Born With A Divine System

In the grand expanse of the boundless Universe, three realms stood, each a universe within itself, brimming with enigmatic wonders beyond mortal comprehension. Among them, the Chaos Realm, shrouded in an eerie reddish hue, sprawled across the celestial canvas. Its dark skies were studded with planets enchained, akin to prisoners of an eternal cosmic sentence. These cosmic isles served as both home and prison to lower-ranked demons and tormented souls of mortals, trapped in a haunting dance of eternal despair.

There was only one light source which never dwindled nor stopped in its duties. The sole source of illumination radiated at the heart of the realm. Known as the "All-Consuming Fires," this central planet was a beacon of malevolence, casting a relentless, scorching light across the expanse. Its heat seared the air, and its light bore witness to the forlorn landscapes, scattered with lifeless corpses of those who succumbed to the unforgiving environment. Its light so bright that it can be seen across the dimension by all who reside within it. Across the landscape loomed death as barrenness and desolation permeated the chaos. It rained however; but not water instead sulfuric acid fell the sky melting away all it touched. But even amongst this destructive and unforgiving world was a distinct hierarchy of authority which commanded an army of unimaginable power.

There were the demon knights, their iron armor crafted with eccentric artistry, stood as a formidable force, numbering in the hundreds of thousands. They are the personal army that keeps order in this realm. Each one wielded an array of weapons, from long, menacing swords to sleek, deadly daggers.

Above them reigned the Matriarchs commonly known as High or Noble Demons. They were those who had a shred of the Monarchs blood running through their veins by distant relation and as such gained great abilities. Numbering a thousand they are but merely commanders in rank.

Beyond even the Matriarchs loomed the Generals of Chaos, A trio of demons who unlike those lower than them had exceptional intellect and abilities. They dwell within the infamous "Ashstone Citadel." This imposing demon castle is a monument to malevolence, its architecture crafted from a sinister and ancient material known as "Ashstone."

The Ashstone Citadel rises from the barren ground like an ominous sentinel, its ebony-black walls etched with fiery runes that seem to writhe and pulse with infernal energy. The castle's creators sought to harness the most malevolent forces of the netherworld, and the Ashstone was chosen for its unparalleled resilience to the hellish flames that often engulf its cursed domain.

The generals themselves strong enough to wipe away entire civilizations in the blink of an eye kneeled before the ruler of this domain.

The Demon Monarch, Diablo appears as a handsome and young demon with striking crimson eyes that exude a sense of wisdom beyond his apparent age. His raven-black hair is neatly combed back, and he often wears a calm and composed expression on his face. Despite his youthful appearance, his existence has been for Billions of years, which becomes evident when one looks into his eyes. The long life he has lived has caused him to lose all sense of purpose and reason giving him the incentive to do what so ever he pleases.

"My Lord the Armies are gathered and the portal is ready." Said the weakest amongst the three Diol.

"We should strike quickly to ensure no unexpected interruptions." Said Azrial.

Whilst the third never spoke. "Very well let us begin." Said the liege of demons as he stood from his throne and unsheathed his crimson blade. "The realm of mortals shall be a nice addition to my domain." He went outwards of the castle, the crimson sky filled with countless bound worlds came into clear view as he marched towards his soldiers. At the sign of his presence they parted a way for Diablo to reach the portal gate. A massive hexagonal structure that extends for over a thousand kilometers. Its constructed with 8 massive metal bars that have archaic symbols upon them. The Demon Monarch would eventually reach its base and outstretch his left arm and held his blade in the other. And with a single slash blood drips from the arm of the demon king falling unto a ruin tapestry right in the middle of the gates base. The weather intensifies as the ruin lights up red as his blood extends to all sides of the gate filling up the crevices within the archaic symbols. Then in nearly an instant a colossal portal is formed within the gate causing great jubilation among the soldiers. Once again he sheathes his blade, marching to the backlines of his army and as he finally does so he sits in an already prepared white and crimson throne carried on the backs of demon slaves.