Write

They gathered in the woods. In ones and twos, hiding in lengthening shadows. None walked there proudly, none stood tall, with their eyes blazing. No. This was a gathering of shame, a coven of the embarrassed and beaten.

It was probably Malachai who spoke first, that devil of lovely hair who had seduced women away from their husbands for centuries. "I think it is long past time that we declare failure." There were many murmurs of agreement, along with a few shouts of disapproval.

Barbastos came next, his red skin oiled and beautiful. He was known for his ability to tempt anyone into anything, given time. "Quite right. We've always been here, and there is nothing we can do."

The assorted demons, devils, and other strange things said their piece, but soon all were agreed. Leave this world, they had failed to corrupt it, failed to tempt those to sin, failed to convince the puny creatures to give themselves to the cause.

It had done so itself. The venality of it all shocked some of the older demons, those who had first crawled out of shadow, first bared their teeth to the sun. A thousand wants, and million desires, and ten million sins, every day. And none of them the fault of the demons.

There were quotas to be met, and not a one had been fulfilled since at least electricity. It was simply to hard to grab the attention of a mortal in the age of easy wish fulfillment. That was how humanity won.