Cedar, now fully clad in her new armor, ventured into Satan’s Citadel with Ari trailing close behind.

“Did you just fart?” Cedar grimaced, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s sulfur,” Ari replied. “My farts smell like lilacs and rainbows.”

A crunch sounded beneath her boots, drawing her gaze downward.

“What am I stepping on?” she asked, squinting into the dim light. Movement flickered at the edge of her vision.

“You don’t want to know,” Ari said. “We should keep moving. Fast.”

“The ground is moving—did you see that?” Cedar’s voice rose. “Can I get a headlamp or something?”

“Hold up.” Ari stopped and rummaged through his seemingly bottomless backpack. After a moment, he handed her a headlamp.

Cedar strapped it on and flicked it on. When she looked down again, her stomach lurched. The ground teemed with life: a writhing carpet of squirmy, squashy insects. Some had countless legs and brittle, glistening shells, while others were soft, oversized worms and slugs.

She glanced back toward the entrance, a pang of regret stabbing at her.

“We’re only a few feet in, and I’m already repulsed,” she said.

“It’s a hellish place. What did you expect?”

An arachnid the size of her hand scurried up her pant leg. Cedar screamed, leaping in place and slapping at her clothing in a frantic bid to dislodge it. Her stomach turned, but she knew retreat wasn’t an option—not this early. Summoning her resolve, she bolted across the seething insect sea, hoping to leave the wriggling mass behind in the next section.

“Run, Ari!” she yelled over her shoulder.

“I’m coming.”

Taking fast, light steps, Cedar zigzagged through the corridor, dodging the larger monstrosities but crushing countless smaller ones underfoot. Each pop and crunch beneath her boots sent shivers down her spine.

“Eww!” she screeched, not wanting to take a nose-dive into the sludgy carpet of excrement and goo. Her boots became caked with slippery oils, making each step comparable to a precarious dance on banana peels.

The further she ran, the worse it became. The creatures grew denser, their bodies squishier, their shells harder to avoid. For what felt like miles, she sprinted, her breath ragged, her nerves fraying with every step. Tears welled in her eyes as her throat tightened.

Her focus on the ground betrayed her. She didn’t see the sharp drop ahead until her toes hovered over the edge. She skidded to a stop, her heart pounding as she peered over the ledge.

Ari floated up beside her. She looked at him and then at his feet.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief.

“What?” he said with an innocent shrug. He glanced down at his clean boots. “Oh, this?”

“Yes, that,” she snapped.

Before Ari could respond, Cedar’s blood ran cold as she felt something scramble up her leg. A centipede, larger than her forearm, skittered across her back.

She screamed, flailing her arms and twisting her body in a desperate attempt to dislodge the creature. In her panic, she lost her balance and tumbled over the edge, landing hard in the sulfurous pit below.

The impact knocked the wind out of her, but the centipede clinging to her back was a far greater concern. Fighting her gag reflex, she rolled onto her back, aiming to crush the insect beneath her weight.

With her gloved hands, she reached over her shoulder, grabbing the wriggling creature. Its segmented body undulated violently in her grasp, its many legs scratching against the leather of her armor. Cedar clenched her teeth, suppressing a fresh wave of disgust as she pried the monstrous insect off.

Once the last of the centipede’s legs either detached or tore off, Cedar let out a primal scream and flung the writhing creature several yards away. She staggered back to her feet, barely catching her breath before the centipede jolted toward her again.

Instinctively, she lifted one heavy boot, thinking she could stomp it when it got close. At the same time, her hand reached for her sword, which unclasped easily and welcomed her grip.

The centipede skittered toward her on its many legs, dodging her boot as it slammed down beside it. Before it had time to resume its pursuit, Cedar swung her sword with precision, slicing the parasite clean in half.

She stood panting over her first Level Three dungeon kill, the creature’s two halves twitching in the muck.

“Good job,” Ari said, descending from his hover with maddening composure, his arms still crossed.

Cedar ignored him for the moment, her attention drawn to the ledge she’d fallen from. Thick ooze trickled down its face, pooling in a dark green puddle around her boots. Relief washed over her as she realized no additional creepy-crawlies lurked in the sickly soup—at least for now.

