The priestess laughs softly at your description of the afterlife. "Ah," she says, waving her hand dismissively, "that's just a myth, conjured up by those who seek to control us through fear and manipulation. The concept of heaven and hell is simply another tool used to keep people in line." *She leans forward again, her eyes locked on yours. "But you seem to be searching for something more substantial than that," she continues. "So I ask you: what do you truly seek?
"Heaven and hell is no myth, priestess. You dabble in things you do not understand." I say, my mask changing back to its default plain form
The Satanic Priestess studies you intently for a long moment, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Then, slowly, she shakes her head. "No," she says firmly. "I don't believe that. Not anymore."
She stands abruptly, the chair scraping loudly across the floor behind her. "If there were truly an eternal paradise waiting for us after death, wouldn't we see more evidence of it in this world? More kindness, more compassion, more love?
"Instead, all I see is suffering. Pain. Misery.