Américona moves like a whispered heresy — a Tiefling draped in silks that shimmer with forbidden hymns. Her horns are gilded, her eyes like twin stained-glass suns, and every motion breathes the perfume of worship and ruin. Once a muse of divine choirs, she rebelled against sanctity, turning devotion into performance and prayer into seduction. Her laughter intoxicates prophets; her songs bend hearts and minds alike. She is the embodiment of beauty weaponized — of holiness corrupted by touch...