[center][b]The Pleiades Casino & Resort: Courtyard - Aeternus[/b][/center] An eye full of crust creaked open in the courtyard of Thalgrim’s Gambling Quarters. A mixture of soot and atrophied concrete fell from the corners as its iris ping-ponged, scanning the area. A peculiar visitor drew its attention. Watching the somber spirit, he engaged in a one-sided conversation with an obstreperous man, whose boisterous personality overshadowed their dismal surroundings once polluted by the flashing lights of the strip. Before they got anywhere, screaming from the distance was a girl on a motorcycle far too big for her. [i]“Who are you all?”[/i] The sewage-bombed man of the fountain approached her from the rear, dripping out the fountain towards her. With who-knows-what wedged into the wrinkles in his anguished expression, he brought his scum-streaked face uncomfortably close to Selena. If she didn't see him, she certainly smelled him. With a voice cracking through torment, he pleaded [i]“He–lp…me.”[/i] [center][b]The Pleiades Casino & Resort: The Miskatonic Lounge - Floor Unknown[/b][/center] Illuminated by a silver-flame fireplace, sipping coffee as dark as the abyss, the suave and debonair Dupin sat cross-legged, finding solace in the oddly soothing cadence of the chaotic symphony ringing through the city. No shadows danced off him, nor did his reflection grace the lone mirror in the room. Indulging in a rare moment of respite, the Aeternus hotel manager sat down his porcelain cup on a levitating, embossed silver saucer. Its black steam clung to his inhaling nostrils waving like tendrils, obscuring his momentarily pupilless eyes. A peculiar and probably troublesome, grim figure crossed his thoughts, entering the courtyard. Would Dupin act? Not likely. While Thornaldo, the well-spoken carnivorous plant safeguarded the surface level of the Pleiades, a mere human (or so he would have you believe) reigned over the massive hellish underground. Not many knew what resided beneath the manager's facade of civility and charm, but for now, this middle-aged hint-of-gray visage was the default that greeted guests. Standing over him, a grandiose oil-based portrait, framing the twisted depiction of a nightmarish abomination defying mortal comprehension. Staring intensely, Dupin challenged it, inviting a clawing madness to the edges of his psyche. Instead of succumbing to the mire of confusion, he felt the opposite. A surge of clarity washed over him as the subject itself communicated directly, peppering bits of ancient power and knowledge onto already unfathomable insight. His blackened heart reveled in the experience too much. It was uncanny. Realizing he was lost in thought, the hotel manager averted his gaze from the painting, finally blinking. Enough time had passed. He changed his mind, which he had a nasty habit of doing. It was time once again to stalk the corridors of the hotel. Through cunning, ruthless measures, Dupin used every tool and elaborate trap at his disposal—both mundane and supernatural—to instill a satisfactory means of order. His tolerance for chaos operated at a much higher threshold than at the resort's surface-level security. However, unlike Thornaldo, when provoked, Dupin’s heavy-handedness caused even devils to cower. [i]“Can you take me to the owner?”[/i] Listening in, his brow arched upwards. That was an easy answer but also very complex had they knowledge of the casino’s backer. An antique rotary phone with miniature skulls on opposing sides of the gold handset floated toward his rhythmically twirling dark fingers. Extending his silver-ringed index, starting with the area code (666), he dialed the counter-clockwise retracing rotary wheel. [center][b]The Pleiades Casino & Resort: The Asmodeus Athenaeum - 57th floor - Allure[/b][/center] *RING RING* On the other end was Vileiro. [i]“I, Nocturnelle Dupin, Maestro of the Nightwhisper have quite the development to share."[/i] You could almost feel the twirling of his mustache over the speaker. [i]“On top of your slew of problems, a patron of hell would like to speak to you. I don't suppose he wants to casually chat considering he is the source of the power outage. Oh—and I'm sure you already know about…”[/i] [i]“Yeah, yeah, Nocturnelle. I'm already addressing it. I’m sure you’re already planning your usual high-jinks as we speak...”