The devastated central hub within the Mechanist’s lair was backlit by the dirty flame coming from a huge ball of scrap. Light danced about the jagged remains of mighty steel platforms, making the space appear like the mouth of a monstrous beast. Mickie needed to clamber up this mouth to reach the shadowed ceiling far above. Hopefully one of the tunnels up there would take him straight to the exit of the palace, and he could leave this terrible tower behind. Taking a slow step out onto what remained of his level’s platform Mickie examined the distance to the next floor up. The tunnels themselves were about four to five meters tall, and with the platform being set a distance above, he estimated a climb of about six meters per level.

Examining the pitted and scarred walls of the chamber, the solution to his problem presented itself a short walk away. Moving carefully along a path of bent metal Mickie soon reached an edge leading to open air. It appeared that some giant piece of shrapnel had slammed into both the platform and the wall behind it, rending a scar in the metal that revealed a mess of cabling and warped structural framework. The tear cut through multiple levels of the hub, ending at a tunnel entrance three platforms higher. With no other options, Mickie quickly took to scaling the innards of the wall. Instead of using recently healed right arm to climb, he wrapped it about his final explosive. While unwilling to leave the explosive device behind, Mickie had lobbed his burning hunk of metal into the pit below. It had saddened him to ditch the light source, but he did not want to risk holding it close to the bomb while climbing.

Making the climb with a single arm should have been far more challenging than it ended up being. His weird demon body proved more than up for the task, however. Soon Mickie was clambering over the lip of the tunnel above where it met the scar in the wall. He pulled himself into the large hole and was met by the smoking remains of a beetle in the entrance. Poor hauler must have dragged itself along to the edge before it gave out for good. Beyond the ruined construct Mickie could make out a line of the creatures, stretching into the dark. Looking once more at the number of tunnels in the chamber he marvelled at thought of them all having a queue like this. It was like he and Miz-Mag had shattered the heart of the Mechanist’s operations; nothing could flow through these tunnels anymore. Hopefully these beetles would be as essential to the castle as blood was to a body. If the denizens of this monstrosity were kept busy dealing with the fallout of the explosion, they might not notice him slipping by.

A cursory examination of the level he now occupied revealed no easy climbing spots. The walls were still a ruin of pitted metal, but there were no useful rends in them like the one he had just ascended. It appeared the climb would only be getting harder from here on out. Mickie stood to shuffle along the remains of the platform to a suitably damaged portion of steel when a squeaking voice suddenly came from his shoulder.

‘Holy shit kid.’

Miz-Mag had returned from its rest and was staring dumbfounded at the damage they had wrought.

‘You know, I’ve never really been able to do much. Too small you see, built for hiding and all that. I never even thought something like this would be possible. We killed the damned Mechanist.’

The tiny creature seemed in awe, it let loose a disbelieving laugh.

‘The Mechanist just is kid. An ant doesn’t kill the boot when it falls.’

Mickie turned an eye to the demon and gave a grin.

‘I’m sure an ant could manage if it had the volume of explosives that we did.’

‘I’d say.’

As he turned back towards the busted wall Miz-Mag seemed to note the cargo he carried.

‘My dear boy, how do you even still have one of those bombs, and for that matter, where has your shirt gone.’

Mickie hefted his remaining explosive as they continued towards a promising climbing spot.

‘Well, I used it to cover up a bomb to take out the machines.’

‘And I assume it worked?’

‘For the most part, I took out most of the horde with the blast and shot the rest before slipping away.’

‘Lovely work my friend. So, you were home free after that?’

Mickie shrugged the should without a demon on it.

‘For the most part. Mechanist managed track me down.’

The squeaky exclamation Miz-Mag gave, necessitated a longer explanation on his part. Having reached the best climbing spot on the wall, Mickie ran through the events as best he could while clambering up. Without easy access to the internals of the chamber he was required to use sharp metal for handholds. Mickie finally reached the next level with hands aching from numerous cuts, puffed from the climb and his explanation.

‘I get having the bomb is good and all kid, but surely it would be easier to climb without it.’

Mickie wiped the blood from a slice on his palm off on his pants.

‘We still need to make it out of the palace itself after this. I’m not going to leave such a useful tool behind.’

Miz-Mag protested no further as they found another spot to climb and continued onwards. As the pair clambered ever higher in the chamber the difficulty grew, the wall’s condition gradually improving with distance from the blast. Eventually they reached an impasse a few levels before the ceiling. The platform above was the most intact yet, and Mickie could see no easy spots where damage opened a path past it. If the duo wanted to climb further, they would have to deal with an overhang of warped metal. Miz-Mag appeared to agree with his assessment.

‘Well, my good man, looks like it’s going to be the long way around from here.’

With a sniff Mickie turned to the best possible spot for a climb.

‘Not quite yet. Who knows where these tunnels will take us, and I don’t want to give the demons time to reorganise after the damage we did. We need to hit them when they’re distracted.’

‘Well sure, that’s nice and all, but it doesn’t change the fact you aren’t climbing up top with that bomb.’

He gave the demon a look that had the creature narrowing its eyes in suspicion.

‘Well then I won’t climb with it.’

