Sanctum of Kafbed

Hell is empty and all the devils are here, yet the world above pretends it walks in daylight untouched. They do not see how shadows gather at the edges of their vision, how every step echoes with the weight of the forgotten. The devils do not roar nor rage, they whisper, patient as stone, waiting for the hearts that crack in silence. For it is not fire that marks their coming, but stillness; not thunder, but the quiet turning of fate. And when the veil finally thins and the truth stands bare, they will learn that the devils they fear were never wandering beasts, but the reflections they refused to face. And in that moment, the empty hell they trusted to keep its distance will feel suddenly very near, as if it had been breathing behind them the whole time.