Viktor woke with a start, his muscles spasming in the cold. He laid on a frozen lake of perfect white ice. The sky above him was nothing but a black expanse, not a single star in the sky. In the distance, in a circle around his location, a storm raged. A solid sheet of snow and sleet and ice rained down, forming an impassable wall against all intruders.

Viktor stared in awe at the horrifying power of nature around him. No. This isn't nature. Nothing in nature would do this so perfectly. His rational mind reassured him. This was something else. A cough sounded behind him, and he twisted around to see the source of the noise.

A man sat on a small stool, fishing into a hole in the ice. He wore faded jeans and a blue and red striped shirt with a black thermal vest overtop. His face was weathered my age and stress, a lower face full of whiskers and scraggly hairs. His eyes were the only unusual thing about him: all black without any differing portions.

"What's the matter, boy? Cat got your tongue? Something... else?"

Viktor stared back. After a pause, he spoke.

"...Jesus? Peter? Gabriel?" A last hopeful question, his mind seeking as he predicted the answer. The man gave a dark chuckle, emanating from the air around his chest.

"Not quite." Viktor's heart fell into his feet, "But not quite the other thing you're thinking, either. "

The man winked and stood up, clothes melting around his body as his face shimmered. The thermal vest became a slick black three-piece suit, the shirt a crimson tie with blue accents. The faded jeans literally faded away, replaced by pants matching the suit jacket. His weathered face smoothed out, whiskers and facial hair falling away until he was a handsome young man with a face that could have been 30 or 60 at the same time.

As the man changed, so did the environment. The ice beneath Viktor clarified into gorgeous crystal, rising up out of the ground until he was inside some sort of crystal palace. The air remained frigid, but the view became spectacular and horrifying. The storm didn't disappear, but clouds appeared above it. Lightning flashed, and silhouettes of monstrous beings flickered into view for an instant.

Viktor stopped his ogling at the outside world and looked back to the mysterious being who spoke to him, his mind racing with possible identities and scenarios.

"Well, as delicious as I find all this... uncertainty, I'll end the suspense. My name... one of them, anyways, is Mephistopheles. I'm... somewhat of an acquaintance of your great-grandfather's. Many of the greats."

Viktor's mind scrambled. His mother's family was nothing special, but everyone had done some research into their last name. Viktor Faust. Like the old legend, a man sacrificed spiritual wealth and relationship with God for material wealth and power in the physical world. Was this Mephistopheles, the name of the devil in the story, claiming that it was true?

It wasn't the strangest thing to happen this week. Considering the circumstances, Viktor knew he had to master himself. He stood up and straightened his back, the devil's fanged grin widening at the motion.

"So, you're the devil. I suppose that means I'm in hell?" Viktor knew he wasn't based on what Mephistopheles had said previously, but he hoped to draw out the truth by stating the obviously incorrect.

"Yes, goodness me, you're in hell. Wasn't that obvious? But you aren't in Hell," Mephistopheles taunted Viktor, relishing in the human's confusion.

"See, one of the things I think the little angels' sales pitch does not make clear is just how much power those of us in Purgatory have up, down, or over there in the main world. Several centuries ago, I took a little jaunt using all that negative energy Faust (the important one, not you), was emitting. I made a deal with him.

That deal cost him his relationship with the big man upstairs. To him? Not too big of a deal. To me? Also not that big of a deal. A pittance. All that celestial energy tying each mortal to their celestial puppeteer is, in the grand scheme of things, a drop in the bucket for me. What I gave him? A little bit of increased luck. Some wealth, made him attractive, some smaller improvements here and there. But man, that guy had a lot of fun. So much fun, in fact, he became a legend! Even I was impressed, which doesn't happen often.