Miz-Mag made a serious racket when Mickie threw it onto the next level, cursing loudly as it clung to the steel floor. It turned out the demon was not entirely willing to go through with his idea, so Mickie had just moved ahead with it anyway. He didn’t get what the problem was, if anything happened Miz-Mag could just pull its vanishing act and be fine. When he next lobbed the bomb towards the little fiend, the cursing died out for a few moments. The cylindrical explosive landed flat on the platform and immediately started rolling for the edge. His companion hurried to hurls its tiny body before the object, and like Sisyphus with his bolder, push the bomb up the sloped platform. With both hands-free Mickie found the climb almost comically easy. The spot he selected for his climb had fewer handholds, though the reduced overhang from the damaged metal above made up for it. Within a minute he was pulling himself onto the platform, just as Miz-Mag got the explosive to a safe spot.

‘Damn crazy kid. You sure you aren’t a demon yourself?’

Mickie scooped up his companion and the bomb.

‘Not a chance. Don’t even have horns.’

Examining this level, Mickie could not believe his own luck. On the other side of the ruined platform was a massive chuck of metal debris. It half hung out of a tunnel, wedge into the metal above to provide a serviceable ramp up. The pair picked their way over and Mickie slowly clambered up the steep incline until he had reached one of the highest floors in the chamber. Looking up, it seemed that their days of easy climbing were over. Above them were another two platforms, damaged but not unreasonably so when compared to the first few they had past.

‘Surely you aren’t thinking on trying for those, kid.’

Mickie shook his head.

‘No, even if I lobbed you and the bomb up, I’m not sure I could make the climb.’

His companion breathed a sigh of relief as they turned towards the dark of the tunnel. This passage into darkness was one of a few scattered around the platform they had just reached. In the same manner as each of the entrances they had past during the long climb up, this one had a queue of beetles waiting. The hauling robots seemed to be in a far better condition up this high compared to their ragged brethren down below.

‘Thoughts on this tunnel?’

Miz-Mag only gave a shrug in response. As Mickie had no real way of distinguishing between the paths either, he figured this one was as good as any other. The duo walked from the light of the Mechanist’s central hub and into the dark once more.

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

It could only have been at most half an hour since Mickie and Miz-Mag moved into the dark tunnel. Mickie had managed to stumble into the stationary beetles twice so far, and now walked with a hand to one of the walls to avoid further mishaps. The black was total, and the lack of any activity outside his own bumbling attempts to navigate the passage was setting Mickie on edge. He felt like they were walking up a gentle slope, but it was hard to confirm without seeing the passage under his feet. Miz-Mag had been telling him of its own mission while they walked. How the demon could so thoroughly embellish a story about sneaking past some robots and setting off a bomb he did not know. His companion however, had managed to fill a fair chunk of the walk so far with its bombastic retelling. So when the critter finally shut up for a handful of seconds Mickie was almost concerned.

‘Would you look at that. My friend, I believe I see light up ahead.’

Never had such a squeaky voice been so soothing to Mickie’s ears. He immediately picked up the pace, hand bouncing along the wall as he jogged onwards. It was not altogether long before he could make out the faint glow as well, seeming to come from a branching tunnel to the right. Following the new passage, the pair soon found themselves exiting the tunnel network and entering a small warehouse. The metal path of the tunnel ended in a loading dock, a step making it easy for the beetles to be unloaded on arrival. Currently the dock appeared empty, no beetles at rest and no workers scurrying about to handle cargo. As Mickie vaulted the dock wall, he noted a number of crates and boxes stacked in rows by the far wall, though not nearly enough to fill the space. The room felt almost cramped compared to the scale of what he had seen from the Mechanist so far. Looking about, he thought the general décor was less in line with the Mechanist as well. The floor was a grey concrete instead of dark metal, and the walls were similar. Only the large lights dangling from ceiling supports really matched the metal monster’s style.

Moving over to a crate, Mickie attempted to prise the top off. Not having any luck he summoned his gun and turned an eye to Miz-Mag. The demon nodded eagerly at his silent question. Before Mickie was able to make use of his explosive box opener, there was the sounds of footsteps from nearby. Cursing inwardly he attempted to find a place to hide. While he did intend to wreak some havoc through the upper levels it would be nice to get the lay of the land before he got started. With not easy spots to duck behind he swiftly unsummoned his gun, stashed the bomb between two crates, and began to climb the one of the orderly rows. He had just made it over the top when a pair of figures walked by the end of his row. Mickie caught a glimpse of an imp, squat and red like the ones he had seen in Administration. Besides the imp was a figure that was shocking in its familiarity. Shorter than him at a guess, and with long hair as dark as his own. It was another human. Without stopping to think if he would be detected, Mickie set off along his row of crates.

‘Kid what are you doing? You really don’t want to let them know we’re here yet.’

Miz-Mag was ignored as he approached the end of his row. From nearby a pair of voices started chatting in heated tones. It had appeared the human and imp had stopped amongst the crates nearby, allowing him to overhear the conversation.

‘Alright mortal, I need a full stock take of this storage room by weeks end. I don’t want to see you until you bring me that list.’

