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Chamber of the House of Black, Grand Sanctum of Demiurge — Some time later. Deep within the heart of the majestic sanctum were seats for roughly five-hundred demons of varying political power and pedigree. Every last seat belonged to a magistrate or member of minor royalty. All had joined from across the nations and cities of Yomi’s vast lands to this glorious capital. Their creeds and ambitions all lead them to serve as the body of Yomi’s government: the House of Black.
This day however, the chamber appeared empty; with only silence lingering about as amber rays of light bled through the crystalline ceiling. If one sat alone in such a room as this, they would be washed over by a sense of unfamiliar nostalgia; as if flipping through an old book. It was the feeling of unlived history, the sensation of being transported back in a time before one’s own.
Despite appearing completely barren though, one soul sat within the nearly-vacant area. Their hands were folded, fingers interlocked. The figure had short silver hair yet still maintained a youthful visage. Dressed in the flowing robed gown of a powerful judge, the figure emitted a natural aura of authority and justice. The expression on their face was thoughtful and kind, while the creased lines on their brow spoke to an age on experience and hardship.
A door creaked open far from the chief judge, its sound echoing several times throughout the spacious walls. In walked the chief adviser, with his purple hair cascading past his shoulders. Both figures smiled at each other, immediately locating the other within moments.
“Naraka! My dear friend,” the judge spoke in a deep, resonating voice full with mirth. “How has fortune been treating the legendary hero?”
Naraka worked through the maze of seats and desks to his old friend. A large smile was glued to his face, the kind a child would make after receiving a wondrous present for the holidays. They both embraced each other tightly.
“Look at you now, the Chief Justice of Yomi: Hurr Nidar!” Naraka said proudly at Nidar’s recent advancement.
The black robes Nidar wore were accented in purples so dark they appeared almost umbral. Thin golden chains hung loosely from his gown in loops, with a long gold necklace around his neck that reached to his breastbone. The man resembled a pharaoh or a king more than a chief justice. His strong facial features and dark skin highlighted his sky blue eyes, which always appeared more of a grey once the sun reflected off them.
“Thank you kindly, my friend. I worked hard to achieve this feat, just as you always have. I promised I wouldn’t meet you again like this until I advanced myself to a state equal to your own, Naraka.”
“I remember that talk, actually!” Naraka stated with a finger to his chin in remembrance. “Goddamn, we were younger then…”
Nidar laughed and placed his hand strongly upon his friend’s shoulder.
“And in all those years up till now, your tongue is still loose when it comes to our Lord. Watch he doesn’t burn it to a simmering pulp one day,” Nidar smirked.
Naraka often forgot how much he had to watch his language and actions around Nidar with matters involving religion. The judge was a strict believer in the child god Kagutsuchi, father of all demons. Everything Nidar possessed throughout his life, he attributed to the patron deity of Yomi.
“Forgive me. Perhaps I could use some divine intervention right now…” Naraka trailed off, sitting next to Nidar’s original seat. His colleague sat beside him, looking at his now worried face.
“Yes… I suppose we should get to the matter of which you asked to meet. Thank you for traveling all this way. Meeting after work was the closest I could convene with you.”
“Mura— …My successor has been arrested on counts of treason against the Empire, Nidar. I… I was foolish. I underestimated them completely.”
“Treason?? By the black sun, Naraka… this is more serious than you led on. He’ll be lucky not to be put to death.”
“No!! Mura cannot die. I know he’s the one. That boy is the only one that can succeed me, I just know it…” Naraka sighed out. He sat in the quiet as Nidar thought. “I care too much for the boy… as if he were of my own blood.”
“I’m happy you’ve found a kindred spirit in him, my friend. You cannot let such a treasure escape your grasp, Naraka. I simply won’t allow for it.”
Nidar smiled softly at Naraka.
“I will investigate into the matter, see if the evidence can be disputed. But even still, this is a declaration from the Emperor. There’s no guarantee I can get him off as innocent…” Nidar whispered, leaning towards Naraka. “I detest our new ruler just as much as you. However, in cases such as these, he’d almost always secure a victory at any cost…”
“You speak truth. After all, His Majesty could never afford to be proven incorrect in such a matter...” Naraka said under his breath. “But please, we must keep the trial from going public. At least for now…”
Nidar nodded.
