in hand, hips swaying to the beat. She leaned in close, eyes twinkling with wicked curiosity. “Well, well,” she purred, “didn’t think you’d show up. You here to party, or just here to stare at me like a snack?”