Asmodeus’ strength is on another level. Lilith and Aosoth had just been using what power Abaddon allowed them to. Asmodeus has full control of the Beach. Full control of his own potential. Who is he? What is he? The demon’s horrendous mass gradually rounds a skyscraper, colossal chunks of worm-forged flesh dropping off and reforming across his body. He seems to be struggling to hold himself together. His twisted face moans in anger and what Satan can only assume is pain. With titanic effort, Asmodeus lifts a dripping arm and grab a building to pull himself forward. Satan is frozen. What is he supposed to do against this? Where can he run to? Where can he hide? What place could possibly…

Satan gets an idea. He runs along the beach until buildings block Asmodeus’ line of sight, then he darts onto a street and looks for a vehicle. Satan had practiced driving over the past year. He hopes that it’ll finally come in handy. He spots a stylish red convertible. Perfect. The ground shakes as Asmodeus topples a building in his manic search for Satan. Dust fills the sky. Satan punches the dashboard hard enough to make the car start and begins to drive. The pavement cracks beneath him and the skyscrapers to either side bend and twist unnaturally. The sky shifts hue to a deep red. Winchward Beach is changing; corrupting. The colourful silhouette men jump out of pedestrian traffic lights and give chase. The road suddenly lurches upwards, causing Satan’s car to gain air. He lands with a jolt, but the car doesn’t give up. A few blocks ahead, to Satan’s horror, Asmodeus rounds a building and rumbles some threat at him. Satan takes a sharp turn left and keeps driving in what he thinks is the general direction of his destination. Standing in the middle of the road is an insect-man on the back of a giant ape.

‘REMEMBER ME?’ shouts Faster.

Satan runs them both over and continues his desperate ride to safety. More bizarre dangers and distractions pop up as he drives. Giant frogs, skeletal dinosaurs, ravenous dog creatures, swarms of locusts, and tribes of cosplayers. The towers shake and the roads spiral. Clouds rush past above and many suns litter the sky. Eventually, Satan gets out of the city and into the suburbs. The houses are melting like chocolate in the sun. Skeletons mow dead grass and fetch rotten newspapers. One shakes its fist angrily at Satan as he speeds past. Satan checks his mirror. Asmodeus is exiting the city just behind him. The suburbs come to an inexplicable dead stop and Satan is now on a highway, tall grass to either side. Apparently the Beach could no longer be bothered to show him houses. That doesn’t matter. Asmodeus storms through the suburbs behind. For a blob of worms, he certainly can move quickly. Satan growls in frustration. Not much longer. Over the yellowed grass, he spots it; the forest. Satan jumps out of his car, rolling into the grass. He hears it swerve off the road somewhere ahead. Not his problem. He sprints towards the forest, wading through the grass like a chest-high lake. A shadow dawns across him. Satan looks up. A worm falls on his forehead. Above him, Asmodeus’ colossal arm grows across the sky like a storm cloud. Satan continues to sprint in a straight line because that always works out in movies. The shadow around him darkens as Asmodeus lowers his hand to swat Satan like a horned fly. Satan won’t make it. In a final fit of desperation, he summons his great, bladed weapon; his foothold in reality, and holds it straight above him as he runs. It slices through Asmodeus’ amorphous palm, showering Satan in black ichor and writhing worms, but keeping him alive all the same. Satan can’t afford to go back to the beach, not while he’s so close. He stampedes into the forest, tossing his stained blade beside and leaving Asmodeus’ bleeding hand in the grass. In stark contrast to the dry and dull field it borders, the forest is tropical and breathing. Insects buzz, mud fills Satan’s boots and ancient rainwater drips from leaves. It’s like entering another world. Satan stumbles through the twisting roots and hanging vines of the jungle, searching for his salvation. He can hear Asmodeus randomly flattening sections of nearby forest. Disconcerting at best. Distracted by the distant crushing of trees, Satan stubs his toe once again on the concrete bunker entrance. The relief dulls the pain. He’s found it. How’s a hundred-metre tall worm demon supposed to fit into an underground weapons bunker? Satan is just about ready to pat himself on the back for such a genius idea. He hopes the locusts have given up on the whole guarding gig, though. Satan heaves the manhole cover off and is about to climb into the ladder shaft when he realises Asmodeus’ pounding of the jungle has gone silent.

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‘Going somewhere?’ says Asmodeus.

Satan rushes for the ladder. Asmodeus grabs onto his neck, stopping him in his tracks. The demon has returned to his headless child form.

‘You know what he tells me?’ Asmodeus continues, his childish voice betraying the menace in his tone. ‘He claws his way into the deepest corners of my head and he tells me to let you live. He tells me it’s all in motion, and that we just have to sit back and relax.’

Asmodeus throws Satan to the ground and plants a foot on his chest. It’s like being stepped on by a hellbeast.

‘But why should I let you live in peace? With what you’ve done to the Satan legacy, you deserve far worse than anything this place can give you.’

Asmodeus picks Satan up by one of his horns and throws him into the ladder shaft.

‘You’re hers now!’ the dullahan boys calls after him.

Satan breaks more than a few bones when he lands at the bottom. The water is gone, and so is the darkness. A steady, warm light radiates from further down the passage. Satan has a feeling he knows who Asmodeus was referring to, but it doesn’t make enough sense for him to accept it as a certainty. After letting his body heal for a few minutes, Satan begins to cautiously make his way through the concrete tunnels beneath the jungle. No locusts, it seems. Satan still cannot help but be on guard. He runs into a few dead-ends, but eventually manages to find a large, steel vault door. Satan tries turning the circular handle. Nope. Not gonna happen. Against his better judgement, Satan knocks; two quick knuckle raps. The door swings open with a creak. On the other side is a chamber fit to a hold a mountain. Tens of thousands of weapons, vehicles, ballistics and more line every wall, every ridiculously tall shelf, and every concrete bench. In the centre, sitting on a tank covered in red markings, is Lilith and Beezlebub. They’re looking quite healthy.

‘How’ve you been, mate?’ asks Beezlebub.

‘I’ve been better,’ Satan replies.