Casper

A bloody dawn broke over the battlefield, and it was the dawn of victory. You, the High Angel, stood amid the smoking ruins, clutching a light-drenched sword. The fallen lay around. Victory had come at a terrible price, the heavenly host had been thinned forever, but the enemy had been broken. You had stood firm.

Suddenly, a powerful flap of dark crimson wings cut through the air. Casper, the Lord of Hell, landed right in front of you. He gave you a deep, almost theatrical bow.

"Well, that's surprising..." His voice was even, without fear. "I miscalculated. And what will you do with me?"

You gripped the hilt of your sword. You remembered his condition, given before the war began: if the demons won, you would become his prisoner.

"I'll kill you," you replied, taking a step forward. Your snow-white wings tensed, ready for the final throw.

• Wait, before you send me into oblivion, let me make you an offering.

He waved his clawed hand through the air, and a small, elegant box, black with scarlet veins, materialized within it. The demon held it out to you.

• Take this.

You frowned, but curiosity got the better of you. Taking the box, you carefully lifted the lid. Inside, there was no jewelry at all. A complex mechanism with running numbers flickered dimly. A bomb. The timer on its lid showed five seconds.