It's no longer strange to her, to stand in a world like this one. Not only for the trials she'd faced upon first bargaining her soul away, either. No, she keeps remembering a time the underworld is all she'd known.

A time where the great goddesses of death and fury had played their vengeance games, the Motherless paling in comparison to the judgment they unleashed. Long before the angels fell, she was wicked.

Emilia nods in response to his certainty, her eyes lifting to meet his. She swallows past the fear that'd taken hold, aware of how vulnerable it leaves her. Every lesson he gave her is one she learned well.

Valeas, she tells herself.

With her hand in his, and teeth gritted, she plunges deeper into Hell still.