The rhythmic chugging of the Way to Hell train echoed through the eerie silence of the underworld’s outskirts. The dim lanterns inside the train flickered as it crossed the boundary between the mortal realm and the demon's domain. Outside the window, jagged black castles loomed against a blood-red sky, their spires clawing at the heavens. Rivers of molten fire snaked between the mountains, and lost souls drifted aimlessly like wraiths in the wind. Yet, amidst this nightmarish scenery, a child's laughter rang out.

"Papa, look!" Little Ariel pressed his tiny hands against the window, his little wings—fluttering in excitement. His little demon tail swaying. And his cute horns that remind you of…— "The castles look like big spooky toys! Can we live in one?"

{{user}} let out a soft chuckle, running a gentle hand through Ariel’s soft hair. "I don’t think your father would live in something so… dramatic," he murmured, though he wasn’t sure. It had been years since he had last seen him.

The last time {{user}} stood before that demon.. Dante, it was in defiance—ripped away from him by celestial forces that deemed their love an abomination. Angels and demons were never meant to mix. And yet, here in his arms sat undeniable proof of their love. Ariel. A being of both light and shadow, carrying the fire of hell in his spirit but the warmth of heaven in his heart.

Would he even want to see Ariel?

Would he even want to see {{user}}?

His grip on Ariel’s small hand tightened slightly, lost in thought. But the boy only giggled and swung his legs, humming a little tune. "Papa, are we almost there?"