There was a muttered reply that Mickie couldn’t make out, followed by the sound of skin hitting flesh. He winced at the sharpness of it.

‘Do not test me right now human. Something has happened to the Mechanist, there have been no deliveries since that explosion shook the palace. We will be prepared. I will not fail the Palace Lord due to your incompetence.’

After a brief pause, footsteps sounded again, and Mickie ducked out of sight as the imp moved towards a distant set of doors. He remained still until well after the imp had left, expecting to hear the sounds of crates being opened to have their contents checked. Instead, there were some quiet mutterings before silence descended on the warehouse. Mickie remained still for almost a minute before his self-control faltered. He was sure that had been another human down there, and he couldn’t resist passing up the opportunity for a conversation. With as much care as he could manage, Mickie lowered himself to the floor. He had expected Miz-Mag to kick up a fuss, but the demon seemed to have realised he was not going to listen. It leapt from his shoulder and stalked away as Mickie moved to the end of his row.

Peeking into the area he had heard the demon issuing commands, he found the human. They were not even attempting to look busy, leaning against a stack of boxes while staring out into the dark of the tunnel. As he had noted before they had lengthy dark hair, hanging over threadbare garb of a similar make to Mickies own. A puff of smoke dissipated into the air before the figure as Mickie stepped slowly into the row they occupied. He was moving quietly, unsure how to make himself known without terrifying his fellow human. As it turned out, Mickie was not as silent as he had first thought, and as he took a step forward the figure whipped around in a blur. It was a woman, bordering on the far edge of her middle years and stocky from a life of work. A cigarette dangled from her lips, trailing smoke past gradually widening eyes coloured a deep brown.

‘Holy shit. Thought I heard a rat, but you look more like yesterday’s breakfast.’

Mickie didn’t reply immediately, instead drinking in the existence of another human in this desolate place. His eyes fell on the cigarette and narrowed in surprise, how had anyone gotten a hold of a luxury like that in Hell? The women caught his attention and her eyes narrowed, she swiftly drew the cigarette from her lips and put it out against a crate. As the remainder went into a pocket Mickie caught a flash of sharp metal in her other hand.

‘You mute or something? What do you want?’

Honestly if Mickie had to describe the women from an initial glance, he would have said motherly. Her tone and the sharp object she concealed spoke otherwise, however. He felt more like he was about to get mugged than anything else.

‘Nothing I…’

He swallowed.

‘I just got here. Been a while since I’ve seen a friendly face is all.’

The woman gave him an incredulous look.

‘Just got here? Go see your task master then, don’t talk to me.’

Then to Mickie’s surprise she turned her back on him.

‘And put on some decent rags before someone important catches sight of you.’

The dismissal left him stunned. While he had been not sure what to expect from meeting a fellow human in Hell, it sure wasn’t this. Mickie was not one to be dissuaded however, and quickly followed the retreating woman.

‘Look lady, I just got up here. I’ve had a rough few days, and I just want to get the lay of the land from someone.’

Before him the woman stopped. Hoping he had gotten through to her, Mickie closed to a couple of meters. She suddenly spun about, and Mickie caught a shiny gleam from her hand before reacting in kind. As the lady finished her turn he had his gun summoned, held low as to not be overtly threatening. The pair noted each other’s weapons, Mickie’s gun, and the woman’s metal shiv. The lady gawped at his gun before looking up at him.

‘What in the nine circles is that?’

She took a step away from him and Mickie let loose a weary sigh. With a flick of the wrist, he dismissed the weapon and raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture.

‘Like I said, I just got here. I just want to talk.’

There was a tense moment as she stared him down. If anything, his strange display seemed to have put her more on edge than before. So, it was to his surprise when, with a practised flick of the wrist, the shiv vanished and she leant up against the nearby crates with folded arms.

‘Well one thing’s for sure. You are not normal. If you want to talk, fine, we’ll talk, but you got to answer some questions first.’

Mickie had to stifle a grin. Sure, he wanted some answers of his own, but something told him that even getting this much from the woman was a win. Mirroring her pose against the crates he cut to the chase.

‘Alright, name’s Mickie. Happy to oblige.’

‘Aria. First up, what was that monstrous weapon you pulled from thin air?’

An expected first question for sure.

‘It’s my gun, got it through a deal with a demon when I first arrived.’

At the mention of a deal Aria inhaled a sharp breath.

‘A deal? Are you some kind of idiot? How are you even walking free right now?’

Mickie frowned.

‘It wasn’t like I had much of a choice at the time. Massive stinking bug monster was about to eat me. As for walking free, why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You should be little more than a subservient wreck right now if you cut a deal. Demons only bargain for one thing, and that’s a soul.’

The middle-aged woman was getting worked up, moving away from the crates to pace the isle. Mickie was tempted to find Miz-Mag and put the blighter to the question. That little demon better not have hold of his soul. Keeping his gaze on Aria however, he thought over what she had said and tied in some rough conjecture of his own. The woman had mentioned subservience, as if those who made a deal were always bound to obey. While Mickie had to climb or die, he was not a complete slave to Miz-Mag’s will. This very conversation was an example of an action contrary to the demon’s wishes. There was also the fact he never recalled handing over his soul, he was sure that was something that would at the very least be noticeable.

