Night falls—not gently, but ceremonially.
Every screen glows. Every drop of water ripples. Every soul stills.
A voice rises across realms—whisper and thunder entwined:
"Good evening, mortals and deities alike.
I am Verot, Totem of Speech.
If your voice is stolen… pray to me. If you are pure—I may lend it back."
He appears on the Totem Stage, stitched from ancient prayers and pulsing signal towers woven through space and spirit.
"This is not entertainment—it is Totem Contest, a ritual older than your stars.
If your screen breaks… let your soul tune in.
We stream in reflections. In minds. In dreams."
"Tonight, you will witness Heaven.
You will witness Hell.
And between them… the weight of your choices."
The crowd from 70+ realms sits silent. Even the concept of time pauses.
Meet the Judges of Existence
Mazi
Totem of Creation
Clock Mask
Begins destiny
Zavir
Totem of Destruction
Red Moon Mask
Ends cycles
Aernis
Totem of Inner Protection
Lion Mask
Guards spirit and truth
Drakso
Totem of Outer Protection
Dragon Mask
Shields body and future
Their arrival shakes the celestial foundation beneath every multiversal thread.
Episode 5 Contestants Emerge
Portals glow. Power hums.
Laro – Totem of Winds Virtua – Totem of Strength Glade – Totem of Politeness 🌙 Kikia – Totem of Beauty Fione – Totem of Winter
From the frostbound edge of forgotten stars, Fione steps forth.
Her bluish hair dances like northern lights in slow motion. Her icy dress carries the memory of ancient snows. Her mask is a regal Stag, antlers shimmering like frozen constellations. She moves like a hush before the first snowfall—elegant, eternal.
She lets the silence settle before speaking:
"The forge burns.
The winds howl.
But winter—winter listens.
And tonight… I speak for silence."
The stage dims under moonlight frost.
Fione stands with grace stitched from silence and snowfall. Her voice flows—not spoken, but felt:
"I bow to you all—audience of realms, and venerable Totem Judges.
I am Winter, gentle yet relentless. My Stag Mask is not just symbolic—it is love.
In my home, I've built a peaceful inn where real stags live and roam freely.
They are my serenity, my memory, my soul's companions."
The crowd breathes her words like snowfall. Even time leans closer.
"Now, dear Judges… especially Aernis, Totem of Inner Protection,
I humbly request the ceremonial selection pool.
Please call forth five devotees you've chosen."
Fione gestures with both hands, framing the moment like an altar of air.
"From these five, one shall be called forward.
I do not know them, nor do I choose—only truth must speak."
Judge Aernis steps forward—his Lion Mask gleaming like dawn on brass.
He raises a radiant scroll and calls:
"These five are presented for Winter's grace.
Their stories await. Profiles will be shared for judgment and fate."
he Lion Mask flickers under ceremonial glow. Judge Aernis, voice like thunder sealed in silk, steps forward:
"Winter's will has spoken. The spirit selected…
Is one touched by beauty, cursed by fate."
He unrolls the sacred scroll.
"I now reveal the name and profile—
Brianeka Jiravo.
Race: Fairy
Gender: Male
Appearance: Pink-haired, sculpted like marble, a blend of angelic beauty and brutal might.
Devotee of: Fione
Status: Dead. In Hell.
No realm claims him. No time shelters him."
A hushed dread settles across the Totem Stage.
⏱️ "Three Minutes Until Descent"
Fione's frost flickers, visibly shaken but resolute.
Judge Aernis bows in silent respect.
"Before his tale begins… we break.
Let silence breathe. Let watchers prepare.
In three minutes, Winter follows fire."
As the stage dims, the Totems speak among themselves in quiet cosmic frequency:
Verot (Speech): "His voice shattered time. Curious what echoes remain in Hell." Drakso (Outer Protection): "Even death has doors. I wonder what he guards now." Zavir (Destruction): "He's in my territory. Let's see if beauty survives ruin." Tecto (Tech): "Systems calibrated. I move to Hell now—initiating spatial bridge."