But all that means is that I was having a pretty good day when I went over to collect. Took his relationship, about to be on my merry way, when he made a request. 'One more chance' is what he requested. Send him somewhere else where he could have a second chance at being good. So, easily enough, I snatched his soul and brought it back down to Purgatory. But I was in such a good mood, I made another deal with him. If any version of him, even after reincarnation, made it into another judgement, restored his relationship with Heaven, and got him through those pearly gates, I'd ensure that each of his true descendants got a second chance just like he got. Pretty sweet deal, no?" He spread his hands like a magician waiting for applause.

Viktor drank in this information like a man stranded in the desert.

"You said I'm in hell, but now you're saying we're in Purgatory. Which is it?" Viktor queried.

"Ah, an excellent question. I would expect no less from the descendant of my greatest entertainment. Yes, to clarify, we are in Purgatory. But Purgatory is composed of hundreds of worlds. One of these worlds is the Infernal Realm, 'hell' with a little 'h'. We're a point in space that defies all physics, as most things in Purgatory do. Many devil lords and demon kings have a little slice of it, and many spells and abilities interact with our area differently than other points in Purgatory. But ultimately, the torture is temporary for everyone here. Souls are made into demons and devils, taken out through resurrection magic, etcetera. When you go downstairs, like your girlfriend, you don't come back up."

Viktor's breath caught in his throat, but before he could interject, Mephistopheles continued.

"Ahhh, the sweet taste of mortal agony. Truly, I relish it. But, like I said, your girlfriend went downstairs. I won't elaborate on that any further. Maybe I mean one of the lower floors of the Infernal Realm. Maybe I mean Hell. You won't know. But I will say this, and on my name as Mephistopheles, Devil King of the Infernal Realm, Master of the Frozen Soul, Keeper of the Third Arcane Sigil, and a whole mess of other impressive titles, I swear this to you: your beloved is not lost. If you amass the power required, you'll be able to take her back and live your happily ever after. This, I swear to you on my name." As Mephistopheles spoke, blue flames wreathed his body, and the wails of the damned echoed behind his every word. Viktor shivered, this time not from the temperature, goosebumps raising on his flesh.

"Why would you tell me all that. Why not just send me on my way to Purgatory?" He questioned the devil.

"That's a simple answer, but first I'll explain one last thing. See, as part of this whole ancestry deal, I give you Fausts another gift. This ties into the answer I just mentioned, so don't interrupt. This last little gift is the ability to make deals. Not deals like everyone else in Purgatory can make. Your deals will carry quite a bit more weight. They'll have the same weight as a deal with any devil. Soulbound contracts that can't be broken. And, here's the best part, you'll be able to make deals for portions of creatures' souls. Do you know where skills, knowledge, memories, experience, and everything else that makes Purgatory run are stored? That's right! The soul. Anything you can think of, you'll be able to make a deal for. Just. Like. Me. Exciting, yes?" Mephistopheles smiled like a parent waiting to see their child open a Christmas gift. Viktor refused to bite.

"But why? Why do all those things for me? What do you get out of it?" Viktor pestered Mephistopheles, and the devil fell back into his chair, exasperated. He threw a hand up into the air.

"Because it's fun, you Debbie downer! Gah, you're like the most uptight Faust I've met! I give you this power and it's like your my son or something. Whenever you do anything interesting, the other devil's will think 'damn it's that Faustian deal Mephistopheles keeps making. What a great and interesting devil that guy is'. That's what they'll think, and I'll laugh and clap and torture all the souls in my domain while I watch what you do like it's cable. Or whatever streaming service has taken over the meta nowadays. That is what I will be getting out of it. I think it's clear that the risks are far outweighed by the benefits for you. So shake my hand, and let's move on out of here. Understood? I have a feeling it'll be an interesting season one.

Mephistopheles stood and walked around the desk, hand outstretched. "Word to the not so wise, my Faustian friend. That cool, calculating, personality you've got? Don't let it crack like you did before you died. I suspect that would bring about a repeating of the death thing and send you right into the reincarnation queue. That would ruin my fun. Now, shake my hand!"

Viktor sighed, and touched his hand. Blue flames flared up around them, and then the world went dark.