[Location: Gluttony Circle, Third Hell]
The Gluttony Circle was never silent. It seethed with endless hunger—streets built of pulsing flesh, markets trading in screaming livestock, and air so thick with the stench of rot and grease that even demons gagged. Above it all, the Capital of Mawthorne loomed, a metropolis carved into the ribs of a fallen behemoth, its bone towers glowing with sickly green fires that never died out.
And in the middle of it—an unnatural cold was spreading.
The citizens of Gluttony—demons with jaws too wide for their skulls, ghouls whose bellies bulged grotesquely with unending hunger, and glutton-fiends that carried hooks to drag prey into their throats—paused in their feast-screams. They were creatures born of bottomless appetite, whose flesh healed the instant they tore it open just to eat again. They didn't understand stillness. They didn't understand cold.
But Grayfia Lucifuge made them learn.
