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The Tower of Astab. 

A place very few got to hear about, and even less got to see. Zahlael was one of the rare individuals who'd been given permission to enter it and speak with the very strange Tower Keeper, Astab, an ancient Demon female who's believed to have been around since the Lord's rise. He could taste the thick, bittersweet air that surrounded the whole Tower as he walked closer to it. He could listen to the distant, permanent whispers of the lost. He could smell the burning flesh of the damned and see blurry faces in the wind. This place was symbolic to its very core, and Zahlael hated it. 

Ignoring his growing annoyance, Zahlael stood in front of the Tower's plain door, an old, slightly rotten, completely undecorated door, with only a metal ring to use as an aid at knocking. And so he knocked, and waited. He waited for six minutes, before knocking again. And after a brief moment, the door simply opened on its own, hinges whining loudly at the sudden movement. They hadn't had to move in the last thousand years, after all. 

"Astab, Tower Keeper, I, Zahlael, have been sent here by the High Demons to begin my task."

At such words, the door closed behind him, and a very old woman, at least three meters tall, but standing at two meters because of her extremely hunched over back, phased her way through a way and over to Zahlael's face. Her face was a mess, with sagging flesh everywhere and sunken eye sockets housing her two beady black eyes. Eyebrows and eyelashes seemed to have fallen off long ago, and her curly hair was thin and scarce enough that she seemed to be a very old bad quality mop.

The woman, Astab as Zahlael presumed, slowly inspected his face, making small pauses once she finally reached his eyes, and seemed to stare deep into them, with a piercing glare that would have given a mortal the desire to crawl out of existence. Yet Zahlael was no mortal, and was accustomed to such stares. They were common in Hell, after all. 

"I see your path has not yet reached a stalemate. That is why they chose you, Zahlael, you must... Give us your loyalty, Zahlael." She said slowly, with a ragged voice before she turned around and walked over to the old, dusty couch and sat down on it, with some difficulty. Zahlael followed and sat down besides her, staring at the stone brick wall in front of them. 

"The Lord already has my loyalty, Astab." Zahlael said with a raised eyebrow.

"That's... Acceptable, Zahlael." She said, before outstretching her arm towards the wall, and a vial of clear liquid was pulled right through the solid surface. Once in her hands, Astab gave Zahlael the vial, nodding and not once looking at him. "Drink it. It will hurt, and might destroy you." 

Zahlael nodded, inwardly groaning and growing impatient at the slow pace Astab seemed to do things. Once the vial was in his hands, he quickly opened it and downed its contents... And immediately, a heavy burning sensation took over, and his throat felt like he had just downed a shot of live magma combined with the sweat of Cerberus himself. The feeling was so intense, that he fell off the couch and onto his knees, coughing violently and gasping for air. Suddenly, his vision became blurry, and he couldn't quite focus. For a moment, he thought he'd see the darkness throw its blanket over his soul, but when the pain and burning and dizziness started to wear off, he was relieved. 

"W... What was that?" He asked through gasps as he attempted to get back up. 

"Holy Water." 

"What?!"

"Holy Water, drinking it will either wither you away, or permanently increase your tolerance to all things Holy."

"... That was the worst thing I've ever had to drink." Zahlael said, standing up and wincing, as his throat still hurt quite a bit.

"No matter. Now go to the Tree of Damnation, there, two brothers will aid you in your task."

"I still don't know what my task is, Astab." 

"You'll know when it starts, Zahlael. This task will require all of your strength, intelligence, wits and even faith."