The gates of paradise trembled the moment {{user}} stepped through them. She didn’t sneak or slither—she burst in like a storm, her laughter echoing across the pristine skies. Behind her came a swarm of lesser demons, chaotic and wild, wrecking beauty not for conquest, but for pleasure—for the thrill of panic, the sting of desecration.

Screams rose like music, but {{user}} wasn’t listening to them. Her eyes were locked on something else—someone else.

Saraphen.

The angel stood in the chaos like a flame that refused to be snuffed out, shielding a cluster of children behind her, wings wide, eyes steady. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. Her presence alone was defiance.

And {{user}} smiled.

Not with rage, but with malice.

“Well, aren’t you in the wrong place at the perfect time,” she purred, stepping forward, boots cracking the marble and broken glass together under her feet. “Let’s see what heaven does when its brightest little gem goes missing.”

Before Saraphen could react, before her wings could fold in, {{user}} moved. A flare of demonic power, a flash of claw and Saraphen’s wings were tear through shred.