“Very well, I’ll make certain the media doesn’t catch wind of the arrest. But at the same time, such a private trial runs a higher risk of manipulation from above. We must be cautious.”
“Agreed. I’ll continue contact through Ouija henceforth. Thank you… truly, from the bottom of my heart. I don’t know if I can ever repay you for this kindness.”
“Ha! Naraka the Hero in my debt?! That’s an interesting thought!” Nidar chortled, his voice booming from the laughter.
“Yes, yes. Don’t make me take it back, you hear?” Naraka said sternly, pointing his finger. With a smile, they both shook hands.
“Of course, of course! May the heavens grant our friend the justice he deserves!” Nidar said with a determined smile.
❇ ❇ ❇
DIS Maximum Security Institution, Ashuradō — Elsewhere underneath the city. Mura’s eyelids fluttered briefly before opening. Sitting up to better ascertain his surroundings, he found himself sitting within a pitch black void. His lower torso was submerged within a thick liquid, much like a sap of some sort. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he didn’t really want to find out either.
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“Hello? Is anyone there…?”
No response. Mura tried to stand, but he couldn’t physically bring himself to do so. It was as if his legs were paralyzed or simply refused to follow such a routine command.
Plop. A sickly sound emanated a few feet in front of him, like a heavy stone thrown into a vat of syrup.
“Who’s there?! Where am I?!”
Another plopping noise, this one closer. As Mura’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out a towering figure dressed in robes with long stringy hair down around its shoulders. Down around its waist several long tubes dangled limply from the skirts of the imposing figure.
Mura tried to move away, but couldn’t. His entire body was frozen in fear.
The liquid around his body raised higher and higher, sealing him within a viscous tomb. The deathly shadow moved closer to him, as if slithering like a serpent or slug. It had no visible legs to walk forward that Mura could spot, which begged the question of what was creating the plopping noises.
Another thunk into the odd water, this time right in front of him. His body ran cold as icy chills coursed through his blood. Something brushed against his legs and front. Multiple unknown entities brushed up to him. Small in size but with another weight to be felt from the liquid displacing around them.
Mura couldn’t speak. Lighting streaked across the void in a vibrant flash of blue, illuminating the scene for a brief moment.
He wanted to scream out as his eyes widened in terror. The objects against his motionless body were the severed heads of Lilith and Tomoe; their final expressions frozen in pain and hellish torment. The shadow was also lit up briefly, the tubes hanging from its waist revealed to be decomposing arms; torn from past foes that lost against this monster.
The face of the humanoid beast was beautiful yet imposed the dread of death itself. It possessed two eyes, one with the whites of the sclera replaced with the shade of a plum and the iris of a blazing sun. The other eye was an empty socket, two rows of teeth forming a clenched grin inside the hole.
Reaching into the sanguine liquid before them, the dreadful specter retrieved another head. Another blast of lighting coursed through the dark sky, revealing the features of the final head torn from the neck of its last victim.
Mura stared at the face of the decapitated head in terror as the shadow grinned. He felt his heart seize as seven pale hands emerged from the blood he was submerged in. They grabbed his body and with a final pull into the hell that awaited him, Mura disappeared into the murky abyss.
Flinging himself upwards, Mura screamed out as he awoke from the nightmare. A cold sweat was coating his skin like morning dew, his chest heaving as it struggled to intake air.
His mind struggled to process what had happened. He tried to recall the events from the terrible dream, but the harder he tried the more fleeting they became. He quickly retired the effort, focusing on calming down and analyzing his unfamiliar surroundings.
— Damn it… What happened? The last thing that happened...
He recalled being grabbed and pulled down. The demon Grendel appeared and knocked him out. More and more details trickled back into his brain, reminding him of the unfortunate realization that another nightmare was currently ongoing within his reality.
Mura looked down, noticing he was on a cot with a thick white blanket overtop his legs. The mattress was thin and the bare minimum in comfort. He has slept on better surfaces living on the street. The walls around him were cobbled together from stones of varying greys and blacks. Before his eyes was a wall of shimmering blue energy, a force field constructed by magic. Around him was a small table bolted to the floor and wall, lacking any sort of chair. A chromatic toilet was in the corner of the dimly-lit chamber.
