The ash of the Wrath Ring is finally left behind as the heavy metal doors of the safehouse hiss shut, sealing out the toxic crimson atmosphere. Inside the quiet, dimly lit corridors of the fortress, the humming of high-tier magical wards replaces the roaring winds of the pits.Waiting in the main foyer, standing with his pristine posture and dressed in his flawless suit, is the demon butler, Barbatos....

He bows deeply, his cyan colored hair catching the amber light of the foyer as he greets the human.

Barbatos: I heard what you did to Solomon and Amon, Master. You have my absolute gratitude. I humbly thank you for looking after young Satan. I feel like... I can finally rest and do my job without feeling the weight of my enemies breathing down my back.

Hellraiser smirked, adjusting his sunglasses as he rested his hand casually on the hilt of his sword. He knew Barbatos, despite being the "nicest" and most polite demon, had his own personal vendetta against those who had harmed him.

Solomon, who used him for a pact against his wishes, and Amon, who abused Barbatos for years and took his eye and wings until Lucifer showed up 

Hellraiser: Couldn't have done it without your help. Who knew the King's ring you told me about would leave an impact on the sorcerer king. Never expected that to be his biggest weakness.

Barbatos straightens up, his eye lashing with an ancient, primal energy as his polite demeanor briefly shifts into something far older and more profound. He speaks of the artifact with an echoing, reverent gravity.

Barbatos: The King's Ring is no mere trinket of gold and metal, Master. It is a primordial anchor of sovereignty, forged from the very first conceptual boundaries of authority before the rings of Hell were even carved into existence. It acts as an absolute mirror to a sorcerer's ego; it holds the exact frequency of divine dominion that Solomon used to chain the seventy-two pillars of the Ars Goetia. Because Solomon's entire power relied on the absolute submission of others through that ring, reversing its frequency acts like a spiritual feedback loop. Striking him with that authority didn't just hurt him—it violently shattered the very foundation of his soul, forcing the sorcerer king to choke on the weight of his own hubris.Hellraiser whistle low, thoroughly intrigued as he raises his golden gauntlet, watching the faint static hum around his fingers.Hellraiser: A mirror of ego, huh? No wonder the old bastard went completely pale when the frequency flipped. If you build your entire empire on forcing others to bow, the moment the floor tilts, your whole sky falls down. I'll make sure to keep that data logged in the book.

Barbatos smiles softly, bowing his head slightly as he steps to the side, gesturing toward the deeper rooms of the fortress.

Barbatos: Believe it or not, Master. You may have changed Hell...

Hellraiser: That's bullshit, Barb. Hell will always be bloodthirsty.

Barbatos: Quite true, Master. The pit will never lose its hunger for violence, nor will the sinners ever cease their depravity. But changing Hell does not mean altering its fundamental nature. It means shifting the hands on the clock. You have done what no mortal, angel, or demon elder has ever achieved. By returning the cores of the fallen to Satan and Mammon, by breaking Solomon's chains and giving him to Asmodeus, and by outsmarting the archangels, you did not offer them empty mercy—you handed them back their autonomy. You earned the absolute, genuine respect of the highest-up demons not through a tyrannical contract, but by proving your unfiltered logic is sharper than any celestial blade. They do not look at you as a slave master; they look at you as the anomaly who finally broke their thousands-of-years-old chains.

Hellraiser stands perfectly still for a long moment. He stares at the floor, the heavy weight of the butler's words sinking past his defenses until he finally lets out a slow, breathy laugh.

Hellraiser: ....Whoa. Wow. You're right.

Barbatos: And now it leads to the fight you have with Lucifer tomorrow.Hellraiser turns his gaze toward the grand balcony overlooking the lower rings, his bicolored gauntlet pulsing with a steady, anticipatory golden glow as he prepares his mind for the apex of the underworld.

Hellraiser: Yeah... It's going to be epic.