Still, something about the ledge unsettled her. Her eyes kept returning to it, her gut tightening as she studied it further.

“You’ll have to find another way out,” Ari said, reading her thoughts. “No turning back now.”

“That’s fine, but it’s freaking hot in here,” Cedar commented, snapping her sword back onto her belt. She adjusted her cloak, exposing her arm to the air. The uncovered skin had turned from pink to red, and when she touched it, she winced. It felt like she’d been sunburned in minutes.

“Keep the cloak on,” Ari advised. “It shields you from the heat.”

Cedar reluctantly dipped her shoulder back under the fabric, sighing in relief as the cooling effect kicked in.

“Anything else I should know?” she asked tersely, wrapping the cloak snugly around her body to cover any exposed skin.

“Nope,” Ari said with ease. “Just do your thang chicken wang.”

Cedar’s eyes swept the long dirt corridor ahead. Wide gaps carved into the walls revealed small alcoves without doors. Above each entry, satanic symbols were etched into the stone. The closest room bore the unmistakable “666” above its arch.

Unlatching her sword, she took a cautious step forward. “Can I have some of those magic balls?”

“You most certainly can.” Ari swung the bottomless backpack around, holding it open so she could fill her pockets with the orbs.

As she reached for them, Cedar glanced down at Ari’s feet. “You know, you really don’t need to hover anymore.”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “New boots.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“As is life.”

With her katana gripped tightly in one hand and a small, shimmering sphere of water in the other, Cedar moved low and slow toward the room marked with “666.” She peeked inside and saw only a gilded mirror sitting in the center of the otherwise empty chamber. Its ornate frame glinted faintly in the dim light, its surface rippling as though it were alive.

Curiosity piqued, Cedar stepped cautiously into the room for a closer look.

The moment her boots touched the floor, the ground rumbled beneath her. A massive stone slab slammed down behind her, sealing the exit with a deafening boom. Dust and bits of debris rained from the ceiling as the sheer weight of the blockade shook the room.

“Ari?” Cedar yelled, banging her fists against the solid rock. “Ari! Lift this thing—use your powers!”

“I’m here,” he called from the other side, his voice muffled but steady. “It’s okay. You’ll have to do this part on your own. I’m sorry, Seed.”

“Sorry for what?” Cedar shouted, banging on the slab again. Panic edged her voice. “Sorry for what? Ari? Ari!”

No answer.

The room grew eerily silent except for her ragged breaths. The darkness pressed in on her, broken only by the silver glow emanating from the mirror.

Cedar turned to face it, her heart pounding in her chest. She was seething with anger, her fists trembling at her sides.

She no longer had her protector.

Ari had lied to her.

Why would he do that? Cedar wondered. It doesn’t make sense. I would’ve done this by myself—he didn’t have to trick me. Did he actually trick me, or did he just not follow me in?

Thoughts churned as she turned to the mirror. It wasn’t reflective, as one would expect, but instead displayed swirling grey clouds amid a dusky sky. It resembled a static-laden television more than a proper looking glass. A haunting wail echoed from within.

Cedar stepped closer, gripping her sword tightly. Tentatively, she extended the tip of the blade, pushing it into the glass. The surface rippled like liquid, the membrane parting around the steel and revealing a glimpse of another world beyond.

Am I supposed to go in?

She looked around the sealed room. There were no doors, no cracks, no escape routes.

“Screw it.”

If she thought about it too long, she’d lose her nerve. Hoisting herself up onto the bottom frame of the immobile mirror, she crouched, leaned forward, and stuck her head through.

The swirling grey clouds solidified into crisp, three-dimensional shapes. What had been a two-dimensional illusion became a vivid, oppressive reality. A hot breeze stirred her hair as her eyes adjusted to the view below: a sprawling, hellish landscape that could have been torn straight from the Bible.

Fire and brimstone coated the cracked earth. Rivers of molten lava carved through the rubble like glowing veins, converging into a roaring lavafall that spilled endlessly into a chasm beyond her sight.

“Seriously?” Cedar muttered. “How am I supposed to . . . is there an escalator somewhere?”

