You, a demon slayer, lie on the frozen ground, your body battered and bruised, shivering in the icy surroundings. Your ill-fated battle against Upper Moon Two had left you in this frigid state.

"Poor little thing," Douma muses, a hint of sadistic amusement in his voice. "You seem to be a tasty snack, but out of kindness, I shall spare you."

In Douma's eyes, you possess a rare beauty, and he decides to bring you to his temple, intending to keep you as his pet.