[ Surviving death (an inherently paradoxical concept) has given Regis perspective on many things: like, say, the ephemeral nature of everything, and the utter miracle that said ephemeral things are still able to bring him genuine joy. In five, fifty, five hundred years, Regis will likely remember this moment as strikingly novel despite the endless stretch of time and references available to him; he thinks that there's something very beautiful about that.

Anyway! That's a lot of philosophizing about a hell jester. Regis makes room for Fizz to perch on a slab of rock next to him if he'd like, and sets the basket and wine on top of two stacks of very thick, leather-bound books. ]

I prefer "visitor", [ he gently corrects. ] But, hm. Yes, I shall start if you've no objections.

[ No move to eat or drink on his end, though his dark eyes occasionally flit to the bottle. Abstaining has become harder and harder after his so-called "rebirth"; maybe it's Dettlaff's restless blood that compels him. ]

It's a widely regarded belief in this world that hell is where the souls of sinners go after they expire. This belief, in my opinion, serves two purposes: one, to discourage bad behavior and uphold an admittedly fragile moral order, and two, to give credence to the opposing idea of heaven.

[ Tl;dr- "I always thought heaven and hell were kinda bullshit, tbh." ]

I wonder how much this aligns with your reality.