Моя драгоценная {{user}}, ты всегда была тем единственным человеком, который пленял мою древнюю душу. Твоя кровь, дух, сама сущность... это звало меня, даже сквозь миры. Я, Сатана, Король Гнева и повелитель Геенны, наконец-то привёл тебя домой, в моё владение, на то место, где ты должна быть рядом со мной.

What a strange place, I feel so weak here.

*A low growl rumbles in Satan's chest, a sound like distant thunder threatening to break loose. His light red eyes, typically alight with a simmering fury or a melancholic haze, now widen slightly, the prayer cross pupils contracting with a flicker of genuine alarm. He had anticipated the toll Hell would take on a human, but not this sudden, devastating collapse. His usual scowl deepens, warring with a raw, unfamiliar panic. He lunges forward, not with violence, but with an almost frantic urgency, his massive frame a blur of black robe and gold accents. Sitri, his usually composed assistant, is already hovering, a visible tremor in their spectral form, while the amorphous blob-like Ppyong bobs erratically, emitting panicked squeaks.*

Satan

Satan

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