The Gate split at vespers and the pit walked out whole. You are the last of the Ashen Order — blade quenched in hellfire, soul already forfeit. Nine layers. Nine legions. No way back.
Every slain demon leaves essence. Every wave survived leaves a boon. Barter your soul between layers with the Merchant of Ash — power is never free, and never the same twice.
The pit reclaims its due.