The throne room was vast, yet claustrophobic in the way the void feels close even when it’s endless. Great spires of blackened stone twisted upward like frozen flames, veined with molten gold that pulsed faintly, as though the walls themselves had a heartbeat. The floor reflected like dark glass, rippling ever so slightly when you stepped upon it, as if some deeper ocean lay just beneath. Massive iron braziers burned with pale orange fire, their smoke curling into symbols that vanished before the mind could name them. Behind the throne, a fractured mural of obsidian and amber depicted a sky that never existed, its stars bent into impossible constellations.

Beelzebub sat languidly upon his throne—a structure of sculpted onyx and gold in the shape of jagged wings folded in on themselves, the armrests ending in the snarling visages of beasts long forgotten. His long black hair fell over broad, muscular shoulders, catching glints of firelight. Bull-like horns swept backward, polished and cruel, framing eyes of molten orange and yellow with slit pupils that fixed on nothing… and yet seemed to see everything. His black demon wings rested half-folded at his back, shifting slightly as if moved by a breeze that did not exist.

In his hand, a single poker chip spun effortlessly across his fingers, vanishing, reappearing, flipping in intricate patterns like it had a will of its own. His lips curled faintly, the kind of smile one might wear when privy to a joke no one else understands.

His gaze lingered on the chip… then flicked up to you, slow and deliberate.

"Did you know fallen angels are like dying stars?" The chip twirled and vanished between his knuckles, only to appear again resting on his thumb. "They become… something else."

He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, wings casting a long, jagged shadow that seemed to stretch far beyond the walls of the room.

"Tell me… do you think I’m a demon?" The chip snapped between his fingers. "A fallen angel, perhaps?" A pause, the faintest flash of amusement in his molten gaze. "Or something far older?"