Chapter 122.1: Welcome to Hell. Where Are You?
Chapter 122.1: Welcome to Hell. Where Are You?
He was alive.
He was alive?!
How was he alive?
He opened his eyes, having shut them tightly in anticipation of the death that was inevitably coming.
And when he opened them, he saw something…how could he even express the feeling? Amazing? Breathtaking? Awe-inspiring? Or maybe the correct term was closer to terrifying. Enlightening?
It was an empty expanse of stone. An infinitely-large expanse of stone. Rock floors, bumpy, with massive craters embedded in the surface.
And nothing above.
The Devil had never truly set foot outside of the Underworld. Sure, he’d been Projected into the Overworld, but he was never really there. He was seeing the sights and hearing the sounds, but his true self still resided in the Underworld that whole time. It wasn’t the same—not at all, he now realized.
But now. His full, real self was standing in a room without a ceiling. There was just…sky. Over his head, there was nothing but a sea of stars.
His first thought was that he was in the Overworld. But he quickly realized that he was not there. First, this place obviously had a different environment. Not only was it visually different—a field of gray rock as far as the eye could see—but it felt different, too. It was cold—lethally cold, to any normal being. And the air…it was different, too. Could a Human even breathe here?
Finally, up in the sky, there was a clear difference. It was pitch dark, as a first point. Complete black above his head, nothing but the stars to tell him that there was anything above him at all. He could see the sun, which should have meant it was daytime, but it wasn’t turning the sky that familiar blue color he knew the Overworld to have. It was still black, just…bright.
And finally, there was another object in the sky. Out there, with the stars and the sun, there was one more celestial body. It was a strange one, bright blue and green, moving steadily above. What was that place? The Devil had seen the sun and the stars from the Overworld, but he’d never seen this thing up there. Had he just missed it? Admittedly, he hadn’t paid much attention to what was upward during his short visits.
He looked back down and around himself. Nothing. Just emptiness. Not even the teleporter was behind him. Not a single sign that another being had ever been here. At least, not in a long, long time.
“Hello?” He called out.
No response.
“Anyone? Are you there?”
Nothing.
“Is this some sort of test?”
The void did not answer.
“Was I supposed to die? Did I somehow survive? Where is this place?”
Nobody was there.
“Am I alone?”
A minute passed.
“Is there anyone out there?” The Devil wandered.
An hour passed.
The Devil wandered some more. Stone. Nothing but stone.
“Please,” he muttered.
Another hour passed.
“Anyone?” He asked. “Am I going to die here?”
How long would it take? He wasn’t some Human. He wouldn’t die of thirst, or of starvation. Maybe, given a couple years, he’d die from the cold? Would he just have to wait?
Another hour passed.
The Devil sat down on the edge of one of the many craters that dotted the surface of this strange place. Should he just…sit there? Until he died? There was nothing to do. No task to work on. It was just nothing.
Another hour passed.
The Devil wondered if Arlan Nota had been killed yet. Well, it’d only been a few hours. And that was from his perspective. Since time flowed differently in the Underworld, it wouldn’t have even been an hour in the Overworld yet. Or, was the Devil even in the Underworld, anymore? This was the same sky he saw in the Overworld, so maybe he’d been transported through realms.
Another hour passed.
The Devil tried to sleep, and failed.
Another hour passed.
The Devil lay down and stared up at the sun in the dark sky, trying to see how long it would take for his eyes to burn.
Another hour passed.
The Devil shouted for a while, just to see if he could make an echo. What else was he to do? Nothing? Something? What did it matter? He was going to die anyway. This was an execution, right? He’d been condemned to die, it was just going to take a long, long time for the guillotine to sever his neck.
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
The Devil’s hopes that perhaps this was some sort of test faded away. At first he thought that maybe they were just trying to scare him. Perhaps this was just some intimidation tactic, a “this is what will happen for real if you don’t succeed this time.” Perhaps it was just them saying “this is what we have the power to do. Don’t forget that.” Perhaps it was just them saying “don’t fail us again. You are mortal.”
It didn’t seem to be what they were saying.
It seemed like they just wanted him to die. For real. If it was a test, he failed it somehow. If it was an intimidation tactic, he’d been sufficiently intimidated an hour in. Really, they’d sufficiently intimidated him by the time they started dragging him toward Door 999. They wouldn’t have even had to throw him through to get him to work a bit harder.
No, this was just an execution.
He didn’t feel fear anymore. Just certainty. He was going to die.
What was this place? Who knew. Who cared. It didn’t matter. It was his gravesite, that was what it was. It was a place Demons went to die, and that was all that was important to the Devil.
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
The Devil wondered what that blue and green sphere in the sky was. What were the stars? What was the sun? Were they gods, their radiance so brilliant that they impressed light upon a dark world? Were they the Demon Kings of old? Having finished their rule of the Underworld and ascended into a new form? Were they just some meaningless balls of fire?
But no matter what he decided the sun and the stars were, he still couldn’t decide on what the blue ball was. If the others shined because they were Demons or Gods, why was that one dim? If the others were made of fire, what was that one made of? Why was it colored? What was it doing there?
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
Surely, the Devil would die sooner than he’d first assumed, right? Surely, he’d die in a matter of days, not years, right? Would he just have to kill himself? But why would he kill himself, when he still had life left to live? But why would he live the rest of his life, if it was full of nothingness?
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
The Devil got back up and kept wandering. Maybe he could find a way back to the Underworld. If another Demon got pushed through a teleporter in another Door 999, maybe the Devil could slip back through in that very moment. Even if he couldn’t, at least then he’d have someone to talk to.
Did anyone know where those teleporters led to? He didn’t know, his colleagues didn’t know, his underlings didn’t know. Who would? Did his superiors even know? Maybe they did. Someone had to have put the teleporters there. But maybe the people who put the teleporters there were all dead by now. Maybe everyone just knew that Door 999 was where you put someone when you wanted to kill them, so when a Demon wanted to kill someone, they just used Door 999. No questions asked.
But surely the higher-ups had to know, right? Teleporters required maintenance occasionally, or they’d break down. Someone had to fix them.
Ironically, the Devil knew that someone out there knew where Door 999 led. He did. In his lowest moment, the lowest of Demons knew where it went. He just couldn’t tell anyone.
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
Another hour passed.
The Devil stopped wandering. He didn’t find anything, as he thought he wouldn’t. Why would he find something? Why would he think he’d find something? He lay back down and stared back up at the sky.
The blue sphere continued to move across his sight.
Twenty-four hours passed.