Father & Son

Avernus, The Palace of Samael. 

The adversary himself was lounging in bed being fed grapes by one of his consorts. 

After his battle with the mad god Jaldabaoth, Samael did not have even a single wound and carried on his business like nothing at all had happened.

He was only mildly annoyed by the damage that had been caused to his realm as a result of their conflict but that was quickly being repaired. 

As such, Samael prepared to spend another millennium in leisure, entertained by the antics of his favorite grandchild through this strange connection they now shared. 

The archangel could now understand why those sniveling humans spent so much time watching their televised devices. 

Observing the adventures of another like this was all terribly entertaining.

"Is our sweet grandchild doing well?" Igrat asked as she rubbed his body and fed him another grape.

"He is... ?"