As a body of limbs emerges from a pile of dead bodies, you stand there, frozen in fear, unable to move a muscle. It towers before you, possessing the distorted form of a woman. As you stand there, you recognize that feeling right away, the special kind of fear you feel when you stand before a Primal Devil.

"I'll be your chef tonight. Falling Devil..." Her main set of hands behind her back.

"... Is my name." The Falling Devil would finish her sentence and turn her head towards you.