Morvathos walked toward the door. It creaked open on its own, the heavy sound echoing through the empty palace. He stepped outside into a neglected garden, weeds spilling over the paths and dead leaves scattered across the ground.
At the center stood a smearing gate, the Gate of the Underworld. It linked Hell to Earth and Underworld, allowing Morvathos to pass between realms.
Of course, it wasn't free. To travel to Earth, one coin is needed. But to go to Underworld, 10,000 Karmic Coins are needed. Morvathos felt it was both absurd but fair as well.
But Morvathos's eyes didn't linger on it. Instead, he spread his arms, invoking Umbral Dissolution —a racial ability that let him fly at Mach 1.
His body dissolved into a vortex of black mist and tore across the skies of Hell toward the Pit of Karma and Punishment leaving a trail of black mist behind.
He wanted to see with his own eyes how Hell functioned, and most of all, how karmic coins were generated through soul refinement.
The black vortex slammed into the ground, and Morvathos reformed within the haze. Ahead stood the Pit's gate—two red pillars supporting a frame with a signboard written in Underworld script: Pit of Karma and Punishment.
He walked forward.
The gate opened by itself, and the moment it did, a flood of wails and shrieks burst out, hitting him like a tibal wave.
"AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHH!!!"
"HEEEELPPP!! HELPP!!"
"WATER!!! PLEASE SOMEONE GIVE ME WATER!!!"
"AAAHHH!! I'M BURING!!!"
Souls crying, pleading, screaming. It barely stirred him. His heart was indifferent, and deep within, there was even disdain. They were sinners and they deserved it.
The pit burned like a massive stove, flames of red and black twisting together. These karmic flames were impartial—whether mortal, god, or wandering spirit, sins were burned down to nothing.
The flames parted for him as he descended, though not for him, but for the Authority Seal in his hand. He watched as the fire gnawed at souls, burning away sins until they crumbled into golden dust. The silver-white ground absorbed the particles, fueling Hell's cycle.
Morvathos didn't linger. He dissolved again and swept through the pit, searching for any damage. Finding none, he left and turned toward his next destination: the Spring of Reincarnation, on the far side of Hell.
Hell itself was only about fifty kilometers across, a circular land without sun or moon. Its sky had no day, no night. Instead, it hung in a strange twilight, something not dawn, not dusk—somewhere between. The eerie beauty fascinated him, though only for a moment.
He reached the Spring, where thick fog blanketed the area—Fog of First Arrival. This was where souls appeared after judgment at the yin-yang symbol, before walking the designated path toward reincarnation.
The sinners were first sent to the Pit to receive their Punishment and be refined.
He stepped into the fog. Pale figures drifted around him—shapeless specters with only the vaguest hint of human form. They shuffled forward, mindless, until the fog thinned and a cave system unfolded ahead.
The sound of waterfalls guided him to the heart of the cave. Six rivers converged into a pool, and at its center churned a massive pit—the Spring of Reincarnation.
The rivers were the six Rivers of Reincarnation, each carrying souls along their Lime Green water.
He watched silently as millions of souls drifted along. Then his eyes widened. One soul slipped free of the river, floating upward. A leak. The water was corrupted. Instead of being pulled into the cycle, the soul drifted toward the ceiling of the cave.
But he knew better. Their was no ceiling and the soils were probably drifting somewhere in the Earth's atmosphere or close to the place they were supposed to reincarnate.
Morvathos stayed, observing for hours.
As Morvathos stood before the Spring of Reincarnation, watching the leaking soul, something stirred inside him.
A pressure bubbled in his chest, breaking the calm that had forced upon himself. His jaw clenched tight.
If Abrosis had been doing his duty properly, this would never have happened. The corruption of the soul water was no recent thing. This kind of rot did not take days, nor even years—it took decades. Fifty… maybe sixty years.
And even then, if it had been handled early, it wouldn't have reached this state. Now the leakage of souls was beginning to gnaw at the cycle of reincarnation itself.
Morvathos felt his breath quicken, but he forced it under control, steadying himself again.
Three souls leaked per hour. Just three. But he could feel it spreading, worsening. Soon it would be ten, then a hundred. Disastrous. And to repair the Spring, he would need 100,000 karmic coins.
He returned to the throne room, calculating, before rising again. His next stop was the Treasury and Shopping Room. Both had been bound to Abrosis, the previous God of Death. He would make them his.
The palace was square. The throne room faced the entrance; to the right were the treasury and shopping room; to the left, his quarters; and behind, guest rooms—though he snorted inwardly. Who would visit Hell as a guest?
His mood wasn't great. So he didn't appreciate the ancient beauty of the palace. The center of the palace had and inner yard.
He arrived in front of the Shopping room.
He extended his hand over the shopping room's lock. His authority seal pulsed, silver-white lines flowing into it, it went inside the lock and came back, being absorbed into the seal again.
The bond formed, and he could now trade across the universe, provided he had the coins. The treasury was next.
The lock accepted his seal, and the door opened with a heavy crack. Light spilled into the room. He wanted to see what was inside himself and mostly, he was curious how a karmic coins looked like.
But the sight that met him made him freeze. The bubbly feeling inside his chest erupted like a tidal wave of the ocean. The indifference forced on him cracked.
The treasury was empty.
Morvathos was sure that Abrosis had taken everything. One can't say that there wasn't any karmic coins left the treasury because the Divine Laws were charging it.
Morvathos was sure that there were many karmic coins which Abrosis used for his indulgence. Morvathos got more furious with each passing moment.
He was not only forced to do something he didn't want to but was also was left with nothing as inheritance.
Then, with a hollow sound, a single coin materialized from thin air. It clinked against the stone floor, bounced twice, and came to rest.
The ringing of steel on stone echoed in the vast emptiness, and Morvathos felt something snap within him.
"YOU SON OF A BIIITTCHHH!!!"
A shout of pure fury rang through the otherwise quite Hell before everything went quite again.