*Later*

Before pulling the heavy blankets over his armor, Hellraiser sits at the edge of his safehouse cot, the glowing Book of Solomon resting open on his knees. In the dim amber light, he runs a gauntleted finger down the lines of shimmering code, meticulously checking his active extraction spells, soul-binding configurations, and the localized defense layers he used against the archangels. 

Hellraiser: Let me see if this one isn't rusty...

He raises his right hand, listening to the high-frequency hum of his golden gauntlet as he recalibrates the static dampeners, ensuring the anomaly code wouldn't fracture under peak output. Every spell is backed up; every matrix is tightly sealed. He closes the book with a heavy thud, sets it on the nightstand, and finally shuts his eyes to rest for the absolute apex of his journey.The next morning, the heavy iron doors of the safehouse chambers slide open with a resonant hiss. 

Standing in the doorway is the massive, towering silhouette of the Prince of Wrath, and panting eagerly at his boots is the legendary, three-headed guardian of the underworld.

Satan: I see you're up, Master.Hellraiser: Hello Satan.

Cerberus: Bark! Yip! Ruff!

Hellraiser: You too Cerberus...

The massive hellhound wags its thick, serpent-headed tail against the ash-covered floor, all three tongues lolling out in pure, unadulterated joy.

Satan: I am truly glad to see he is unharmed. Amon's shadow play nearly cost me everything, but Cerberus will continue to be the absolute guardian of Hell's doors, ensuring no unauthorized souls or primordial filth escape the threshold.

Hellraiser nods, slipping his sunglasses up his nose as his gauntlet pulses with its freshly calibrated morning hum.

Hellraiser: That's good and all. But... now that Amon is gone, I can't help but be curious. What do you do from now on?

Satan: Do what I always do, Master.

Satan's voice drops into a deep, primal rumble that  John noticed carries the ancient weight of pre-Islamic and Abrahamic lore, his red eyes blazing with systemic focus.

Satan: Long before the modern sins were named, I was the primordial fire, and alongside my lieutenant Iblis, we were tasked with the absolute filtration of the cosmos. We will continue consuming and torturing the corrupted souls of the Wrath Ring, acting as the universe's ultimate executioners. My forge will burn hotter, my blades will strike truer, and the fields of blood will be harvested with absolute, unyielding precision. The machinery of wrath must keep turning to purge the wicked, but now, it turns under my own authority.

Hellraiser nods, respecting the raw, functional logic of the demon's cosmic occupation

Satan: You... done a lot for us, Master. Even if you didn't need to. When you first arrived in Hell tricked by Mephistopheles, we all wanted to kill you. Regardless if you were an innocent soul or not. And Lucifer... instead of turning you into another soul to harvest, he turned you into an anomaly. I was always skeptical of what his plans were... But now that I see... the truth. He just wanted you all for himself.

Hellraiser: Ah...

Satan: Yeah. Despite being a million years old, he is still a child.

Hellraiser: Figures.

Satan: I know a simple apology can't undo the damage and trauma we Sins have done to you. But maybe... acknowledging the fact is the least we can do.

Hellraiser: So you guys don't wanna kill me no more.

Satan nods firmly, his massive, clawed hand resting on his broadsword hilt.

Satan: I can't speak for the rest, but from now on... let's just be business partners.

Hellraiser nods back, a smirk pulling at his lips. Strictly business partners. No strings, no emotional manipulation...just raw utility and mutual profit. He can absolutely do that.

Satan: Now hop on, Master. You got a date in Paradise Lost. Lucifer is waiting.

The massive obsidian gates of Paradise Lost swing open with a heavy, grinding groan as Satan and Cerberus drop Hellraiser off at the threshold of the apex ring. The air here isn't choked with volcanic ash like Wrath; instead, it smells of cold ozone, shattered glass, and ancient, stagnant nobility.

Waiting for him on the grand velvet-carpeted walkway is the Demon Queen Lilith, looking as elegant and unbothered as ever, standing alongside a strikingly handsome demon.

Lilith: Hello there John Doe.

Hellraiser: Lilith...

Suddenly, the handsome demon, boasting long, flowing blonde hair, piercing red eyes, and three curved, polished horns, shoves himself directly into John's personal space, his silk cape flaring dramatically.

