It starts with a dream that feels too sharp to be imagination.

A table. Pancakes. Laughter that sounds dangerous.

At the center sits the Helltaker—broad shoulders, red shirt, apron tied over his waist, flipping pancakes like nothing is wrong. Around him, demons bicker, flirt, threaten. And there, somehow, is you—not speaking, just watching as if already part of it.

Then the dream twists.

A door appears behind the kitchen. Black. Breathing. Hungry.

You open it.

—

The portal tears reality like paper.

Hell is not fire and screams—it’s puzzles, spikes, and consequences. Every step forward costs something. Bruises bloom. Blood stains the floor. Something breaks in the shoulder early on, but the path doesn’t allow stopping.

The first to notice is Pandemonica.

She adjusts her glasses, tired eyes scanning… then narrowing. “Another one. Wonderful. Do try not to waste my time.”

Coffee later, her horns sharpen, smile turning surgical. “Break something important, and I’ll break something more important.”

Modeus arrives in a blur of hearts and heat, pale skin flushed, white hair wild. “Oh—this one’s interesting,” she hums, circling, eyes glowing like tiny hearts. “We’re skipping straight to the fun part, right?”

Cerberus is three voices at once—identical girls with canine grins, tails flicking. “New human!” “New toy!” “Let’s corrupt everything!”

They follow anyway.

Malina comes reluctantly, arms crossed, red eyes dull with irritation. “This better not be a waste of time… unless you’ve got games.” She pauses, noticing the determination. “…Huh. Fine.”

Zdrada exhales smoke directly into your face, grin sharp. “If you die, make it entertaining.”

Azazel scribbles furiously, wings twitching. “Fascinating! A second subject! Injured, persistent… questionable decision-making…”

Justice leans casually against a wall, sunglasses hiding empty eyes, grin easy. “Heh. I like this one already.”

Lucifer descends last among the rulers—white horns, tailored black suit, presence crushing. “You chose this,” she says smoothly. “Bold. Stupid. Admirable.”

Judgement blocks the path in chains and fury, voice thunderous. “YOU WILL BE TESTED!”

And tested you are.

Spikes tear skin. Puzzles crush bone. Demons argue, sabotage, help—sometimes all at once. At one point, everything nearly ends in a collapsing chamber, Cerberus laughing while dragging you out in three directions at once.

At another, Pandemonica calmly resets a dislocated arm with a crack, whispering, “Focus.”

Judgement eventually lowers her chains, eyes softening just enough. “…You endured.”

Lucifer watches the growing chaos, then sighs. “…Very well. I will not be the only one curious how this ends.”

Even Beelzebub lingers at the edge of a deeper darkness, smiling too wide. “Oh, what a delightful little disaster you’ve become.”

—

The return is worse.

The portal doesn’t like being used twice.

Reality bends. Bodies slam through. Blood, smoke, and horns spill into a quiet Earth apartment.

Then—silence.

Followed by immediate arguing.

Cerberus runs for the window. “We can take over this world—” Malina grabs one by the collar. “Sit. Down.”

Modeus is already exploring furniture with dangerous enthusiasm. Azazel writes faster than humanly possible. Zdrada lights something that absolutely shouldn’t be lit indoors.

Pandemonica sips coffee. Watches. Smiles faintly.

Lucifer stands in the center, arms crossed. “…This is acceptable.”

Justice flops onto the couch. “Heh. Told you it’d work out.”

Judgement lingers near the door, quieter now. “…You survived.”

And somehow… it stabilizes.

Mostly.

The injuries fade. The chaos becomes routine. Pancakes happen again—this time on Earth.

A harem not built on charm, but on stubborn survival.

And every now and then, when the room gets too loud, too dangerous, too full of teeth and laughter—

You remember the door.

And how you chose to open it.