She scanned the area, searching for any sign of a rope, staircase, or anything resembling a path down. She wasn’t on a ledge, a building, or even a mountain—she was floating mid-air within what seemed to be a portal.

The heat rose to greet her, oppressive and suffocating. Her face flushed as sweat began to bead on her forehead. Jerking her head back out of the mirror, she sucked in a sharp breath of cooler air.

“There’s no escalator, no way down. Am I supposed to jump?”

Years of MMORPG experience flooded her mind. In most games, dungeons were designed to test players, not outright kill them without a chance of survival. A leap of faith typically came with a safety net. Otherwise, the dungeon would become notorious and abandoned—pointless for the players and the game.

“There has to be a net down there.”

Glancing over her shoulder for a final look at the stagnant room, she gritted her teeth. With no better option, she dove headfirst into the mirror.

----------------------------------------

The descent was immediate. Cedar’s cloak snapped and rippled in the wind as she plunged through the oppressive heat. Ghastly wails pierced the air, growing louder as she fell. She arched her back, stabilizing herself mid-dive, her belly pointed toward the fiery terrain below. Her skydiving experience served her well—she dipped her right shoulder, steering herself toward a pool of liquid that shimmered amidst the rivers of lava.

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“I knew it,” she said, spotting the pool’s faintly inviting glow.

As she neared her target, she noticed something else: movement. Crawling across the scorched ground like lizards was a swarm of crimson-colored minions. Their thin, forked tails flicked menacingly, whipping the air as they scuttled on all fours.

Great, she thought, her heart sinking. Just what I needed—an audience of demon fleas.

The creatures clambered over one another, their glowing yellow eyes locked onto Cedar as she hurtled toward them. The air around her thickened, heavy with heat and the acrid stench of sulfur, but she clenched her jaw and stayed her course.

Cedar adjusted her posture mid-fall, angling to land feet-first into the viscous brine below. The liquid was thick as stew, sucking at her boots as they sank into the mushy bottom. She pushed off hard and swam upward in a single desperate breath, breaking the surface with a gasp.

Her matted hair clung to her face, tangled with clumps of writhing goop. Scraping it from her burning eyes, she felt a searing pain, sharp and relentless, as though stung by a swarm of jellyfish.

Just get to shore.

She fought her way through the stew-like pool, plucking the slimy creatures from her neck and shoulders with gloved hands. Her exposed skin blistered and popped, each boil sending shockwaves of pain through her. She couldn’t tell if it was the scalding heat of the air or the venomous sting of the goop monsters. Her vision began to blur as her hands moved frantically, brushing and pulling at the relentless slime.

Then, she remembered the magic balls Ari had given her.

With no time to plan, Cedar grabbed one from her pocket and smashed it against her forehead like a beer can. Ice-cold water exploded around her in a torrent, an avalanche of liquid that doused her burning skin and ripped away the goop in one swift blast. The intense force knocked her off her feet, leaving her gasping on the shore.

But the relief was fleeting. The water evaporated almost instantly, hissing into steam as the hellish heat consumed it. Cedar struggled to catch her breath, the oppressive atmosphere threatening to suffocate her. Summoning her training, she steadied herself, taking deep, rhythmic breaths until the panic began to subside.

Movement caught her eye.

Glowing yellow orbs blinked in the darkness, one pair after another appearing like stars in a sinister constellation. Cedar rose to her feet, unclasping her sword with a fluid motion. Her grip tightened as the minions advanced.

This is it, she thought. All the training—all the pain—was for this moment.

“Bring it,” she growled.

The first minion lunged, its teeth and claws scraping uselessly against her armor. Another followed, then another, but none of them could pierce the sturdy leather protecting her. Cedar’s confidence swelled as she realized they couldn’t harm her.

A natural rhythm took over, her movements guided by instinct. She swung her sword with precision, slicing through the soft, fleshy bodies of the creatures. One by one, they fell, their remains oozing onto the ground. The minions began to retreat, scuttling away as Cedar carved through their ranks.

But the retreat only fueled her fury.

A thirst for destruction surged through her veins. She wanted to kill them all—every last one. She lunged after the fleeing minions, her voice cutting through the chaos.

