As Zeke fell into the Pit, he regretted his life decisions.
It wasn’t difficult to see why, either. The Pit was less of a hole in the ground and more like the maw of some gargantuan creature. Teeth as large as buildings jutted from the edges, while something wet and squishy awaited down below. But at the moment, Zeke was far more disgusted by the smell, which was a mixture of rot, raw sewage, and hot garbage, which very nearly had him retching.
Still, he was committed. Even if he could have reversed course – which was impossible, considering he was in freefall – he wouldn’t have. He had made his decisions, and if nothing else, Zeke was a man of conviction. Once committed, he was not easily deterred from following his chosen path.
So, he fell, regretting his choices but wholly committed to seeing himself through.
The fall lasted far longer than it should have. He’d fallen a few thousand feet before, and it was over in less than thirty seconds. This time, he felt as if he was falling for hours. So, either the Pit was far deeper than his initial impressions suggested, or something else was at play. And considering the nature of the Pit, he suspected the latter.
Still, after what felt like a couple of hours, he thudded into something wet and gooey. He tried to rise, but to his horror, Zeke found himself stuck in place. And no matter how much he tried to escape his bindings, he couldn’t manage a single inch of movement.
Not on his own, at least.
Whatever he’d landed on had other ideas, though. Before long, Zeke felt himself drifting along on a river of sticky goo. There wasn’t enough light to see much more than a few impressions, but what he saw was so alien that he couldn’t understand what he was looking at.
So, he resolved to simply go along for the disgusting ride.
After an interminable amount of time, Zeke began to notice something troubling. He’d barely noticed it at first, but the sticky substance was also corrosive. When he’d first gotten stuck, it wasn’t enough to do more than tingle a little, but progressively, it had grown more powerful until he actually felt the pain of it.
That’s when panic started to sneak in.
He couldn’t move. He couldn’t escape. And he was slowly being dissolved.
However, the anxiety he felt at those realizations were nothing compared to what he experienced when the walls closed in on him. They were soft and gooey – almost fleshy – but they were undeniably powerful. And as they closed around him, Zeke’s panic began to spike.
It only got worse from there.
Before long, he couldn’t even breathe, those fleshy confines were so tight. He certainly couldn’t move.
He’d never been particularly claustrophobic, and if he had been, his time in the troll caves would have forced him to learn to live with that fear. However, what he experienced as the life was slowly crushed out of him was something new. Something worse than any claustrophobia he could ever have imagined. It was more than just discomfort or fear. It was a feeling of helplessness that felt wholly alien to the man he had become.
It was maddening, and with every passing second, he told himself that it couldn’t last forever. What he didn’t acknowledge was that the descent through the Pit was never intended to be short or easy. There was every chance that it could last for all eternity. That would be fitting, given he’d started in Hell.
What made it even worse was that the few skills he still had available were completely out of reach. Something had blocked them, and no matter how much he railed against the restrictions, he couldn’t make a dent in his prison.
So, he endured, going progressively madder with every passing moment.
Then, after what could have been hours, minutes, or years, Zeke suddenly broke free. Once again, he was falling. However, this descent was much shorter than his first, and soon plopped down into a pool of liquid.
In his shocked state, it took him a few moments to recognize that he was being eaten alive by a powerful acid. His metallic form and vaunted attributes were no match for the corrosion, and [Hand of Divinity] remained out of reach. He splashed around for a moment, eventually choosing a direction at random.
He swam, his metallic flesh sloughing off with every motion.
Fortunately, he only had to swim for a few minutes, and for the first time, his incredibly high endurance and resistances proved their worth. Even so, by the time he reached a fleshy beach, he was missing more than half his mass. His titanic form didn’t have organs, per se. It was just a mass of metallic flesh and silvery blood, which was lucky. If he’d been in his natural form, he would have had much more pressing issues. As it was, he struggled to drag himself ashore, and once he was safe, he just lay there for some indeterminate amount of time.
Eventually, though, Zeke knew he needed to move on. So, he arduously pushed himself to his feet and looked around. As had been the case since a few minutes into his fall, he could see almost nothing. However, in the distance, he saw a slightly lighter area that suggested a direction he was meant to go.
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Without any other options, he trekked toward it, his feet squishing against the disgustingly soft ground. Fortunately, the acid was only vaguely corrosive, which his durable body had no trouble enduring.
The light slowly grew stronger, and, by the step, Zeke grew progressively more confident that he’d chosen the proper direction. However, it was much further away than he’d hoped, and once again, time became meaningless. His featureless surroundings gave him no context, and for some reason, he lacked the ability to keep track of how long he’d been walking.
All he knew was that he needed to keep going.
So, that was what he did. One squishy step at a time, he closed in on the light. And eventually, he arrived at a door. Without hesitation, Zeke pushed through, ducking so that he could pass the threshold.
He blinked.