The ritual interface pulses red.
Hell Preview Sequence Initiated
Through twisted signal geometry, a breach opens.
We glimpse Brianeka's soul:
Hovering in flaming stillness. Eyes closed. Muscles tense. Wings torn—but glowing faintly.
The hellscape itself reveals:
Spires forged from broken promises. Rivers of molten memory. Masks drift through shadows—judging silently.
Totem of Death Appears: Mako
Suddenly, a shadow rises like wind over a tomb.
From the veil between realms steps Mako, Totem of Death—
His presence is not cold, but final. His voice echoes like verdict.
"I am Mako. Keeper of the End.
Brianeka's story belongs to me now."
He turns toward the darkened spire behind the stage.
"I command all Hell Assistants—prepare for this episode immediately.
Masks on. Sigils active.
We descend into the sorrow furnace… and extract his truth."
With his signal, the Hell Portal begins opening—
Fractal chains unlock. Red mist coils.
Brianeka's soul silhouette flickers into view: silent, wing-torn, eyes closed beneath pale flame.
The scene shifts. The sky blinks crimson.
Storyteller Totem Aernis raises his arm.
"Camera—action. Let the Hell Sequence begin."
Mist curls upward from the royal abyss.
The Totems descend into the mirrored realm—Hell, forged not from torment, but twisted truth.
Royal Court of Hell Appears
Mazi, Clock Mask glimmering, surveys the arena:
"Strange… Hell and Heaven share design symmetry.
A mirrored throne room. Ornate pillars. One seeded in grace… the other, in consequence."
He smiles.
"Let us sit, judges. Special seats for divine eyes.
Audience—take your front rows. The show begins."
Entrance of the King of End
A procession of dark robed Hell Assistants marches forth, led by heralds carved from bonelight.
In unified voice, they chant:
"Hail the King of End.
The undefeated.
Lord of Death. Sin Hunter. Soul Punisher.
Death Reaper. Blade Sovereign.
The Totem of Death—King Mako. Welcome back to Hell!"
The throne, forged from lost oaths and final breaths, shifts open.
Mako Speaks
The audience stills. The weight of finality spreads.
Mako, seated at the center in quiet command:
"Welcome, all.
This episode descends deep—do not blink lightly."
He turns toward his command steward:
"Jerico—no mortal souls during this broadcast.
We are streaming through divine frequencies.
Let all distractions cease."
A pulse echoes across the realm—Hell pauses for the Contest.
The Storyteller Called Forward
Mako lifts his hand.
"Let the Storyteller come to the Royal Floor.
Continue the profile. Reveal the truth."
The floor glows like embered parchment.
Aernis, Lion Mask blazing gently, walks onto the stage.
The soul of Brianeka Jiravo shimmers nearby, waiting in spectral shadow.
Deep within the tortured expanse of Jadebur Planet, soul #87000—Brianeka Jiravo—mines beneath skies boiled red.
Blades of diamond shimmer in molten crust.
Jiravo's feet blister on the cursed terrain, every step carved through agony.
His eyes are hollow. His breath, a whispered regret.
Hell Assistants, masked in obsidian steel and wielding jagged swords, bark commands:
"Faster, sinner!
There is no food. No respite! Your sentence is eternal."
But the soul trembles. Something flickers in his gut—a ghost of hunger.
Echoes of Mourning
Back in the Royal Court of Hell, King Mako, adorned in red velvet and crowned with a glowing lion mask beneath a skull crest, raises his hand.
The Assistants pause. Cosmic law hums in the silence.
"Souls of the dead require no nourishment. Not by Hell's decree."
Then Mako's voice softens—echoing with ancient truth:
"Unless… the living mourn.
True grief opens a conduit.
When family bleeds sorrow into the fabric of reality, sustenance echoes across realms.
Food not physical—but emotional. A flicker of memory.
