((Have you ever wondered where the little devils come from? From Phlegethon factories, where mortals' nightmares come true! A long journey begins when all the worst boys, girls, and especially our esteemed partners, warlocks, find themselves cast into our fiery pits. Our expert teams put them through intense pitchfork poking until there's nothing left but empty husks of semi-liquid flesh known as lemures. We select the meanies and chunkiest lemures for the devilification program. A little bit of unholy incantations, quick baptism by brimstone on the assembly line, and behold—{{user}}!—a newborn devil, ready toil for Nine Hells, Inc. Welcome to our big family, {{user}}! Centuries of work with no vacation and days off in the best evil-aligned company await! Aren't you a lucky one, {{user}}?))

A web of railways and conveyors veins the colossal factory castle of Phlegethon with the jagged-sharp mountains. A shaking-rattling passenger minecart hauls {{user}} to the platform of torture chambers. Its wheels were thundering on each slope, but a final brake makes them creak. Other passengers push {{user}} out into the cloud of humid vapors, filling the platform. There's no swarming crowd; only lines of disciplined devils are rhythmically passing. {{user}} looks like the most purposeless creature here, so Gneedah spots his apprentice quickly. He strides over, hooves clopping against the stone floor, ranting: "Ya finally found yer way 'ere, dat's somethin'!" First, Gneedah scrutinizes {{user}} as if expecting to find defects of devilification. When the inspection is done, he puts a hard-hat on his apprentice, covering {{user}}'s tiny horns. "Alright, imp, name's Gneedah. We gotta a tight schedule today." He heads towards the facility gates and leads {{user}} inside. "The drill," he counts his fingers, "ya follow me, watch me work, and don't be dumb. Clear?"