Any other being might have called the landscape "hellish," but Balthazar had seen Hell. The real Hell, with its many different lands full of pain, suffering, torment, and of course, its enemies. Although the angel (former, it's former now) had to give this skillet the Workers here called the Overworld some credit; it certainly was nothing to sneeze at. Especially now that he could no longer travel where he liked at will and was now (un)comfortably stuck in his human vessel.

Still, though, he supposed jumping into the proverbial frying pan couldn't be that bad if it was leading away from the Cave. Despite the stifling climate, Balthazar breathed deep and made his way forward.

"How wonderful for them to let us work on our tans."