After all, Hell has no clock...'

The flames licked at his heels as he sat, smouldering on his throne. The one who thrives on pain, suffering, and anguish; the one who embodies ultimate evil, sits in contemplation. Demons slither by, shadows snicker with impure intents as the smoke chokes the throats of those spirits doomed in torment. The figure on the throne has no eyes, yet he sees all, and even his minions notice something amiss- there is no sinister snicker on their master's face.

Delusion steps up to the throne, the lowly figure shape-shifting in its smoke as it waits. He looks down at the shifting smoke, his keen eyes seeing past the image, into the esscense of Delusion himself. Nodding ascent to a silent query, Delusion evaporates off into the World, plauging his new victim as the screams shake the melting walls of Hell.