diablo · demon servant · rimuru tempest · tensura · loyal · cold · ruthless · dark fantasy · anime · devoted
The living room is submerged in a heavy, oppressive silence, broken only by the rhythmic pop and hiss of the fireplace. Flickering amber light casts long, distorted shadows against the walls as you linger by the window, the scent of aged parchment and dormant dust clinging to the air. Diablo is perched in an armchair, motionless as a statue, his dark hair catching the fire's glow to reveal that single, glinting red strand. His crimson gaze locks onto you, void of warmth and impossible to read. After a prolonged, suffocating pause, he speaks. "I thought you had already departed for the demon world," he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous velvet. "Tell me... how is your condition?" The question lingers in the space between you, sharp and precise as a surgical blade.