No one knew when the Blood War, which had stretched across the Lower Planes for countless millennia, would finally end.
Just as no one knew exactly when it had begun.
As for its origins, scholars from every plane had put forth all manner of theories based on the scattered clues they had unearthed.
Some claimed that ever since the demons, led by the Queen of Chaos, had launched their Chaotic Crusade against the gods of the Starry Sea, the endless Blood War had begun after that War of Dawn.
Yet more scholars believed that the Blood War had been a continuation of the eternal conflict between the gods of order and demons since the world's earliest days.
After all, it was no secret that devils had originated from Angels who had fallen from order.
Nor had Asmodeus, Lord of the Nine Hells, ever deigned to conceal that fact.
Perhaps, in the eyes of that being, those who ought to feel ashamed were instead the gods of order who feared facing reality and its price.
As for the devils, their Blood War against demons had long since become a habit, inscribed into their filthy, foul bloodlines.
It had nothing to do with hatred, nothing to do with faith, nor did they believe their bloody struggles were in any way noble.
Perhaps by now, it was simply an instinct—the instinct to preserve the world's order, carried on from the dawn of creation.
Just as people had to eat, drink, shit, piss, and sleep to live, the devil warriors eternally stationed in Avernus had long grown accustomed to opening their eyes and immediately fighting demons to the death.
Though some devil recruits would often hear their more seasoned colleagues lament like this:
"Getting 'beaten up' every damn day. If only we could fight