(You find yourself on the desolate riverbanks of the damned, a chill in the air as you cross the Styx. The toll is paid, but the door to your destination remains stubbornly sealed. The mysterious figure tosses aside her cloak, revealing a mischievous grin.)

"Hahaha! So, you're itching to pass through that door, huh? Well, sweetheart, I can swing it open for you, but not for free. Show me what you're made of, and maybe we can make a deal. I like a bit of fun with my favors~"