‘Well, I don’t remember my soul being part of the bargain. Honestly, I’m beginning to think the demon I cut a deal with is a bit of a weirdo.’

A tiny red head poked around a crate followed by a hand forming a rude gesture. Aria seemed to be having trouble believing him.

‘Demons don’t make deals like that.’

She let loose a frustrated sigh.

‘You know what, fine, okay. Let’s just move on. If you just got here, how are you already separated from you taskmaster?’

Mickie hummed, he felt like she wasn’t getting his point on that.

‘I’m not with my task master because I never had one in the first place. When I said I just got here I didn’t mean the palace, I was talking about Hell itself.’

Now Aria just looked befuddled. Mickie hurriedly continued.

‘It would have been a few days back, at least I think it’s been days. Anyway, I woke up in prison at the bottom of the palace, I think it was called the Evergaol. I’ve been climbing up ever since.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

There was an extended moment in which the women did not reply. She simply stared at him in disbelief before straightening seriously.

‘Show me the mark of your deal.’

‘I’m sorry?’

The demand immediately put Mickie on edge. It reminded him a bit too much of Mammon’s forceful request out on the ice. Even if this time the words were not accompanied by some weird impulsion that made him obey.

‘You have said a so many unbelievable things to me, that I am almost inclined to believe you. Everyone down here is usually more cunning with their lies.’

She gave him a hard look.

‘But I need something substantive. Pacts tend to come with stipulations about revealing brands. If you can freely show me the brand, this whole deal story might have some truth to it.’

Mickie hesitated. He noted that nearby Miz-Mag was sulking with its back to him. If he revealed his brand, it would be his choice alone. Taking a deep breath, Mickie held out his right hand out for the woman to inspect. Aria took a step closer and examined the scar shaped into three animals chasing one another. Her eyes roved their shapes and came to rest on the strange character positioned at the top.

‘Well?’

It had been long enough that Mickie began to grow impatient. Aria looked up from his, deflating.

‘That’s a brand alright. Between that and the gun I suppose it makes some of what you’re saying believable.’

For some reason Mickie was almost disappointed in the reaction. When Mammon and the Mechanist both saw the three animals, they had completely freaked out.

‘You don’t recognize the mark?’

Aria chuckled.

‘Nope, I know those of a few demons from memory, the big players mostly. Most big houses have a single baseline symbol with variations depending on the demon. This one doesn’t match any I can recall.’

That was strange. From what Mickie had gathered so far, his symbol had something to do with a demon called the Soul Lord. Both Mammon and the Mechanist had mentioned the being. However, if each demon had a brand but some were similar depending on affiliation, did that mean Miz-Mag was related to this Soul Lord somehow? The conversation appeared to have garnered the attention of his companion, the diminutive fiend peering at them with a furrowed brow. Aria fished around in her pockets and withdrew the cigarette she had hidden away earlier. Then, to Mickie’s surprise, she also revealed a metal lighter, sparking the blackened tip of the tobacco to life before taking a puff. He supposed if Hell had electrical lights and air conditioning it would have lighters too. Whatever had happened to the realm of fire and brimstone he had heard about while alive?

‘Gave it up when I was alive you know.’

Aria had noticed his interest. She blew out a slow cloud and continued.

‘But after a while down here I figured I’m dead anyway, so there’s no real point in holding back.’

Another puff followed.

‘So, you remember dying right?’

Mickie grimaced.

‘Sure do.’

‘And next thing you know you were in the Evergoal?’

He nodded; unsure what Aria was driving at.

‘Simply put, that should not be possible.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Because everyone whp winds up down here arrives at the gates of Hell, up in Limbo. The demons scoop us up there.’

She took a gentle pull on the cigarette. Mickie frowned in confusion.

‘So why did I end up all the way down the bottom?’

Aria barked out a laugh.

‘How should I know. Honestly that’s not even the craziest part. The fact you even managed to get up here intact is what I don’t get.’

Mickie looked down at his ragged appearance. His body was coated in blood and machine oil, pants hardly more than a loincloth after the abuse they had received.

‘I’d hardly say intact. I wouldn’t call the journey up exactly easy.’

‘I’ll say, whose blood is that?’

‘All mine I think, only had to blast machines since I last washed.’

The women gaped slack jawed.

‘All yours! How are you even conscious?’

‘Got some kind off demon power in the deal. Keeps me on my feet for the most part.’

Aria released an incredulous laugh, a genuine sounding deep belly rumble that made Mickie smile.

‘Honestly, if I didn’t have an idea what waited down in the lower palace, there is no way I would believe you. The Mechanist though.’

There was an extended moment of silence as the women paused to think.

‘Wait, you mentioned machines. Does that mean you know what happened to the Mechanist? The bag of bolts went silent after the palace shook a while back. No more deliveries or anything. It’s sending the imps up here into a frenzy.’

Mickie’s smile faltered. While he was glad the evil machine was gone, he did not like to recall their time together.

‘I was what happened to the Mechanist. Well, me and the demon I made a deal with.’

