[Location: Somewhere in Hell]
Greed broke, sobbing openly, hands clawing the dirt. "M-My Lord—thank you! Thank you—!"
The shadow waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting a fly. "Enough. You'll need your tongue for what comes next."
The ember pulsed once — as if the unseen heart of Hell itself had just skipped a beat.
The shadow's hand lingered midair, fingers curling lazily in the stillness. The movement was almost graceful, almost gentle, but every Satan present felt the weight of an unspoken command crawl into their bones.
"Now," the shadow murmured, "What did they say about the 'merge'?"
"About t-that..." Pride wanted to stand, but a heavy pressure pushed his shoulder downward, almost snapping his spine in half. Pride's knees hit the scorched ground with a dull crack. The pressure wasn't physical—it was conceptual, like a verdict being pronounced by the abyss itself.
The shadow didn't look directly at him. "Speak."