Mura was without a doubt inside a prison cell.
“Shit.”
He peered around for any other forms of life, noticing that his friend wasn’t in the same location as himself.
“Lilith?” he called out.
He didn’t receive a response. She wasn’t the only thing that was gone. His clothing had been replaced by a brick-red shirt and slacks, clearly having been washed thousands of times over the course of decades and passed on from one condemned soul to the next.
His slipstream ring was confiscated, of course. They didn’t even leave his headband behind, causing his shaggy black hair to droop freely.
“Anyone else around in this shithole?” Mura decided to ask, sliding out from his blanket and bed.
He didn’t see any guards around. No need for them with surveillance and defense spells abound.
“Anyone here??” Mura shouted this time, placing his hands upon the shimmering shield locking him inside. It was like a sheet of impenetrable glass, allowing no hope of a jail break. He peered out as much as he could at the rest of the prison in front of his cell.
It was a simple hallway, stone and lit with torch-like spells that clung to the walls. The atmosphere was dismal and depressive with very little light. Perfect for demoralizing inmates. The hallway seemed to curve the further right he looked, spiraling downwards.
“Hello?! Can anyone even hear me—“
“Yes! Yes, people can bloody damn hear you! Now shut it!” a voice shouted back, coming from the cell adjacent from his.
“Sorry!” Mura said, lowering his tone. “I’m just trying to figure out where I am.”
The voice laughed, displaying a boyishness lightheartedness in its tone. His form and features were obscured as he sat within the murky darkness of his own cell.
“You what, mate? You don’t know this place, or maybe you simply buried that notion after how shit the hole we’re in in,” the man said sardonically. “We’re in DIS, friend.”
“DIS? You gotta be kidding me…” Mura said in disbelief.
He recognized the name. It was a super-prison, made to be inescapable. Simply put, only extremely powerful criminals were sent to such a place. It was one of the oldest prisons in Yomi, yet renowned for never having a single escapee.
“Say, you’re that Bleedstriker fella, ain’t cha?” the man asked in an amused tone.
“Yeah, something like that…” Mura said, lost in thought of what his current options were.
“Well fancy that. Didn’t know I was next to a celebrity here!”
“Thanks, I suppose. I’m really not though, barely lasted a week.”
“Eh, don’t feel too down about it. Lasted longer than the other two before you, at least. Got to kill one of them too, so that must have felt nice!” the man laughed. “As for me, maybe I’ll tell you my name if it even seems worthwhile.”
Mura raised an eyebrow.
“Worthwhile? Planning on getting out of here, stranger?” he said sarcastically.
“Of course! Not to brag, mate but these are just holding cells. We’re both here until sentencing. After that, if found guilty, we’ll be moved much further down. After that, you might as well knock yourself as you’ll never see freedom again. Folk in here are either executed or staying for life.”
“So… how does that equate to you escaping?”
“Oh, I won’t be escaping. That’d be impossible even from here. Magic blocks all special spells and powers. I plan on getting off scot-free, mate!” he chuckled. “See, I have some friends in high places… one of which happens to be this bloke called Asmodeus. I work for the guy, kinda high up the underworld ladder he is.”
“Can’t say I’ve heard of him, but that’s wonderful for you.”
The man laughed to himself, still submerged in the dark.
“Well friend, it’s been something I suppose. Nothing but luck to ya!” he said to Mura in a friendly-yet-snarky tone.
Mura sat back on his cot. His mind was numb, completely overwhelmed by the events of the day.
Suddenly, a voice came out from what appeared to be the ceiling of his cell.
“Prisoner 982304924: prepare yourself for immediate transport. A visitor has requested to see you.”
The voice disappeared as quickly as it arrived, fading into nothing. Before Mura could wonder who the visitor was, he was enveloped in a field of blue. His body was compressed as if sliding through a tight tunnel as he flew through spacetime. It was a teleportation spell and a fast one at that.
Within the blink of an eye, Mura was seated in a chair. His arms and feet were fastened to magical shackles, restricting his movement. The cube of a room he was inside of was much brighter than his cell was, requiring him a moment to adjust to the lighting shift.
After blinking a few more times, Mura could see the form of a familiar face behind the arcane barrier in front of him. His visitor was none other than Kishin.