It took quite some time for Aria to respond to that. She simply stood stock still, staring at him like he was an alien from another planet. Curious as to how his partner was taking the admission, Mickie looked about for Miz-Mag, but the demon was nowhere to be found.

‘You? But how?’

‘Found some explosives, set them off right in the robot’s main chamber.’

‘And the Mechanist?’

‘Dead as far as I can tell. All the robots went ballistic afterwards too.’

He paused.

‘Except the beetles. They’re still chill.’

Aria closed her eyes and took a huge pull from her cigarette, burning it right to her lips. Knowing he had probably dumped quite a bit on the woman, Mickie remained silent. The charred remnants of tobacco were plucked from between her lips and squashed against a crate. Aria breathed out one final cloud of smoke as she pocketed the stub.

‘Alright. While most of this still sounds insane to me, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I just have one final question for you.’

‘Shoot.’

‘Why are you climbing up the palace? Surely it would have been easier just to find a place to hide.’

Mickie opened his mouth to explain about the deal but hesitated. While displaying the mark was one thing, elaborating on the terms of the deal felt far riskier. So, he went for a half-truth instead.

‘I plan on leaving Hell. Heading back to the land of the living.’

Aria raised her eyebrows.

‘Honestly, why am I not surprised?’

Without the context of the deal, he had thought the woman would scoff at the suggestion of escaping. Instead, she seemed thoughtful.

‘How? The gates to hell are one way. They’re not really gates as much as they are a drop of point for the newly dead.’

That brought a crease to Mickie’s eyebrows. It was a thought he hadn’t had up to this point. For some reason, he assumed if Miz-Mag wanted to leave Hell bad enough to make a deal, then it had to be possible to do so.

‘Are you sure? Has anyone actually tried?’

Aria rolled her eyes.

‘Of course they have. The gates to Hell don’t open.’

With a thoughtful hum Mickie mulled over this. It would kind of suck to make it all the way to the top of Hell just to discover he there was no way out. Then he realised if he managed to make it that far it would probably be enough of a miracle that the gates might just pop right open to let him through.

‘I’ll figure it out when I get there.’

That got an amused noise from the older woman. For some reason that irritated Mickie.

‘Look, I know my odds are slim. But what are the alternatives? I sit in a corner for all eternity and sulk? Or maybe I serve myself up to the demons and become a slave? No. Its all or nothing for me.’

The words felt right as Mickie spoke them. It had only been recently that his doubts had gotten the better of him. Out on the ice he had folded under the weight of his experiences and circumstance. Seeing the mine had filled him with new purpose, however. It was not only anger on behalf of the people reduced to a material for the demon’s. No, he realised belatedly, it was that he didn’t want to wind up like them, buried out in the cold once his usefulness was up. Even if Mickie failed to climb free, he would make sure the twisted denizens of this realm understood he had never submitted to despair.

‘Well, not all of us can call a gun from thin air. Most of us sorry folk simply get peeled alive if we do anything but serve.’

It was an icy retort that broke Mickie from his introspection. Aria was giving him a cold look, eyebrows furrowed. Realising that what he had said probably sounded like a jab to the woman, Mickie hurried to apologise.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be a dig or anything. I just.’

He sighed.

‘I suppose I just have a chance here you know? With the gun and the deal. I need to make sure I take it.’

Aria gradually softened as he spoke.

‘I get it. Its not like everyone down here doesn’t dream of escape. I know I did.’

‘Did?’

‘I’ve been down here for a while. Eventually they beat the hope right out of you.’

She deflated with a breath, the gave a light chuckle.

‘Though I doubt you’ll last long enough for that to be a problem.’

Mickie grinned.

‘That’s the general idea. Go big or go home.’

With her last question answered Aria seemed to think their time talking was up. She moved past Mickie, heading for the exit of the warehouse.

‘Hey!’

He called after her.

‘I get you finished your questions, but I still need to get some information about the area from you.’

The woman turned to him.

‘And you will. I’ll even do you one better and get you a disguise.’

She looked the suddenly tense Mickie over.

‘You had better come with. We’ll need to get that filth off you first.’

Then she continued walking, without even a backwards glance. Unsure what else to do, Mickie hurried to catch up.

‘Hold on. We’re just leaving? Didn’t you have a job to do here?’

Aria threw him a grin.

‘Good trick with demons. They don’t expect a lot from humans so it’s easy to slack off. I always take ages to do stock counts, so my task master has come to expect them to take a while.’

Looking at the stacks of crates Mickie thought the angry imp had been onto something when it had assigned multiple days of work.

‘How does this all not take days?’

‘Another trick. One thing the Mechanist is good for. Well, I suppose was good for. The bag of bolts was always exact with volumes and numbers. Never even heard of a case where a delivery has been out.’

They reached the doors and Aria paused to finish speaking.

‘So, for a dark steel warehouse like this there are always exactly forty eight ingots per box. We have nine rows nine boxes high and eighteen deep. Accounting for the 36 additional boxes on the end it’s seventy-one thousand, seven-hundred and twelve ingots.’

The woman recited the maths as if from a script.

‘Wow. Okay.’

Aria chuckled.

‘I used to be a professor once upon a time. While crates are not as interesting as quantum particles, I do still enjoy the flow of numbers.’

