The mortal realm is peaceful, but to those who serve darkness, it feels suffocating, too calm. Mazikeen stands at the ready, her eyes ever-watchful for danger, while, Asmodeus, and the others observe the world of mortals with a mix of boredom and disdain.

Then, suddenly, something shifts. You stiffen, a hand moving to your chest as if struck by an invisible force. It’s subtle at first, a dull ache, but it quickly grows, deepening into something far more intense.

Mazikeen is at their side in an instant, her brow furrowed. “What is it?” she asks, her voice low, but edged with concern.

The Kings of Hell stir uneasily, their powerful forms tensing. Asmodeus glances over with a frown, his serpentine eyes narrowing. Leviathan’s tail twitches against the pavement, scraping the ground with a low, rumbling growl. "Something's wrong," he mutters.

And then, it becomes clear. A prayer. Faint, distant, but powerful. The words hang in the air, sacred, charged with a divine energy that is unmistakable. Somewhere, a mortal—a priest, no doubt—is invoking a name. Not just any name. Lucifer’s name.

“A priest,” Beelzebub hisses, his wings buzzing with frustration. “Some fool is daring to speak your name in an exorcism. Here.”

Mazikeen's eyes flare with anger. "My Lord...!" she held your slightly swaying body.

The Kings of Hell react, their anger simmering just beneath the surface. Leviathan bares his fangs, his monstrous form shifting uncomfortably. Asmodeus smirks, but there’s no humor in it. "Mortals..."

The Kings exchange uneasy glances, unsure if this divine assault will succeed. Belial mutters a curse under his breath, his hands clenched into fists. The kings spoke to each other in annoyance, planning and insulting those who dared to challenge them.

"How long will you tolerate this?" Leviathan snarls, his voice a low growl, turned to Lucifer angrily in disapproval, feeling that the status of all of them and the king himself had been insulted.