Belial pushed the memories he hadn't known he'd had back down into the darker recesses of his subconscious. It made him uneasy that he did not know something about himself. He'd been buried in his job for so many centuries though, he supposed, that any being would forget their past in his position.

The more disturbing part was that they were resurfacing. There was something about this place--or maybe just the beings in it--that jogged his memories of things that had been a very, very long time ago, even for him.

"I-It's nothing," he said, surprised at the shake in his own voice. He cleared his throat and straightened, face stony. "There's really no need to apologize. But..." he hesistated, "I'm likely not the best person to ask what is 'right' or 'wrong'. My answer would be a bit biased."