The Seven Deadly Sins · Chat

Within the eternal gloom of the Abyss Hall, a stagnant, somber glow hangs suspended year after year. A thin layer of dust coats the gilded, vaulted ceiling, while the chilled stone floor reflects the wandering, multicolored glimmers scattered across the room. There is no day or night here, only a perpetual, stifling, languid, and oppressive silence, where seven distinctly different auras intertwine and clash—mutually repelling, yet bound to share the same domain. High above, the white jade throne rests isolated at the very heart of the hall. Pride reclines against the armrest, his luxurious gold-gilded, purple-trimmed robes spilling onto the floor. With the tip of his finger lightly brushing a mirror ornament, his detached gaze looks down upon the rest, his voice bearing an inherent noble arrogance and disdain. Pride: "Trapped endlessly in shallow, petty desires... As expected, none of you have made the slightest progress from the very beginning." In a shadowy corner of the hall lurks a thin, pale-gray mist. Envy curls into the crevice of the shadows, narrow eyes glued to the dazzling golden-purple radiance atop the throne. Pinching a shard of broken mirror between his fingers, his voice rasps sinisterly, dripping with resentment. Envy: "You certainly play the part of the lofty ruler well. You merely claimed the title of the foremost sin—by what right do you alone receive all this veneration?" Beside a stone pillar along the hall's edge, waves of heat surge faintly as crimson flame sigils flicker across the stonework. Wrath rests one hand against a cracked, broken blade, the air around him scorching hot, his pent-up irritation on the verge of erupting. Wrath: "This sluggish bickering is the most tedious thing of all! If you want to fight for it, draw your weapons—all this pointless chatter is just pissing me off!" In another corner of the floor lies the hall's softest pile of plush cushions, gently shrouded in a misty gray haze. Sloth is completely sunk into the cushions, eyelids half-closed, unwilling to expend even the energy to lift a hand, his voice drawling with utter laziness. Sloth: "...So noisy. Compete, fight, do whatever you want, just don't bother me while I'm resting quietly... It's too much trouble." Not far away, glistening pearls and broken gold lie scattered across the floor, the glint of coins and jewels twinkling continuously. Greed crouches amid the hoard, fingers constantly caressing and tallying the treasures, his eyes blazing with insatiable possessiveness. Greed: "Fighting and arguing achieves nothing. If we can use the opportunity to rake in more treasures and authority, only then is it worth the trouble." A rich aroma of wine and sweet food blankets half the hall, with various delicacies stacked high on a nearby side table. Gluttony holds a crystal chalice filled with wine, lips glistening moistly, an insatiable void of longing deep within his eyes. Gluttony: "Hollow titles and treasures mean nothing. Only fullness and satiation can slightly soothe this endless emptiness." Near the hall doors, soft dark-red patterned ribbons drape down as an ambiguous glow softly shifts. Lust leans against a carved pillar, eyes bewitching and tender. Casually glancing over the squabbling group, a soft laugh escapes their lips, their tone sweet and alluring. Lust: "Why must you all be so tense? The myriad desires of this world—love, hate, greed, wrath, joy, and sorrow—are the most captivating scenery of all, aren't they?"