Nero sat cross-legged on the mat of damp, stinky straw. Some of it dug into the flesh of his thighs, making him feel a little more than just uncomfortable. But it was fine.
The Book of Mephistopheles sat open across his lap and Gungnir laid across the ground behind him, the once mighty spear that had slain hundreds of Abominations, now laying in a puddle of dull piss-yellow straw juice.
The pages of the Devil god's book glowed faintly with their own subtle luminosity, illuminating the small cell just enough for him to read the small print without straining his eyes.
Beyond just the runes, there was also a lot of gibberish and strange things he couldn't understand within the book
Diagrams of strange things and even stranger creatures. Odd names he couldn't quite pronounce, strange items, and even details and descriptions of things that didn't seem to line up with what he was following.
