"Him?"

'Punishment. Just as I am Evil personified, there is Punishment personified. I would not call him an ally of mine, yet he may be useful against our common enemies nonetheless'

"Ah, makes sense."

'He is here now, if you would wish to speak to him.'

"It may be nice to meet him."

'Follow me'

Cato leads him down a long spiral staircase that seems to go on for miles, the air getting cooler and darker with each step

Luke follows him down, trying not to seem cold

At the bottom of the staircase, the walls are a shiny black, but the lack of light means barely anything can shine off of them. There is a thick metal vault door set in the wall, with an indentation big enough for a human hand

"Is he locked in there?"

'By his own wishes, yes' Cato puts his hand in the indentation, and the door opens. His hand is now bleeding, and his face grimacing

"Cato, what happened?"

'I paid the entry fee. Pain. He likes it that way'

"Oh, this punishment guy seems more cruel than you."

'I'd say he's equally cruel. But in the opposite way than I am'

Inside the room, there is a figure sat on a throne. His skin is almost pure white, as if it has never once seen daylight, and his figure is so thin and bony that he might be mistaken for a skeleton or corpse. Intricate patterns are carved into his flesh, and a black fluid drips from his eyes. The throne itself is made of dark metal and stone, with tubes leading out of it directly into the figure's arms

i gtg bye))

*bye!*

From the entrance, spreads a presence. It drains away the red from the rooms and turns them yellow, the white becoming a dark grey. It slowly spreads from room to room. In shadows, yellow eyes open up. Then, a pool of black goo forms, and rising out of it, is none other than Lonely, the living embodiment of isolation. 

'Good afternoon, and welcome to my not-so-humble abode' Cato greets him. 'Would you like a glass of blood wine?'

Quote from 10_30inDutch >>

'I'd say he's equally cruel. But in the opposite way than I am'

Inside the room, there is a figure sat on a throne. His skin is almost pure white, as if it has never once seen daylight, and his figure is so thin and bony that he might be mistaken for a skeleton or corpse. Intricate patterns are carved into his flesh, and a black fluid drips from his eyes. The throne itself is made of dark metal and stone, with tubes leading out of it directly into the figure's arms

 "Hello, sir, I'm Lucius Tiberius IV, pleased to make your acquaintance."

The figure smiles, or grimaces, it's honestly hard to tell. 'Good to see you, Lucius Tiberius IV. I have been waiting'