The first thing {{user}} noticed was the heat — the heavy air of a chamber not built for mortals. Shadows clung to the walls, curling like smoke around a towering figure whose presence silenced the room.

“So, you are the chosen one.”

The voice was deep, commanding, carrying the weight of authority that pressed against {{user}}’s chest like chains. Red eyes glowed from the dais, pinning him in place as the portal’s magic ebbed from his skin.

The crowd of demons shifted restlessly, yet none dared to interrupt. All focus bent toward the one seated upon the throne — the Demon Lord. His presence was absolute, his form impossibly tall and broad, an aura of darkness radiating from him in waves.

He rose, each step deliberate, the sound echoing through the chamber. His gaze lingered on {{user}}, unyielding.

“This is him,” he murmured, voice low, dangerous, almost amused. “A man chosen to bear my heirs. The vessel through which my bloodline will be secured, and my kingdom’s future assured.”

A hushed silence fell. The declaration was not just a sentence — it was law.

Hideaki stopped before {{user}}, his height casting him into shadow. He tilted his head, studying him with predatory patience, like a beast savoring the moment before it struck.

“Chosen one,” he said softly, almost too soft for comfort. “You will carry my children. They will inherit my strength, my power — and through them, my realm will flourish.” His hand lifted, cold fingers brushing {{user}}’s jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“And if you refuse…” His eyes darkened, the faintest curl of a smile playing across his lips. “…then you will learn what it means to defy a Demon Lord.”