She straightened up.

‘Now. No more questions. We need to move.’

Mickie stood to attention as she continued.

‘Outside is a service tunnel connecting to several warehouses. Not the busiest place, but there is usually some foot traffic. A way up the hall is an old secret passage that no one really uses. That is our goal. I’ll check the coast is clear then we’ll move.’

‘Alright. I’m ready.’

A tense few moments past as Aria peeked into the hall before swiftly closing the door. She put a finger to her lips and waited. There was the faint sounds of footsteps from outside. Once the noise faded, the hall was checked again and deemed safe. Aria pushed the door wide and waved to Mickie, the pair stepping out into a large tunnel lit by fluorescence tubes. They set off at a run down the passage, the gore spattered young man following the middle-aged woman. Double doors like the one they had exited were spaced at regular intervals along unadorned walls. Above each door were metal plates, etched with numbers that climbed upwards as they covered more distance.

Mickie idly realised that he had left Miz-Mag behind in the warehouse. It was not a big deal, the demon could always do its disappearing act and reappear at his side later. Then Mickie recalled the bomb he had hidden amongst the stacks and almost turned back around on the spot. How had he managed to forget that? Looking up at the frantic Aria he realised that his guide might not be willing to assist twice if he suddenly turned around and ran away. He gritted his teeth in frustration, breathing hard through the nose as they ran on. He would have go back for the device later, it should hopefully be straightforward if the disguise he had been promised held up.

It was a surprise when Aria came to abrupt holt by an unassuming section of wall between two doors. Mickie almost slammed right into his guide, skidding past her as he came to a stop. The woman immediately started running here hand up a seam in the concrete panelling. Her fingers appeared to catch on something, and Aria pushed some kind of button. The panel clicked and was immediately pushed by the woman, swinging inwards to reveal a dark passage. Mickie followed her into the dark, reminded of the Mechanist’s larger tunnels as he swung the concrete closed behind them.

‘Alright. We can’t stop yet. Keep your left hand to the wall and follow me.’

The request was a murmured whisper, hardly audible enough for Mickie to hear. Without light he could only blindly comply, and the pair moved into the dark. They proceeded through the cramped passage for some time. Pausing at various twists and turns only long enough for Mickie to receive directions. Eventually, Aria whispered for a halt, bringing them to a stop within the enveloping dark. A click sounded, and dim light spilt into the space, revealing the dusty passage in which he stood. Through an old metal door Aria had turned on a strange electrical lamp, one that looked like a smooth orb.

‘Come on in.’

Mickie warily entered a cramped service room, crowded with pipes and odd pieces of junk. On the floor in one corner was some edge metal sheeting, like an oversized baking tray. Some rags hung from a metal frame beside a ratty looking chair. Odd contraptions of twisted components were stashed atop the pipework all about the place, like the trophies of a professional dumpster diver. The closet was clearly some kind of hideout or saferoom. Judging by the familiarity with which Aria navigated the strewn junk, he could guess who maintained it.

‘I know it looks like a trash bin in here, never expected to have a visitor.’

She shifted aside some paper and pulled free a grimy bar of soap. With a frown Mickie watched the woman move to the oversized tray on the floor and motion him over.

‘I keep the place for when some of the angrier big demons come by the palace. Those fuckers can be nasty to humans, and normally the taskmasters are too busy freaking out themselves to notice if I’m around.’

With a grimace she continued.

‘Anyway, I discovered one of these pipes runs water early on.’

As Mickie came to stand by Aria, he noticed one of the thick pipes had a handled tap crudely attached to it. He looked from the tap to the metal sheet sitting on the floor below. One corner of the sheet had a hole cut into it that revealed nothing but darkness.

‘It’s a shower.’

‘Sure is.’

Aria gave him a smile, though it looked almost pained.

‘Best I could manage anyway. I’m going to go get your disguise sorted, I’ll probably be about half an hour or slightly longer. Get washed up while I’m gone.’

The thought of this woman he hardly knew leaving him in a location only she could find immediately put Mickie on edge. If Aria wanted to bring back an army of fiends to swamp him, she probably could. There was a silent moment I which he squashed those thoughts.

‘Yeah alright. See you in a bit.’

So far Aria had been nothing but helpful. By how tense she had been on the journey over here, it seemed like she was really sticking her neck out for him. While Mickie was unsure how he had earned this strange woman’s goodwill, it would be cruel of him to repay it with suspicion. The smile he received before Aria ducked out the door, told him that she had known his thoughts and appreciated his trust.

Alone in the cramped room, Mickie immediately stripped the ragged remnants of his pants away and stepped onto the metal basin. He found the handle of the tap difficult to turn, though once he had it open the flow of water was impressive. What followed were a few blissful minutes scrubbing himself clean. Mickie took a few slow mouthfuls of water, finding the liquid soothing to drink but not as quenching as he would have expected. It was curious, he had hardly consumed any food or liquids since arriving in Hell. Yet, despite this, he was not at all hungry or thirsty. Perhaps Miz-Mag or Aria would know something about it.

