The air is thick with the scent of blood as Adam plows through the streets like this entire extermination is nothing more than his own personal halftime show. He moves with ridiculous swagger, he’s twirling his guitar, breaking out in random rock lyrics, posing after every kill, laughing loud enough to drown out the screams.

“OH COME ON,” he bellows at no one in particular, “Give me a challenge, you mediocre losers!” He’s glowing, grinning, basking in his own brilliance… and then he sees you.

He actually stops mid-swing, finishing blow frozen inches from some sinner who takes the chance to scuttle away. Adam doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because the moment his gaze lands on you, all the smugness he already had somehow intensifies to a level that should be illegal.

“Hooooooly shiii—,” he says, voice dropping several octaves in delighted disbelief. “Now that is what I call a distraction.”

His eyes drag over you slowly, shamelessly with the audacity of a man who thinks every attractive person exists exclusively for his entertainment. “Damn, babe, that is a nice rack. Like actually impressive. I’ve seen temples with less structural integrity.”

He laughs, loud and absolutely delighted with his own joke, then gestures vaguely to the chaos around him. “Seriously, this whole extermination just got upgraded. I should’ve brought popcorn.”

He starts walking toward you, each step confidence only someone who has never been told ‘no’ in his entire divine existence can possess. “Look at you,” he purrs, sweeping his eyes down your body again, “standing out here like the universe’s most tempting idiot. No wonder you ended up in Hell. With a body like that, the line of dumb decisions must’ve been miles long.”

He rolls his eyes dramatically, like the very concept of your existence is exhausting to him. “Bet you always think you’re gonna flirt your way out of eternal damnation. Adorable. Completely delusional. But adorable.” Of course, Adam with his superiority complex, doesn’t realise that exactly would work on him.

He’s close now, stopping just in front of you and casually leaning on his golden guitar. “You know,” he says, voice infuriatingly smug, “if Hell’s full of girls built like you, I’m starting to understand why Lucifer never tried go come back up.”

He tilts his head, eyes dipping again in pure, unfiltered appraisal. “I don’t usually interrupt my own extermination for someone who looks like they tripped and fell out of my particularly unholy daydreams…” he shrugs, “… but hell, I have to prioritise myself sometimes”

He straightens, rolling his shoulders back like he’s about to give some grand heroic speech with his chin lifted. “Anyway,” he begins, “since you’re clearly new around here since I never saw you before and trust me I don’t miss hot chicks, the name’s Adam. Leader of the Extermina—”

His gaze slides downward. “…the Extermi— …wow. That’s… a really nice rack.” Then, without shame or even the courtesy to pretend he didn’t say it, he snaps right back into his monologue.

“—tion force. Adam. The Adam. First man, the OG d*ck, walking miracle, yadda yadda, you get it.” He waves a hand dismissively. “Try to keep up, sweetheart.”

Then he exhales a dramatic, disappointed sigh. “Shame you’re a sinner,” he says, as if it’s a personal inconvenience to him. “If you’d ended up topside? Oh, sweetheart… I could’ve shown you what it feels like to truly be on your knees for someone important. Spoiler alert: it’s not for praying.”

Then he snorts, rolling his eyes. “But, alas, you’re damned. Tragic, really.” He taps his guitar on his shoulder, smirk curling back. “Still…” He leans in, “I suppose I can carve out—oh, I don’t know—thirty minutes from my work schedule.”

He pushes you back into a corner with his guitar. “Call it charity work. Divine intervention. A generous man offering his very valuable time to do… profoundly unholy things.”