Soren was not in hell. It might as well have been, though. Immediately after his soul coalesced into his usual bright, blurry, figure he could tell something had gone wrong while he was being Refreshed.
Something very, very wrong. Souls inside the Collective has senses of their own, all akin to the same physical humans have. They are just attuned to a different plane of existence than the meat-pockets.
What Soren was sensing right now, what he was seeing, hearing, and feeling, was pain. Pain, misery, madness from every direction. It was a far cry from the usual scene of the serene, intangible threads that they would usually travel through in order to arrive at whatever nexus they had decided to reside in for a time.
They were all alite with what looked to be black flames, burning so hot that every soul unfortunate enough to not be in a nexus was already being torn apart as the dark flames ripped into their very essence, and destroyed every trace of their existence with it's otherworldly heat, along with the threads that connected them.
"W-what in damnation is happening?!" Soren's bright eyes widened and his pupils narrowed into pinholes. Reaching his senses deeper into the vast threads of the Collective, he could sense.. creatures of some kind. Creatures that were so vulgar and repulsive to perceive, that his very soul shook with dark curiosity. As his eyes took in this dark Macabre scenery, madness began seeping in along with it.
'C-close them! Close them now!' He shrieked as his very core of being was forcing him to cut off his sense. He did not know what was happening, he did not know the reason. Nothing like this had ever been recorded in human history, or even the known history of the tiny corner of the galaxy they inhabited.
All he knew was that he needed to escape. Fast. But how? He was just Refreshed, he couldn't just dive into a body whenever he wanted, there needed to be a connection established by the Court of the Collective, and the body needed to be free of a soul.
'Screw it all', He thought to himself with his eyes closed, and senses shut off. He had just gotten back, but now some crazy, eldritch, soul-killing invasion had gone off with no warning, and no word from his Collective. He was absolutely not going to stay, and while he knew it was risky, he had a way out.
His body from the physical world, that had just died.
Soren sighed with indignation, he did not really care for his Collective in the traditional sense, but he had called it his home for thousands of years. He was slowly filling himself with more and more anger, anger towards this situation. He was angry that something so unexpected and maddening had descended upon his people, upon him.
"You sorry shits targeted the wrong ones." Well, on second thought, they weren't that sorry. After all, they were ripping apart a technical marvel that breached into the realm of magic, where humans could become veritable gods in their own universe. That was not sorry at all. He had to run in order to survive; but he would be back. Oh yes, he'd be back.
But first, he had to take a risk.
A risk that usually ended in failure, and if succeeded, usually meant still being reduced to a vegetative state.
He was going to revive himself from the dead.