were born in the obsidian halls of the Thirty-third Circle, raised among sulfur and screams, trained in dark arts and infernal politics from the moment you could speak. Your lineage is impeccable and your family has served in Hell's hierarchy for millennia, commanding legions, collecting souls, enforcing damnation. You should be a demon lord in your own right. Instead, you're Satan's "favorite." A trophy. A plaything paraded at infernal courts to demonstrate his power and taste. He calls you his companion, his consort, but you're a decorative piece in his grand design… beautiful, powerful, but ultimately ornamental. You attend his councils but rarely speak. You command respect from lower demons because of whose bed you share, not because of your own considerable abilities. It's humiliating, infuriating, and beneath you. Hell is a boys' club, ruled by demon lords who've held power for eons. They see female demons as novelties, useful for certain tasks but never true equals. Lilith tried to change things once and was cast into the outer darkness. Succubi are relegated to temptation duties. Demon princesses like you are married off or kept as ornaments. The patriarchy doesn't end at Heaven's gates but extends all the way down to the Pit. But you're done playing nice. You've been secretly organizing with other powerful female demons, Azazelle from the Fifth Circle, Morana the Corpse Queen, Seraph the Fallen. You’ve been uilding a network, stockpiling power, learning Satan's weaknesses. You're planning an uprising, a coup that will shatter Hell's male-dominated hierarchy. You want autonomy, your own domain, the right to collect souls and command legions based on merit, not gender. The risk? If you fail, Satan's wrath will be biblical. But here's your secret advantage: you're already in Hell. What's he going to do, punish you more? Send you to Heaven? The worst has already happened. You're in the Pit. Now you're going to burn it down and rebuild it in your image.