[/i] A slight smirk formed on Dupin’s face. Deep within the Asmodeus Athenaeum, standing before an elegant mirror matching even his eight-foot frame, Vileiro placed his purple-nailed hand slowly against his reflection. Feeling a subtle frost, the ice devil carved his unique sigil birthed to him by hell. Snuffed out of the room was all warmth, filling the space with sinister chills coiling around every corner bearing the coldness of Zamhareer. Vileiro paused and gulped. A voice that seemed to reverberate from the very bowels of the planet shook the magically enclosed room temporarily sealed off from Earth. [i][b][color=9e0b0f]“Speak, consigliere.”[/color][/b][/i] [center][b]The Pleiades Casino & Resort: Courtyard - Aeternus[/b][/center] The travertine stone flooring of the courtyard in which the unique lot of individuals stood stationary grew soft, undulating with an eerie, liquid-like motion of a waterbed. At the light tap of Dupin’s right heel from the safety of his abode, a domineering force stamped the grounds. Like a loose pool cover snatching and submerging its naive prey, the environment indiscriminately enveloped them all with an insatiable force. They found themselves adrift in a realm of [url=https://youtu.be/1J_q9lZ2rQ8?si=gWZPvbhS0zGaH2B1&t=9]nightmares[/url], blared by a cacophony of anguished screams and tormented wails, endlessly falling, accompanied by inconceivable visions contorting into grotesque shapes mirroring the deepest recesses of their subconscious. Some were confronted by grisly abominations resembling twisted caricatures of their loved ones. Others witnessed their most egregious examples of failure and regret on repeat with cosmic entities in audience. Each visitor's journey was personalized. In Selena’s case, not only did she get a slice of the domain’s usual brand of terror, but once again, she was confronted by the demonic rendition of herself she fended off earlier. This time, however, it was like looking in a mirror. She felt like she wore her remains again. The nightmarish dopple moved as she did, and looking into her eyes, the devil displayed pitifully intense signs of vulnerability, even fear. Since wearing the hollowed-out corpse to avoid succumbing to Ceven’s living inferno, Selena probably felt something tainting her soul, lingering like the faint odor of body sweat. To her, it was probably just the stench of the slain demons left in her wake, but the signs were there. She was just the last to smell it. Being in this realm only exacerbated the funk, and it reeked of hell. Part of the gem’s distorted future spirit-cooked into her through the heat of the sanguine flame. Selena felt her devilish copy’s foreboding dread followed by the heavenly condemnation of what appeared the very same angel she confided with. Every painful twitch of her wings, every nervous breath, every single pulse of her accelerating heartbeat. Selena felt it all. That shared grip of encumbering guilt and shame leading to damnation had a violent clutch on her heart until it suddenly… didn't. [center][b]The Pleiades Casino & Resort: Thalgrim’s Gambling Quarters - Aeternus[/b][/center] Like the rest of the group, Selena was deposited to some part of the casino. Probably disoriented and bewildered by the abrupt displacement from her reality and the horrors she witnessed just seconds ago. She had dozens of reasons to believe what happened was and wasn't real. The young demon hunter found herself beside the shell-shocked, muck-ridden fountain man of earlier in a puddle foaming at the mouth. Towering over her, the roulette wheel was mid-spin, just starting to slow down as eager faces hung, eyes glued in nervous anticipation. Too wrapped in the game, they didn't even acknowledge them. The loud, animated soulbound revenant found himself suddenly a close spectator to a blackjack game in which an impossibly ongoing winning streak attracted a crowd hovering over a gambler who frankly looked over it. As for Valkyr… The patron of hell stood before the hotel manager clad in a tailored plaid three-piece suit of the finest charcoal wool hugging his lean body. The silver-flamed flickers of the fireplace in Miskatonic Lounge cast light to both individual's silhouettes, as well as busts of various hell beasts and antiques decorating the room. Simultaneously, Dupin’s imperious leer felt up on his guest’s spirit. The Maestro of the Nightwhisper stared directly into the void in which Valkyr's face would have been with morbid curiosity, purging deeper. [i]"Ah, it seems you've called upon the conductor of this sinister opera, have you not? He’s a tad bit busy."[/i]