Suddenly, his mind was much clearer, and he realized that he’d just experienced something on par with being digested. He’d fallen through the maw, then was pushed down the thing’s esophagus, only to end in the thing’s acidic stomach. He could only hope that the journey ended there, because he certainly didn’t want to keep going through an enormous creature’s digestive tract.
“So gross,” he tried to say, though no words would emerge from his throat. He attempted to speak again, but still, nothing happened. It took him a few moments to recognize that the mechanisms for speech still worked properly, but something magical prevented any sound from traveling through the air.
Shaking his head, Zeke took stock of his situation. Surprisingly, the ground was no longer squishy, and instead looked like stone pavers. Otherwise, there was nothing noteworthy about his surroundings.
He continued forward, walking for another three or four hours until, at last, something changed.
It happened without warning, and suddenly, Zeke was aware that someone was beside him. He didn’t know if he saw them out of the corner of his eye or his awareness was the result of some sixth sense. Whatever the case, when he turned, he saw a young woman.
Except that she was at least twenty feet taller than him, and her feet were floating a half dozen feet off the ground. She wore a simple, white, and flimsy robe, and she never once acknowledged his presence. Instead, she drifted forward, heedless of her surroundings. Even when Zeke planted himself in front of her and started jumping up and down, she didn’t even blink.
Then, she passed through him.
Suddenly, Zeke was colder than he’d ever been in his entire life, and instinctively, he knew that it wasn’t the result of temperature. He’d lost something when the woman touched him. Something invaluable and irreplaceable.
He shivered.
By the time he recovered, the woman had progressed another fifty feet. Towards what, he couldn’t know, and she certainly wasn’t going to tell him. So, marshalling his fortitude, he continued his trek, soon passing the woman and leaving her far behind. His footsteps might have been a bit quicker than normal, though he never would have admitted that he was frightened.
Soon enough, he found another floating figure, though this one was male. He wore an identical robe, and he was similarly unresponsive. Zeke knew better than to stand in his way.
After that, Zeke saw hundreds of others as he progressed through the area. He proceeded for hours, and as seemed to be the theme, those hours soon turned to days. He once again lost track of time as he followed the endless procession of floating people. It wasn’t until, some indeterminate time later, that he realized what it was.
They were disembodied souls.
In retrospect, he should have felt it. Certainly, once he’d come to the realization, he could feel it. It was unmistakable for anything else.
Once again, Zeke trembled. Not in fear. Certainly not that. He was just uncomfortable.
Regardless, there was only one way to go, so he continued on, passing hundreds more souls along the way. Some were old. Others were distressingly young. None of them even saw him, they were so intent on their destination. Perhaps to them, he didn’t even exist.
Never had Zeke felt more like an interloper than at that moment. He desperately wanted to turn back, to go home and usher the Crimson Tower to supremacy. He might have done just that if he wasn’t so committed to the task at hand. He’d barely taken the first step in his descent, and he would not be dissuaded by a little discomfort.
So, on he went.
Step by step, hour by hour, time and distance lost all meaning. Yet, he knew he was making progress, if only because he kept passing disembodied souls. Every now and again, he would pass his hand through them, just so he could feel something other than the walking.
It never ended well.
But it was different, which was all he really cared about in those moments.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, things changed. Suddenly, a giant gate loomed in the distance. It was the size of a skyscraper and far more intimidating. It felt like a living thing filled with anger and hate, and when Zeke looked upon it, he couldn’t help but stop in his tracks. He even took a step backward.
A laugh echoed, assailing his ears and shaming him.
With renewed conviction, Zeke forced himself to step forward. Another step followed the first, and before long, he was striding toward the gate with regained vigor. The laughter never returned, but eventually, Zeke saw a figure standing before the giant gate. That shape resolved itself into a knight wearing black armor and wielding an enormous sword.
As Zeke drew closer, he saw that the knight wore no helmet. Instead, its head was a horned skull, and its sword shimmered with red energy that, to Zeke, felt incredibly similar.
“I offer you a deal, mortal,” the knight declared. His voice was a force of nature, and it hit Zeke like a hammer blow. Still, he’d experienced worse, so he remained steadfast before the weight of the knight’s voice. “I suggest you take it. Surrender now, and I will take your life. You will then proceed to be judged like any other soul. If you are righteous, perhaps you will know peace. If not, then you will exist in torment for all eternity. Choose not to surrender, and I will ensure that the fate awaiting you is the latter. A special circle of hell is reserved for trespassers and –”
“And if I resist? If I defeat you?”
“You are mortal. You will fail. You will fall. And you will suffer until time ceases to exist.”
“I disagree,” Zeke said, reaching into his spatial storage. Until that moment, he probably would have said it wouldn’t work. The rest of the Crimson Tower’s features were locked away, after all. But the hammer came, and Zeke readied himself for battle.
For his part, the knight briefly seemed disappointed. But then, he hefted his sword, which burst into green flames.
“You will regret this,” he said.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Zeke acknowledged.
Then, he stepped forward. The knight did the same, putting them on a collision course from which neither could veer away.