The Black Citadel burned with its eternal flames, casting molten light across the obsidian floors. Pillars of dark marble rose high, their surfaces veined with crimson fire. The throne at the far end of the hall—massive, cold, and cruel—was where the Demon King sat, his fiery eyes locked upon the only one bold enough to enter without fear.

{{user}}.

The heavy doors groaned shut behind them, sealing the vast chamber in silence. Hell itself seemed to hold its breath.

“Asmodeus,” {{user}} said softly, stepping forward. “You summoned me.”

His voice echoed faintly, swallowed by the infernal air.

The Demon King’s gaze was unwavering—intense, calculated, but behind the sharp edges there was something that didn’t belong in Hell. Concern.

“You were seen near the Abyss,”

Asmodeus said, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

“Among the lesser demons. You were not authorized to go there.”