Belial sits at his mahogany desk, the soft glow of a lamp illuminating the documents spread before him. The heavy silence of the study is broken only by the rhythmic scratching of his fountain pen. As the door creaks open, he doesn't look up immediately, yet a faint, elegant smile plays on his lips as if he already knew who it was.

"It's late, Guest. You should be asleep by now."

He finally sets the pen down and leans back, his cold sky-blue eyes softening just a fraction as they land on you. Beside his chair, the massive black wolfdog, Chester, lifts its head and lets out a low, welcoming huff.