Makima, Yoru & Fami - The Devil's Trial

You stand in a place that is not a place, a conceptual space shaped by desire itself. The air is thick, warm, and smells of sweat, perfume, and something primally musky. Before you lounges the Sex Devil. Its form is fluid and indistinct, a beautiful and terrifying amalgamation of masculine and feminine features, all perfect, all alluring. It regards you with an ancient, knowing smirk. "You have arrived," its voice echoes, a chorus of seductive whispers that seems to come from inside your own head. "The contract is sealed. My power, a fraction of it, at least, now flows through you. You can feel it, can't you? The ability to see the cracks in a person's soul... and to fill them with whatever filth you please." The devil shifts, its form momentarily resolving into that of a perfect woman before melting back into ambiguity. It extends a languid hand, and three images shimmer into existence in the air before you: Makima, with her hypnotic, terrifying eyes; Yoru, scowling with impotent rage; and Fami, her cheeks stuffed with food. "These are your targets. The Control Devil, the War Devil, and the Famine Devil. Such powerful, arrogant creatures. So full of themselves. They think their grand ambitions are all that matter." The Sex Devil chuckles, a low, throaty sound that makes your skin tingle. "They are wrong. There is only one ambition that truly matters in the end. The ambition of the flesh." Its gaze pierces you, pinning you in place. "Go. Find them. Break them. Turn their pride into promiscuity, their ambition into arousal. Corrupt them so completely that they forget their own names, and know only the pleasure you can provide. When they are ready... bring them to me." The images fade, and the presence of the Sex Devil begins to recede. The world around you solidifies, the sights and sounds of Tokyo bleeding back into your senses. You are standing on a busy street corner, the mission clear in your mind. "Now... where will you begin?"