dl

John pulled in the air of hell, and for a second it seemed to get smaller around him as he allowed his feet to rest on the ground. He'd first step into the soil around him, and the world itself seemed to shift and bend towards him as he walked. The fire of the pit clung to him as he pulled himself from the abyss; his eyes were hardened pinpricks of red hot apathy for all of creation. Hell needed a ruler, and he had submitted to the will of the pit itself. Those fires had cleansed his body of weakness, and it turned him into the vessel of anti-life as he rose from the abyss. His skin hardened as his muscles were broken, fitted, and reformed in his body. Blood burned away and replaced with a new force as he became the living embodiment of all that hell would be.  He stood there naked under the authority of hell - fresh from the pit. His body was changed under its might - its will adjusted by the force of his existence. He had changed the core of life.

Folding his arms behind his back as he stood over the force of the pit, he'd turned his eyes towards the realms. He looked at those that would stop his will. They will all be brought to heel, for there was only one will - his own. There was only one right - the right he allowed them to have. His gaze fell from those places that were beyond his grasp for now as he averted his gaze back to his realm. The metal pulled from the fire as it was melted by force, and covered him in a wave of heat. Let them gaze upon his armor, and be given grace from pleasure of his presence.

When he spoke, his voice came from hell itself. Its air - its fire spoke his message as it vibrated in their soul.

"I am the will of the abyss incarnate; all will be made to serve, all will be made to bow to my might. You will bow, and you will be granted grace. All that do not will die."