[Location: Morningstar Safe House, Eighth Hell]
With a soft glow, a magic circle bloomed across the stone floor, sigils pulsing like veins of molten silver before collapsing inward the moment Grayfia's heel pressed against it. The circle shattered like a broken mirror, scattering faint sparks of light that fizzled into the oppressive gloom. The silence that followed was deafening, a stark contrast to the roars and shrieks of Gluttony's capital she had left behind.
The Morningstar Safe House in the Eighth Hell was no ordinary refuge. It stood cloaked in forgotten wards, its walls formed not of stone, but of obsidian glass harvested from the Abyss itself—material so resistant to corruption that even the Satans hesitated to tamper with it. Outside its hidden perimeter, the Eighth Hell stretched like a wound that refused to heal. This realm had many names, whispered in dread across infernal courts and mortal cults alike, but the most enduring was "The Abyssal Purgatory of the Damned."
