On the Plain of Infinite Portals, it was another ordinary morning, and Theris changed shifts as usual.
Theris was an utterly ordinary chain devil. His status within Baator's hierarchy was neither high nor low, placing him squarely in the middle ranks of devils. In short, Theris was one of Baator's countless inhabitants, the most ordinary kind.
Theris did not actually like his chain devil form. His body was adorned with countless barbed chains, while ash-gray flesh covered in grotesque scars showed through the gaps where the chains bound him. Dragging those clanking iron chains around every day was not only annoyingly loud, but also incredibly heavy and uncomfortable. More importantly, he couldn't fucking take them off, because those chains were part of his body. Had anyone ever disliked their own hands so much that they chopped them off?
Of course not, so Theris could only endure it. He often thought that when the great Lord Asmodeus, King of Hell, had designed the ranks and forms of devils, he must have deliberately made every devil form utterly terrible. Only then would all devils yearn for higher forms. And to ascend to a higher form, they had to work hard at their tasks and contribute to Baator's cause. It was a form of motivation, he supposed.
What Theris hoped for most was to earn enough merit to free himself from this damned chain devil form and become a glorious reaper devil or pain devil. (Among devil ranks, reaper devils and pain devils were of equal standing, merely assigned different duties. Reaper devils specialized in operating on the Material Plane and harvesting mortal souls, while pain devils, as their name implied, specialized in torture and interrogation.)
If possible, Theris would rather become a reaper devil, because then he could escape Baator and enjoy