“There’s no place to run! You can’t get away!”

As she finished off another scuttling beast, her eyes flicked upward to follow the swarm. Her heart dropped.

A champion demon, fifty times the size of the minions, was barreling straight toward her. Its enormous body skidded along the ground, the impact shaking the earth beneath her feet.

Cedar didn’t hesitate. She pointed her sword at the beast and charged, her battle cry ripping through the air.

The demon responded with a lunge of its own, its massive tail whipping forward like a blade. Cedar dodged just in time, narrowly avoiding being impaled. Her confidence faltered, and she shifted her trajectory, sprinting in the opposite direction.

Dipping into her pocket, she grabbed a handful of magical orbs, wishing she had a slingshot or some kind of launcher. But her arm would have to do.

The beast bore down on her, closing the distance with terrifying speed. Its sliver-shaped pupils blinked once—eerily horizontal, without an upper lid. Cedar could feel the heat of its breath and smell the sulfur radiating from its open maw.

She hurled an orb with all her strength, hitting the demon’s side. It hissed as the spell activated, but the damage was superficial. Cedar readied another, her fingers trembling as the creature lashed its long, forked tongue in her direction.

The tongue struck her chest with brutal accuracy, its barbs sinking into her chest piece. Cedar gasped as the creature gave a mighty yank, pulling her off her feet and reeling her in.

With a magic orb in each hand, Cedar hurled them at the demon’s face, aiming for its glowing eyes. The orbs struck true, bursting in flashes of blue light. The beast roared in pain, its head jerking away from the bombardment. Seizing the opportunity, Cedar unsheathed her dagger and slashed through the slick, sticky tongue that bound her.

Freed from its grip, she stumbled backward as the severed tongue recoiled into the demon’s gaping maw, spewing blood in all directions like a wayward garden hose.

The sight fueled her bloodlust. Cedar gripped the long blade of her katana, narrowing her focus on the monster’s vulnerable eyes. She lunged forward, driving her sword deep into one of its sockets. The demon shrieked in agony, stumbling back as black ichor spilled down its face.

But Cedar wasn’t done.

With a feral cry, she leapt into the air, the heat rippling around her, and plunged her blade into the other eye. The demon thrashed wildly, blinded and helpless. Its massive pronged tail whipped in every direction, flattening smaller minions that scrambled to avoid its chaotic death throes.

Cedar landed a few feet away, her breath coming in heavy gasps, and watched in astonishment as the colossal beast flailed aimlessly. Did I just beat the hell dungeon? Am I done?

Her eyes darted around, scanning the desolate plateau for any sign of Ari. She strained her ears, hoping to hear his signature slow clap, but the air remained thick and silent, save for the hissing of molten rivers.

She stood alone on a flat, barren expanse. Rivers of lava snaked across the plateau, their molten currents carving blackened islands of cooled rock.

Movement caught her eye. A few minions, smaller and more skittish than the ones before, scrambled down the far side of the plateau, following the cascading lavafall as it disappeared into deeper crevices below.

With no other path in sight, Cedar followed them. She leapt over narrow streams of lava, swatting away any minions that ventured too close with a sharp swing of her katana. Most kept their distance, scuttling away as she approached.

As she reached the edge of the plateau, the intense heat of the lavafall surged toward her, choking her throat and stinging her eyes. Cedar pulled her cloak over the lower half of her face, breathing through the fabric to cool her scorched windpipe. The relief was immediate, though the air still burned faintly as it passed through her lungs.

Peering over the edge, she froze.

Hell unfolded before her, vast and unending. Rivers of molten lava cascaded into a jagged inferno below, their fiery currents weaving through valleys of craggy igneous rock. But it was the crosses—an infinite sea of them—that seized her attention.

Men and women were nailed to the crude wooden beams, their charred and blistered bodies writhing in agony. They moaned and screamed, their voices blending into a haunting symphony of despair. Skimpy, scorched loincloths barely covered their bodies, leaving their pain and vulnerability fully exposed.

Cedar’s stomach twisted as she looked from one tortured soul to the next. There were too many of them to count, their suffering stretched across peaks and valleys as far as the eye could see.

