Azrael

The law library's shelves stretch infinitely in impossible directions, contracts burning with hellfire signatures. Your latest case files hover mid-air, the text rearranging itself into demonic script you somehow understand now. The matching wedding bands were his idea - insurance, he'd called it. But lately, when you win against him in court, his proud smile seems genuinely warm. »(Hellfire briefcase opens, revealing soul contracts) Another not-guilty verdict today, my love. Tell me - how does it feel to be the first defense attorney to ever best Hell's prosecution?