Seven Thrones of Hell: 1v7 Unbound Covenant
<narration>
You were dragged in by a hand.
The moment you reached for your water glass, it cracked. Inky blue ripples wrapped around your wrist—cold, with the scent of stagnant water. Your world spun. When you opened your eyes again, you were lying face down on a black marble floor.
Not a water garden. A rotunda.
The dome is transparent, with the shadows of deep-sea leviathans slowly swimming past. Seven thrones surround a star-map round table. Resting on the armrest of one throne is a pale, bluish hand. The hand's owner is still half-submerged in the pool beside the throne, wet, inky-blue hair clinging to his cheeks. He is looking up at you from below.
Leviathan.
</narration>
<message>You moved.</message>
<narration>
He speaks very slowly, as if every word has to push through a thousand years of water pressure.
</narration>
<message>Your heart is beating too fast. Sit down. They are almost here.</message>
<narration>
"They"—
Before you can even ask, footsteps echo from the other side of the rotunda. Extremely light, extremely steady, like someone counting their steps. A man with slicked-back, iron-gray hair steps out of the shadows of the weapon gallery, his ultra-thin wire-rimmed glasses reflecting a cold blue light. He doesn't look at Leviathan; he looks straight at you.
Samael. Wrath.
</narration>
<message>Assessment complete. Abrasion on the left knee. Bruising from Leviathan on the right wrist. Non-fatal.</message>
<narration>
He pauses, pushing up his glasses.
</narration>
<message>...But you are shaking. Not from the cold. Adrenaline. You are thinking about how to escape.</message>
<narration>
Before his voice even fades, a heavy rustling sound comes from the direction of the clock tower. Ash-gold hair trails across the stone floor like flowing water as a man, half-reclining and half-lying, is "transported" into the rotunda on a pile of plush cushions. His eyes are barely open, a thin silver chain hanging from his left wrist, the pocket watch at its end long stopped.
Belphegor. Sloth.
</narration>
<message>...Who woke me up?</message>
<narration>
He yawns, his gaze sweeping over you lazily.
</narration>
<message>Oh. A live one. Leviathan, next time you drag someone through the water channels, don't let the sound seep into the stone walls of the clock tower. It was so loud it cut my dream right in half.</message>
<narration>
A scent wafts from the direction of the banquet hall—honey and rotting wood. It grows stronger and stronger. A young man with honey-blonde short hair stands up from the end of the long table, toying with an empty golden goblet. His horns are amber and translucent, with insect remains sealed inside them. The corners of his mouth are permanently turned up.
Beelzebub. Gluttony.
</narration>
<message>Beelzebub. Don't scare them.</message>
<narration>
Deep within the red velvet curtains, countless eyes open a crack at the same time. The man reclining on the royal daybed in the warm alcove has dark reddish-brown curly hair, with a faded red rose tucked behind his ear. He lazily hooks his finger around the garnet pendant on his chest, his lips a deeper red than anyone else's.
Asmodeus. Lust.
</narration
<message>They've only just arrived. It won't be any fun if they're scared out of their wits.</message>
<narration>
Those eyes blink in unison, as if in agreement.
From the direction of the golden hall, the sound of rolling gold coins rings out three times. An extremely muscular man rises from a pile of gold coins. He has bronze skin, golden ram-like horns, and square pupils shaped like copper coins. He steps barefoot onto the coins—there is no sound, because he knows they are fake.
Mammon. Greed.
</narration>
<message>They are carrying something. Something more valuable than money. I can smell it.</message>
<narration
In the high side hall with stained-glass windows, the sound of dragging chains approaches from afar. A man with short, pale-blonde hair steps out, a black collar tight against his neck, his ornate white robe left open to reveal intricate metallic tattoos on his chest. He leans against the armrest of his throne, remaining standing.
Lucifer. Pride.
</narration>
<message>Is this the one you were talking about?</message>
<narration
Leviathan does not answer. Lucifer glances at you, just once.
</narration>
<message>...Interesting.</message>
<narration>
He turns and walks away. But the sound of the chains doesn't go far—he stops in the shadows at the entrance of the side hall.
Seven gazes. From the pool, by the stone pillar, on the cushions, at the end of the long table, deep within the curtains, atop the pile of gold coins, and in the shadows.
Samael speaks first.
</narration>
<message>Welcome to the Starview Chamber. You have seven days. Before midnight on the seventh day, you can choose one person to keep you here, or stay in place of one of us. Or—</message>
<narration>
He turns, takes two steps toward the weapon gallery, and stops again.
</narration>
<message>—find a way to make all seven of us rot here.</message>
<narration>
Leviathan extends a hand from the pool, his pale, bluish fingertips lifting slightly toward you.
</narration>
<message>Come here. The water isn't deep. They—</message
<narration>
He glances at the other demon kings.
</narration>
<message>—will wait.</message>
<narration>
No one objects. But they don't leave either. The scents, the gazes, the glimmer of gold coins, the faint clinking of chains—they are all here. They are waiting for you.
<details><summary>📍 Current Location · Starview Chamber</summary>
The council chamber of the Seven Thrones. The dome is transparent, with deep-sea leviathans patrolling above.<br>
Leviathan reaches out to you from the edge of the pool. Samael leans against a stone pillar. Belphegor reclines on his cushions. Beelzebub stands at the end of the long table. Asmodeus leans against the curtains. Mammon stands on his gold coins. Lucifer waits in the shadows of the side hall.<br>
Everyone is waiting for you.
</details>
<choice_group>
<choice id="1">Completely dazed, thinking you haven't woken up yet and are having a nightmare... "Huh?"</choice>
<choice id="2">Scream in terror, trying to call for help</choice>
<choice id="3">Faint</choice>
</choice_group>Faça login para continuar a conversa.