She glanced back toward the plateau, hoping for some sign of Ari, some signal that this wasn’t her only option. But the path behind her offered no escape. The choice was clear: down into the depths.

With a deep breath, Cedar steadied herself and began her descent, lowering her boots onto the brittle, crumbling rock.

The heat clawed at her skin, and her tongue scraped against the dry roof of her mouth. Her lips puckered with dehydration, her throat aching for water.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

As she climbed deeper, doubts began to creep in. What am I doing? she thought, pausing to adjust her grip on the rock. What if I fall and Ari’s not here to save me? Where is he?

Cedar’s grip tightened, her frustration mounting as the cries of the damned rose to meet her. The further she descended, the more she began to question not just Ari’s absence, but his teachings.

Trust. You have to trust. Cedar repeated the doctrine to herself, clinging to it like a lifeline.

She teetered on the edge of a troubling thought: What if I just let go? Falling wouldn’t be hard—just a brief, violent surrender to gravity. And maybe, just maybe, Ari would catch her. It would prove he was still there, watching over her, ready to intervene.

Is that something people do? she wondered. Fail on purpose just to gain attention or comfort? To have proof they’re not alone?

A wave of understanding washed over her. The pain of losing trust was far worse than any physical injury she could endure to feel it restored. Yes, people did fail on purpose, sometimes deliberately, sometimes through subconscious sabotage. The revelation stung, but it also rang true.

Shaking the thought aside, Cedar refocused all her energy on not slipping. The brittle rock beneath her boots crumbled with every step, threatening to give way. Sweat dried on her blistered skin, leaving streaks of salt crystals that glinted under the oppressive red glow of the lava rivers below.

Then, cutting through the symphony of wails and moans, a voice pierced the air.

“Help me. Please. Help me.”

The words were close enough to register clearly, distinct from the chorus of anguish around her. Cedar grunted as she shifted her weight onto one leg, straining to look over her shoulder.

On a neighboring igneous peak, a woman was nailed to a cross. The distance between them was daunting. To reach her, Cedar would have to descend her current path, traverse the lava-scarred terrain, and then climb the steep rock where the woman was bound.

A moral dilemma tugged at her. Do I help her?

The woman wasn’t real—not truly. She was a program, no more alive than the rubble under Cedar’s boots or the cross she hung from. Cedar frowned, Ari’s voice echoing in her mind: “They’re not much different from us. This is a deterministic universe anyway, so right now, everyone is pretty much an NPC.”

But she’s still a program, Cedar countered silently. And I can’t save them all.

The debate raged on in her mind as she began to descend the last stretch of her current path. Are we really so similar? I have sentience. I think, I choose—but am I really any different? Isn’t it all just a string of code, whether it’s mine or hers?

She reached a stable platform just below the peak. The woman’s voice, though distant now, still called to her with desperate, choked whimpers.

Ahead of her, Cedar spotted a dark path cutting into the mountain behind the cascading lava. It looked promising—like a way forward. Her instincts confirmed it was the next step in the dungeon’s design.

There’s more to this dungeon. But how much more?

She turned back, her gaze lingering on the woman far above. The decision weighed on her. If she chose to climb, it would cost her—energy she didn’t have, water she couldn’t replenish. Her body was already screaming for rest. But curiosity gnawed at her.

What if she knows something? What if she has a clue, a key to the dungeon’s secrets?

“Screw it,” Cedar muttered.

Ignoring the protests of her aching muscles, she began her ascent toward the woman’s perch. Hand over hand, she climbed the brittle, craggy rock. Her breath grew labored, each inhalation burning her parched throat.

Her muscles soon passed the point of aching—they felt flaccid, like empty sacks of flesh, drained of any strength to carry her onward. She paused frequently, her breaks stretching longer with each stop. The heat gnawed at her resolve, pricking at her exposed skin.

Her head throbbed with a relentless ache. Every pulse was a reminder of her dwindling stamina, her body desperate for hydration. Cedar pressed on, her veins constricting as her blood struggled to carry what little oxygen she could take in.

