The paling faces of the guards were a delight. It was good to see that my name still held weight in here, even after my death. But then, death always was of noticeably lesser importance in Hell. I noticed that some didn't believe my claim, but they couldn't deny that I looked like someone strong.
With a gesture, the lieutenant ordered one of his soldiers to report to the Master of Sin. Curious, I sent a mental projection after him.
"Of course, dear guest… please, follow me." The lieutenant bowed. "The Master of Sin won't refuse an audience with you."
Or, more like, the lieutenant had a feeling that if he did, I would take one either way, and he had orders to avoid excessive violence. I hummed. "Go on, then."