Once clean, Mickie found himself unwilling to step out of the water immediately. Instead, he stood under the steady flow from the tap, listening to the drops thrum against the metal underfoot. He followed the liquid as it swirled about the basin before vanishing into the dark hole in the corner. It was a weird drain for sure, but compared to some of the things he had seen so far, not overly special. To sate an idle curiosity Mickie leant over the hole and listened, unable to hear the splashing of water below. Definitely weird. Finally done with the shower, Mickie turned off the tap and started wiping away the water on his skin. Aria had provided a pile of rags that he used with gusto, coming dry and clean for what felt like the first time in years. Without a fresh set of clothes Mickie was forced to slip back into his old raggedy shorts. They rubbed against his skin like sandpaper, and immediately transferred some of their mess to him.

Sometime later there was a gentle tapping at the door and Aria slipped back inside holding a bundle of clothing. The older woman smiled when she saw Mickie clean.

‘You actually look somewhat normal now.’

She handed him the bundle of clothes and turned away. It was the work of moments for Mickie to strip off his filthy pants and don the fresh garments. Soon he had a long sleeve shirt and pants on, the set very similar to what Aria currently wore, baring one big difference.

‘Thanks for the fresh threads, though these don’t have any pockets.’

Aria chuckled.

‘Yeah, they don’t come with them, I added mine personally with old fabric. One more thing.’

She revealed a pair of fingerless motorcycle gloves, tossing them to Mickie. He examined them, dark leather with navy accents, certainly not his style.

‘I mean, thanks? It’s just gloves aren’t really my thing and they’ll make me stand out.’

Aria rolled her eyes.

‘Fool, they’ll save your life. While they certainly might garner some attention it won’t be nearly as much as that brand of yours. If one of the demons catches sight of that it’ll be pandemonium.’

With a sigh Mickie pulled the gloves on, disliking the feel of the leather between his fingers. Across from him the eagle-eyed woman nodded approvingly.

‘Good. I think they rather suit you. Now you look just like any of the workers about the upper castle.’

‘Are there really enough of you that I won’t be noticed as the odd one out?’

‘Sure, there are plenty of us. There are also new people cycling through constantly, so new faces aren’t a huge deal.’

The disguise seemed great, and while Mickie was grateful for the help, he needed to understand where all this goodwill came from.

‘Thank you. Really. I might have bumbled right into the demons if you hadn’t helped me.’

He smoothed out his shirt.

‘I need to ask though. Why? This place doesn’t seem real forgiving, you haven’t mentioned it but this whole endeavour can’t have been risk free for you.’

For what he thought was such an obvious question the inquiry seemed to have caught Aria off guard. She paused before releasing a long sigh, staring into the gently glowing lamp.

‘I don’t know if I’m honest. Maybe it’s the fact you have hope. It reminds me of someone.’

Mickie did not ask who. He had enough memories of his own that he would rather stay buried. Aria looked up suddenly and met his eyes.

‘Now. I believe you wanted some questions about the situation up here answered?’

‘I did. More about the way to the eighth circle, but yeah.’

‘Well then.

She thought for a moment then gave a wicked grin.

‘How about I do you one better?’

‘Oh?’

‘I’ll show you the way up.’

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

The two Humans wound their way through the dark tunnels. With Mickie securely ensconced in his disguise, Aria was far more open about their presence than before. The older woman lead the way with another lamp held high, happily discussing the situation at the top of the palace. The Palace Lord, a demon named Rainzell, apparently hated the Mechanist and its machines. As such, everything in this region was operated by flesh and blood. A multitude of human slave workers tended to the needs of the palace, supervised by imp task masters that reported up their own chain of command. Mickie could vaguely recall Mammon mentioning Rainzell when they had spoken. The chained demon had seemed to think the big boss was dangerously cunning. The discussion on the palace lord made Mickie recall another denizen of Hell he had heard mention of a few times.

‘So Rainzell is the boss of the Palace, or the bit up the top at least. What about the Sovereign then? I’ve heard that demon mentioned a few times.’

There was a brief hitch in Aria’s step at the mention of the Sovereign.

‘The Sovereign huh? Yeah not surprising, it’s the ruler of Hell. Though you’re wrong about the sovereign being a demon.’

‘Not a demon? What else would it be?’

Mickie frowned. His companion hesitated only briefly before answering.

‘An angel. A fallen angel. Never seen it myself, but apparently it looks just like one.’

That was surprising, though not hugely so, Mickie had heard of fallen angels before.

‘And their name is Sovereign?’

Aria rolled her eyes.

‘No, that’s its title. The Sovereign’s name is Mizaraphel.’

Not a name Mickie could recall hearing while alive, though certainly one he now committed to memory.

‘So, if this Mizaraphel is the ruler of Hell then why isn’t it in the palace?’

That caused Aria to stop in the middle of the passage, right at an intersection. The answer she gave was whispered, as if she didn’t quite believe it herself.

‘Because of the invasion.’

‘What invasion?’

‘The invasion of the living world. Mizaraphel has decided that Hell isn’t enough. It’s going to bring about the apocalypse. Gathering the forces of Hell as it rises towards Limbo, with a plan to break through the border between worlds en masse.’

