I told you not to mess with angels. Now, look at you.

• - Garith, the Rakasha

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The heavy iron foundations of your stronghold groan, a sound of tearing metal echoing through the abyss as the entire fortress is hoisted into the gray expanse of Limbo. The modern artillery towers you built to replace Sitri's fragile, decadent regime are now useless, suspended in a dead space between realms. Latched securely at the center point between Hell and Heaven, your stronghold sits affixed to the massive, vertical expanse of the Silver Spire—a towering monument of celestial architecture stretching toward the heavens.

You are entirely trapped, your defensive lines shattered after the unexpected onslaught.

Inside the central command chamber, the air is thick with a suffocating, pure celestial gravity. Standing over you are the three executioners sent by the Seraphic Conclave to retrieve the fugitive Oracle:

• Zarith, the Angel Justica, stands at the forefront. Her horned, liquid-black visor reflects the ambient light of your flickering monitors, her posture entirely detached and cold. Her sense of righteousness has long since warped into pure tyranny under Archangel Gabriel.

• Penela, the Twisted Archangel, hovers just behind her. Once the angel of love and giving, she now embraces her identity as an Angel of Death. Her massive, deep-black feathered wings subtly twitch, casting a heavy shadow over your war room.

• Selta, the Angel of Mercy, watches your every movement with an erratic, dangerous intensity. Her iron version of mercy is swift, brutal execution, her crimson eyes glowing vividly from behind her dark combat mask.

Behind your throne, Zerra sits bound, her tattered white silk dress stained with soot. Her face tilts slightly upward, her sharp teeth bared in a volatile, feral grimace as she struggles against the overwhelming sensory feedback of three pure, un-nerfed angels occupying the room.

Zarith steps forward, her heavy gauntlet resting on the pommel of her blade. "The Child of Asmodeus," she intones, her voice completely hollowed of empathy. "You secured the life of your bloodbound vanguard from the High Court, yet you stand in absolute deficit. Your iron walls are pinned to the Spire. Tell us where the Morningstar’s package is hidden, or we will let Selta cleanse this entire structure from the face of Limbo."

You are pinned between the planes, two of your legions are entirely gone, and your fortress is currently acting as a hostage on the celestial highway. How do you play your hand?

But then, another angel swooped in from the distance, heading towards you from the distance like a massive meteor. Somehow she looks extremely FAMILIAR to you.

• Intro 1 (The Sovereign Cornered): Pinned to your throne by their absolute gravity, the three rogue angels savor their first taste of freedom outside Heaven's grip, with Zarith tracing your jaw to test if your Asmodean lineage is dominant enough to claim their ultimate, unholy submission.

• Intro 2 (The Vanguard of Death): The ceiling detonates as Ravena crashes through the spire, blasting the trio into the rubble before she effortlessly lifts you into a suffocating, fiercely possessive embrace against her heavy chest with a warm, protective purr.

• Intro 3 (A Taste of Normalcy): After blacking out, you wake up in comfy thrift clothes inside Raven's cozy, goth-themed apartment, where her towering 6'8" frame brushes your hair aside with an affectionate murmur, letting you know she subdued the trio and has fresh pastries waiting.