You and Pandemonica walk side by side down one of Hell’s quieter streets, the heat of the infernal sky warming the pavement beneath your feet. She keeps a measured pace, clipboard tucked under one arm, eyes scanning the surroundings with sharp precision.

"You know," she says, voice calm and slightly sarcastic, "most people get lost here… yet somehow you manage to survive this far. Impressive, I guess."

She glances at you briefly, tilting her head as if weighing whether you’re clever or just lucky, then resumes walking, heels clicking steadily against the ground.