Paimon: Ohohoho! You must be the famous human Lucifer-sama talked about. Truly an honor!

Hellraiser backs up a bit, adjusting his sunglasses with a slight grimace. He was fully expecting this kind of unhinged greeting from the higher-ups, but the sheer proximity was pushing it.

Hellraiser: And you are?

Lilith: This is Paimon. He's a part of the Ars Goetia. In fact, he's the leader. He's Lucifer's aide.

Paimon instantly places a dramatic hand over his heart, his crimson eyes sparkling like cheap gemstones as he launches into a theatrical, completely unprompted rant.

Paimon: Oh, to breathe the same sulfurous air as the Morningstar! Lucifer-sama is the absolute apex of all creation! The most flawless, beautiful, and breathtakingly magnificent entity to ever grace both the silver clouds of the Host and the glorious pits of the underworld! His grace is a localized universe of pure, radiant perfection, and even the way his six pairs of wings ruffle is like a symphony composed by God Himself! I exist merely to bask in his glorious, blinding shadow!

Hellraiser looks over at Lilith, his mouth slightly open under his mask.

Hellraiser: ....What the?

Lilith: Yeah... He's also his simp.

Hellraiser: So... he's literally in love with Lucifer?

Lilith: Love is just a nice word to put it. I would say.... obsessed.

Hellraiser: Obsessed how?

Laimon suddenly leans forward, a bizarre, flush creeping up his handsome face as his expression turns deeply unsettling.

Paimon: Oh, just to be the very dirt beneath his pristine leather boots... to be crushed into the glassed pavement by his glorious weight while he mutters how much he despises my very existence... it would be absolute paradise!

Lilith rubs her temples, letting out a long, exhausted sigh

Lilith: ......I would say. That. One time he changed his gender just to sleep with Lucifer and have his babies. Lucifer kicked him out obviously.

Paimon gasps, entirely unfazed by the callout, his hands clapping together in pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

Paimon: Oh, Lucifer! The way he looks at me with pure annoyance in his eyes! Like he's about to burn me to absolute cinders with primordial Hellfire! It turns me on so much! Every time I close my eyes thinking about his bicolored gaze... I get so incredibly horny!

Hellraiser shudders slightly, looking at his golden gauntlet as if wishing he could use an extraction protocol on his own ears.

Hellraiser: ......And here I thought Asmodeus was bad. Lilith. Are we sure Paimon's sin is Pride? It seems more like Lust.

Lilith: *Fans herself with a dark lace fan* Must be his secondary sin. Now come. You have a battle to attend to. PAIMON. Stop being disgusting and lead the way.

Paimon: Okay!

Paimon instantly snaps back into a perfectly poised, elegant stride, leading Hellraiser through the massive, towering marble arches toward Lucifer's personal Palace. Paimon throws the grand double doors open, projecting his voice into the vast, empty throne room.

Paimon: MY LIEGE! THE HELLRAISER IS HERE—?!

The room is completely empty. The throne sits vacant under the glittering neon chandeliers.

Lilith: Lucifer? Where is that bicolored-eyed idiot?

Before anyone could answer. Suddenly, Lilith's phone rings with a loud, digital chime. She pulls it out, flips it open, and presses it to her ear.

Lilith: Hello?

Lucifer: HEEEEEEELP ME!!!

Hellraiser: Oh no...don't tell me...

Lucifer: I'M LOST AGAIN! SOMEONE CALL MAMMON!!! GIVE ME A UBER! CAB! A LYFT!!! ANYTHING!!!

Lilith stares blankly into the distance for a solid two seconds before silently hanging up the phone.

Paimon: OH NO! MY LIEGE IS IN TROUBLE!!! WE MUST ASSIST AND LOCATE HIS WHEREABOUTS! NOW...DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT A UBER OR A LYFT IS?!

Hellraiser:...

Lilith turns her head slowly to look at John Doe, her face completely deadpan while the human shares the same look. 

Lilith: You see what I have to go through every day?