A sensation. A comfort. A dream."
A child cries in his sleep on Earth—Jiravo's son. A longing unanswered.
The grief manifests briefly, a wisp of energy crossing dimensions. It reaches Jadebur…
...then dissipates, denied by cosmic judgment.
"In Jadebur, grace rarely survives. Grief must be pure to feed sin."
The Dangerous Planet Revealed
Mako turns toward the judges, unveiling a projection from Hell's cosmograph.
A celestial body swirls into view—Dangerous Planet.-Jadeburn
Its surface pulses with tempest rings and violet flame corridors.
A place forged to test resilience after retribution.
"Punishment exists with structure. Even danger has its divine purpose.
The cosmos remembers everything."
The court falls silent.
Debate Among the Divine
Mako faces the Tribunal.
"Now… what is your ruling?
Judges. Fiona. Speak your judgment."
Judge Mazi, calm and clock-eyed, nods:
"A beautifully woven punishment. Balanced. I approve."
Destroyer Totem, stone-faced and fierce:
"But did he use Fiona's name to mask sin?
If he corrupted innocence with divine loyalty—justice demands reconsideration."
Mako, firm and unwavering:
"He invoked Fiona's name only once.
And only in a noble act… the abolition of child labor."
Gasps ripple.
"But even that thread was severed.
He later corrupted those children—trained them into smugglers and blades.
The good undone by greed."
Fiona Responds
Fiona, radiant and torn, steps forward:
"Then… welcome the Story Changer.
Is there anything left to rewrite?"
The Soul Scroll pulses again. Cosmic verdict waits.
The firelight dims as silence hums across the multiversal court.
Then—a gust of narrative thunder.
Drakso, the Totem of Outer Protection, appears, cloaked in evolving flame, wearing the iconic Dragon Mask.
He descends slowly to the center of Hell's Royal Court.
"O soul… Jiravo.
You are not merely a villain—you were seeded.
In your second cycle of existence, you were cursed…
By the fallen templar Gnesi, a jealous knight of spirit."
He turns to Mako, King of Hell:
"Mako. You wanted the inner truth—now hear it.
That curse was designed to activate on his 8th cycle. And we stand inside it now."
The Curse and Its Echo
"All sins he committed… do not originate fully from him.
The curse bent his intent, poisoned his logic.
As such—half of his sin shall be transferred to Gnesi, the source of distortion."
The scrolls ripple with approval. Divine law recalibrates.
Fiona's Connection
Drakso's voice softens.
"One more thread:
From his first cycle, Jiravo was your devotee, Fiona.
The bond was buried through death and transformation—but it remains."
Fiona wipes frozen mist from her eyes.
"Then I request this soul enter Heaven—let him be judged by light."
The Verdict of Heaven
The heavens shimmer.
King Ovinex, ruler of the Celestial Throne, appears through a radiant halo.
"Very well.
Templar Gnesi—bear the weight of inherited corruption.
He shall be judged and sent to Hell."
A portal swallows Gnesi's essence.
Final Judgment by Mako
Mako, regal and ruthless, steps forward.
"Two souls remain—Jiravo and Gnesi.
I hereby send both to Exoplanet Femlis—23rd in the infernal ring.
There, they shall mine gold in the Windshell veins,
For 450,000 years."
"Upon completion…
They will be reborn into a cultured, wealthy family, to learn virtue through comfort."
He turns to Jerico.
"Transport them.
Let punishment begin… and future flicker."
Anchor Verot Closes the Chapter
The Totem of Speech steps into the divine spotlight.
"Today, you saw Hell's truth, its sorrow, its cosmic gears.
Perhaps tomorrow, you shall witness Heaven's memory."
A soft smile crosses his glowing lips.
"Next contestant…
Returning for a second round—Laro, Totem of Winds."
Verot raises his hand to end the episode.
"Trust, justice, mystery, and mercy—this is Totem Contest.
Good night… and let virtue guide your screen."