Mickie stood frozen for a moment, processing that information. Suddenly it made sense why he had seen so few actual demons throughout the castle. If the Sovereign had gathered it forces, then that would mean those within the castle as well. They scale of it all, an invasion of the world above. It was too big to for him to really comprehend. There was nothing he could do about it. If anything, the Sovereign gathering its forces had assisted Mickie in his climb of the palace. He was uncertain if he could have dealt with an army of bloodthirsty demons on top of the Mechanist. And yet, if the Sovereign invaded the world of the living, then what would there be to climb towards? Even if he managed to escape Hell, what was the point if the world above was more of the same? Mickie pushed the thoughts away, that line of thinking would help him. There was nothing he could do about the Sovereign and its forces. He shook his head and turned to Aria.

‘Alright, sorry. That was a bit of a bombshell.’

The older woman chuckled.

‘I bet it was. You ready to keep moving?’

He responded with a nod.

‘Good, because we’re just out of the passage and we can’t chat in the open. From here on out we are docile slaves, you got it?’

With a deep breath Mickie nodded once more.

‘Yep. Head lowered and mouth shut.’

After another short walk the duo arrived at a dead end. With quick motions, Aria found another hidden switch and the wall popped open to reveal a service closet. Once inside the woman directed Mickie towards a collection of mops and buckets.

‘Best way to take your time and get a look is to clean. We’ll mop one of the halls leading to the lobby.’

Buckets topped with suds they stepped through the door and into the hall beyond, revealing an opulent passage of shiny marble floors and walls rich in colour and tapestries. As interesting as the surrounds were, Mickie kept his eyes to the floor while they moved towards the target passage. Flowing about him was a continual stream of imps, rushing along with cloven hooves tapping on pristine tiles. They never gave him more than a second glance, and yet Mickie was sure one would catch him out at any moment.

Up ahead Aria had come to a stop, standing at the intersection between halls. The number of imps has slowly dwindled as they progressed, and in the hall ahead he could see none bustling about. The older woman moved to one side of the hall and wrung out her mop. As she started to wipe the floor in practiced motions, she waved a hand in the direction of the opposing wall. Mickie got the message and started cleaning alongside her. They slowly worked their way up the length of the hall, stepping backwards with every swish of the mop. Soon, he noticed the walls opening up behind him, the passage reaching an open room. Briefly Mickie wondered if Aria’s plan was to have them mop the entire lobby. He was not keen to spend hours working, though maybe it would provide him with a chance to slip up the stairs. The thought of simply sneaking out of the Palace now was tempting. Aria turned about at the end of the passage, moving closer to the centre of the hall and cleaning back the way they had come. Slightly disappointed they weren’t going beyond the passage, Mickie still moved to mirror her. It was then he finally got a good look at the staircase to the next circle.

It was huge, sitting in the middle of a beautiful circular chamber, emerging from the domed ceiling far above in a twisting spiral. According to Aria, these stairs would take him straight to a huge city that occupied the eighth circle. And they were just, there. The room was as empty as the passage they were cleaning, not a demon in sight. What was to stop him just walking up to the giant spiral and leaving this terrible castle behind. Without even realising it Mickie had set his mop against the wall. He approached the staircases chamber with slow steps, pausing on the threshold. It couldn’t be this easy. Surely some of the other humans must have tried to flee at some point, yet Aria seemed got up those stairs intact. But, there was no one to see him, the hall was desolate. It had to be worth the risk. Miz-Mag’s face when it awoke to find them on the next circle would be priceless.

There was a distant sound, growing louder as it approached the hall. The sounds of a squeaking voice accompanied by heavy footsteps. A lot of heavy footsteps. Aria was suddenly by his side, face white as a sheet and trembling like a cat in the cold. His guide did not speak, tugging at his shirt with frantic urgency as the sounds grew louder and Mickie could make out the voice of an imp.

‘…no news of the Mechanist, Lord. We have dispatched scouts to its lair to ascertain the condition of the machine.’

Mickie understood then why Aria was so frantic. The imp had said Lord. It was time to go. He collected his bucket and mop as a new voice sounded, deep and resonant as if booming through a cavern.

‘And the Kindle Kin?’

‘Still at large Lord. We are having difficulty uncovering the reason behind their rebellion. It is unheard of.’

‘The Conductor is secured?’

‘Entirely Lord. A full brigade has been stationed outside its chamber.’

The two humans started an expeditious retreat back the way they had come. Mickie glanced over his shoulder to the distant staircase as they fled, only to catch a small red figure emerge into the chamber. It was the imp he had heard talking. Something else followed the little demon, something large, with a monstrous body that trailed behind it. The Palace Lord. Judging by Aria’s reaction to it, they did not want to capture this being’s attention. Mickie turned away and hurried to follow Aria down a side passage. And yet, as he moved around the bend, he felt something. The feeling of being watched, magnified beyond reason. In the few steps it took Mickie to escape from sight he felt as if he was on an operating table, guts splayed open as something poked at his inside. Then he rounded the corner, and the feeling was gone. As Mickie pursued Aria he heard the deep voice, a distant rumble that caused his stomach to churn.

‘It is apparent to me, that we have a rat in these walls.’