How are you supposed to fight this?

The magnitude of the being before you is too much for you to handle. How could you fight something that could sweep aside mountains? Regardless of your divided opinions, some base, animal part of your brain is screaming in abject terror and demands to be heard. The Holy Sword of Saint Magdalena falls from your grasp as you crumple, curling into a ball on the ground and covering your head with your arms. You whimper disjointed prayers to your goddess, barely able to form coherent thoughts, attempting to shut out the terrifying power of your master with the familiar comfort of the Burning Rose. But you weren't a sister of the order anymore. Your prayers would go unanswered, just as they had when you'd first met this monster. A plea for aid, ignored by an impotent, uncaring deity.

A cool breeze ruffles your hair and a warm embrace folds itself around you, lifting you up from the parched hellscape. Astonished, you open your eyes, expecting to see the Burning Rose gazing imperiously down on you. Instead your master holds you in his arms, smiling sadly down at you, "I'm sorry mother, I didn't mean to frighten you. You just have to understand that you belong to me now. Your goddess has deserted you, the order expects you to smuggle their relics through hostile territory alone, and even your closest friends have been taken from you. You don't have to do this alone. Will you let me help you?"

It was as if every word he said reached in and pulled at your heartstrings. You desperately needed help, you were all alone in the world. You were **** to seek out aid in a witches hut for goddess's sake! Without your permission your hands have slid up to caress his muscular chest and your breath catches as he tenderly leans forward, meeting your lips with a lovers kiss. It feels so... Right. In a moment of perfect clarity you see yourself, the daemon, the world. You see how alone you are, how hopeless the situation is, how pointless your task is without a connection to your deity.

You pull away from the kiss, want and need and desire filling you as soon as it breaks, and you answer in a whisper, "Yes."