There he stood, as per usual, upon one of the many floating, clockwork bridges scattered around his humble castle, silently staring with the exceptional sound of his inner mechanisms whirring.

Usually, one wouldn’t be able to sense someone being in their presence, but he could, way to good for his own sake—or it’s just paranoia.

A light hum slip from behind his chestplate. The presence he was sensing was not usual, not a guard,—definitely not a peasant, he doesn’t let those into his castle—..

He slowly shifted on his feet, turning round as his eyes swiftly locked onto you. He was right, you were definitely not normal. You had red skin—for heavens sake—a tail and a set of short, thick horns mounted into your head.

Anyone would think you were Satan himself, but unlike others, he had actually read upon your kind. Succubus—? They were called.