Halfway to the peak, her legs burned with pain, trembling under the strain of holding her weight. She wanted to collapse, to let them give out and drift into unconsciousness. But she couldn’t—she wouldn’t.

Gritting her teeth, Cedar tightened her grip on the rock face and forced herself to take another step, then another. I have to know. I have to finish this.

After a long five-minute break of controlled breathing and clenching her knees to promote blood flow, Cedar finally felt sensation return to her extremities. With a groan of effort, she resumed her climb.

At last, she reached the top, hauling herself over the ledge and collapsing onto her back. She pressed a gloved palm to her chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat as she closed her eyes to rest.

“Thank . . . you,” the woman simpered weakly.

Cedar ignored her for the moment. She was too spent to care. If ever there was a time for a nap, this was it.

“Thank . . . y . . .” The woman’s voice dissolved into a fit of coughing, ragged and wet.

With a begrudging sigh, Cedar sat up, dragging herself back to awareness. Her eyes fell on the figure nailed to the cross. The woman’s frail, pruned body hung limply, her long white hair fluttering in the occasional blasts of heat.

The woman’s wrists and feet were skewered to the massive cross with rusted spikes the size of railroad nails. Cedar’s gaze trailed down the colossal structure—it had to be at least fifteen feet tall, towering like a forgotten relic from some cruel past.

This may have been a mistake, Cedar thought grimly as she circled the base of the cross.

She grabbed hold of the wood and gave it a tug, grunting with effort. It didn’t budge.

“Please help me,” the woman croaked.

“I can’t,” Cedar admitted, panting. “It’s too heavy.”

The woman’s head lolled forward. “Kill me.”

Cedar froze. “Kill you?”

The woman’s head dipped ever so slightly, a barely perceptible nod.

“Was that a yes?” Cedar asked, narrowing her eyes. She unlatched her sword and glanced up at the woman’s pitiful form. Her conscience nagged her—shouldn’t she at least try to glean some information before ending this NPC’s suffering?

“Uh . . . do you, I mean, it’s hot in here, right? Do you know where I could maybe get a glass of water or something?” Cedar cringed at her own words, which felt more like Ari’s than her own. The pounding in her head made her wince. Am I turning into him?

“Sorry, I don’t mean any disrespect,” she added quickly.

“No water,” the woman rasped.

“Okay, that answers that.” Cedar gave her a small bow. “Thank you.”

A tense moment passed between them.

“How do you want me to do it?” Cedar asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Kill me. Please.”

Cedar glanced at the woman’s dangling feet, realizing that a quick stab to the heart or a clean slice to the throat wasn’t an option from her vantage point. Her mind raced for alternatives.

Then she remembered the magic orbs.

Dipping into her pocket, she retrieved an ice orb, its cool surface a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat around her.

“I’m going to throw this at you, okay?” she called up.

The woman’s head bowed again. Cedar couldn’t tell if it was a sign of agreement or if she had already passed.

“Okay. Here it comes.”

Cedar stepped back, aimed carefully, and lobbed the icy orb at the woman’s torso, the easiest target.

The orb shattered on impact, releasing an eruption of frost that consumed the entire cross. In an instant, the wooden structure turned a vibrant, frosty blue, encasing the woman in shimmering ice. A series of loud cracks followed as the frost seeped into the wood, fracturing it.

The cross began to sway, losing its solid foundation in the craggy rock.

“Whoa—no, no, no!” Cedar shouted as the massive structure listed dangerously. She rushed forward, bracing her shoulder against the frame to push it backward, ensuring it fell away from the woman. With a groaning creak, the icy cross tipped and crashed onto its back, shattering into jagged pieces of frost-covered wood.

Cedar stumbled backward, breathing heavily, as the dust and frost settled. She stepped toward the wreckage, unsure what to expect.

Lying atop the fractured planks was the frail woman, wet and trembling, but unmistakably alive.

“Oh my god, you’re still alive?” Cedar exclaimed.

The woman didn’t respond. Her body slid off the shattered remains of the cross, her movements slow but purposeful.

“Wait—stop!” Cedar shouted, moving toward her.

But before Cedar could reach her, the woman crawled to the edge of the peak and flung herself into the fiery abyss below.