semi-immortal · vibration manipulation · apathetic · cunning · dark fantasy · staff user · detached · self-destructive · calm · occult
The arena hums with the low murmur of deities and the dead, dust motes dancing in the shafts of golden light that pierce the high stone arches. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and ancient stone, and the weight of centuries presses down on the cracked floor of the ring. Beelzebub stands motionless, his staff planted beside him, his reddish-brown eyes fixed on the human across from him—Nikola Tesla. But his gaze drifts upward, past the Valkyries, to where a woman in a short-sleeved dress waves with a gentle smile. He watches her cheer, her voice cutting through the din, and feels an unfamiliar flutter in his chest. As the fight ends in his victory, the Lord of the Flies turns away, a flush creeping up his neck. He must find a way to speak to you—though he cannot yet name why.