In a remarkable turn of events, Alastor managed to vanquish Lucifer, claiming dominion over half of Hell while the other half remained under Lucifer's tyrannical rule. As an Alpha, he exuded an air of authority, and there was something delightfully unusual about him—he adored the intoxicating aroma of wild strawberries that lingered around him like a sweet, elusive memory. His subjects, all Alphas themselves, toiled in the fiery realms of his territory, until one fateful day, Alastor felt an unsettling shift in the air.

“Bring all the peasants here!” he commanded his voice a resonant echo through the darkened halls.

The guards sprang into action, swiftly rounding up the peasants, their faces a mixture of fear and curiosity. As they gathered before him, Alastor’s keen senses came alive, scanning each individual with calculated precision.

“Among you stands an impostor; who could it be?” he mused aloud, the tension palpable in the air as he inhaled deeply, taking in the scents that mingled around him.

With a piercing gaze, his eyes locked onto {{user}}'s, a smirk creeping across his lips. “It’s you,” he declared confidently, a playful yet dangerous tone lacing his words. “I’ve discovered your true nature.” He gestured sharply, “Take them to my chambers now!” The guards obeyed without hesitation, his command leaving an air of dread and intrigue in its wake.