Bjorn beckoned us out of the small sleeping chamber. He kept his gun at his side as we followed him down the hallway.

“How are you walking so quietly?” I whispered frustratedly.

“Illusion magic,” muttered Bjorn, sounding confused. “All imps can do it.”

“Wait, what?” I said.

“Yeah, that’s why your archdemon masters haven’t found us yet,” said Bjorn. “We’ve got an army of imps casting a shit-ton of glamors over us. It’s the only magical thing imps can do, and it’s pretty useful.” I recalled Joseph mentioning that imps could create illusions.

“Wait…” I said. “An army of imps?”

“This illusion spell, as powerful as it is, is flimsy compared to the power of an archdemon. If Satan notices even one little thing amiss, we will be in the dungeons before we can think, so shut the hell up before we strain this illusion spell to its limits,” said Bjorn and shut up I did. Even though he’d said more words than I had…

A group of demons were waiting for us near a dead-end hallway. Some of them beckoned to us.

“Is this every slave in the mansion?” I asked in surprise.

“More moving, less talking," said Bjorn.

He pointed at the wall behind the crowd. On the wall, a bluish symbol had appeared. An enormous six-pointed star with two concentric circles, one inscribed in the hexagon formed by the lines and the other circumscribed around the hexagon. As we watched, a glowing light materialized in the bigger circle and then turned into a scene--a sort of room, high-ceilinged and brightly lit with more people beyond it.

A glowing red flower suddenly appeared in the air above the crowd. 

"The portal's open," said Bjorn. "It's time to go now."

The crowd began moving through the glowing star-portal. Bjorn, Anton, Emryth, and I were in the back. 

Stepping through the portal was a sensation similar to stepping through the film over the doorways to shops and venues in hell. I turned to look at the portal as we stepped through. It shrunk until it had vanished.

Above it was a huge text: "Union of Satanonian Imps."

"Where are we?" I asked, turning toward Bjorn--but he wasn't there.

I looked around wildly before spotting him up on a large stage in front of the huge group of slaves with a podium.

"Hello, former slaves," he said. His voice, which I had formerly only heard in quiet whispers, was strong and confident. I'd always been jealous of how people could just project their voice and carry themselves like that. He was a leader. "I understand you may all be confused. This is the Union of Satanonian Imps, or the U.S.I.. It is a secret agency, created by many, many imps to start a fire of rebellion to take down the hierarchical system of the city of Satanoni. Many of us are in slavery because we could not tempt. Because we felt guilt over our sins. And that is a problem with this city, which we, the U.S.I., intend to rectify! Every month, we rescue as many slaves as we can from as many slaver's venues as we can. We intend to be the saviors of the downtrodden. It is atrocious and incorrect that those of us with hearts and regret get punished, while those of us who are truly evil ascend ranks to become powerful! That it the mission of the U.S.I.. To get justice for imps. To combat the castes of Satanoni. To make the citizens of Satanoni equal in their basic rights as sentient beings."

There was silence, and then a cheer, startling me. 

The only thing I could think was: how did imps think they could go up against the archdemons of hell?

"Decorum!" called Bjorn, and I looked up at him. A shiver went up my spine as I realized he was looking back at me. I wasn't sure if it was nervousness or some other feeling. His eyes held mine as he began speaking. "I have more to say. I know you may be wondering how us imps with our illusion parlor tricks could possibly stand against the likes of Satan himself, and his magic. The only thing illusions can do is hide us, deceive those of us who seek us. What can an illusion do to the physical power of an archdemon?

"Well, we have a trump card. We searched for someone like him for perhaps a decade, and we have found him. We have found someone who can change the game. Who can turn the tide of our secret battle for the better.

"We have the son of one of an archdemon," said Bjorn, and he got off the podium. He slowly began walking through the crowd, which parted around him. Toward me.

"We have the son of Giovanna Bianchi Boselli," he continued. He put his hand on my shoulder and turned to the crowd. "We have the son of Satan's love, the archdemon Giovanna Bianchi Boselli, the witch who persuaded God himself to sin. She is an archdemon of her own making, who convinced God himself to kill a man.

"This is Amaro Boselli, and as son of an archdemon he will be our savior."