"Ugh..."
A brittle cracking noise echoed beneath him as Asmodeus stirred, his naked body nestled between oil-slicked sheets and a crust of dark, flaking sludge. As he sat up, the strange shell split apart and clung to his back like cracked paint, falling to pieces around him with each movement.
His muscles popped audibly, every joint clicking into place as if his body had been reforged in the night. When he flexed his fingers, small golden sparks trailed along his knuckles, vanishing before he could study them.
"What the hell...?"
He brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed the dried mud-like flakes covering his arms and chest.
"Hrrrk!?"
It smelled horrible, like rotten apples soaked in vinegar and buried in a mouldy swamp. Asmodeus held his stomach as it churned. The acidic stench hit him again, bitter and earthy, layered with a sour tang that reminded him of spoiled wine.
