The Last Circle

Held up in an expanse of infinite darkness, humans and jinns alike found themselves standing with their gazes affixed straight down, quaking with a fear like no other, while a disembodied, majestic, commanding, and all-powerful voice called upon them one by one. Their hearts weighed heavy, their eyes shook in their sockets, and the force of their clenched jaws made them all feel as though they were going to faint.

Across a vast bridge, spanning an untold distance, the gates of eternal paradise safeguarded the eternal light and infinite stretch of the most magnificent, brilliant Heaven, set upon white, fluffy clouds. Those who had earned their place in Heaven crossed the bridge within a blink of an eye, never to experience the hardship of resisting sin.

Below, like a raging beast; like a dragon spewing flames in its ire, roared the depths of Hell, burning ever so intensely as more fuel—in the form of humans and jinns—was fed into it. Following its terrifying roar, instilling fear and pulling at the hearts of all, was a cacophony of pain, suffering, and torment.

Those who had yet to face the judgment wanted nothing more than to collapse; to escape back to the temporary life where their worst fears could not even begin to compare. Each second gnawed at their minds; their souls; their very being, imposing an eternity of fear.

At the end of it all, only two remained: A human and a jinn stood in silence, letting joyous laughter and voices across the bridge mix with the chorus of billions of voices below. The human had brown hair, white skin, and was of a frail build with a tall stature. The jinn, like all others, was veiled in a dark grey-blue cloth—akin to the depths of what they once knew as Earth's oceans—that hid his spiritual form entirely, as though he were a ghost.

"Be cast unto eternal damnation!" yelled the all-powerful voice, with a tone that shook all of existence, forcing all of life—even the inanimate creations across all realms and times—to bow down in their immortal fear.

Except for the two, who found themselves through the darkness, plunging into the light of Hell itself, which welcomed them in the crackling embrace of the cleansing fire.

Alas, the judgment had come to an end, and all had met their fates.

***

'How long has it been?' an inner voice asked.

Flashbacks of unparalleled pain and suffering echoed untold centuries; perhaps millennia; perhaps eternities.

'Either we die and return for more,' an old soul told oneself.

Images of inexplicable beings flashed across the minds of all, with said beings delivering pain in ways that were both within and beyond the constraints of imagination. And if there was anything other than the beings, it was the harsh, fiery, and boiling environment that obliterated them.

One of those creatures, several arms outstretched, a mouthless face that drooled, fur as black as the void itself, and adorned with red dots for eyes all over its body, lifted a mighty boulder above itself, easily thrice its hulking size. Without mercy; without remorse; without a shred of humanity, it bashed into the skull of the only human found for as far as the eye could see—and beyond even that—in an incandescent land of fire that stretched up until it was merely a pixel, painting everything in itself.

'Or we lay in endless torment,' so thought the human, shackled to the ground by red hot chains dug into his skin, with eyes engulfed in a fiery embrace, more so living orbs of flame than eyes. They were not ones borne of anger or hatred, but rather, a pitiful embrace of constant, excruciating pain that swallowed him whole, bleeding out the human's regret. 'Will it ever be enough?'

"Halt," a voice called out, majestic, pure, smooth, and angelic. It was loud, and it echoed throughout every level of Hell, freezing all of time, whatever that meant in an eternal place. "By God's decree, one soul shall earn the chance to return to grace."

'What?' the human asked internally, his petrified face masking his knitted brows. 'A chance to return to grace?'

"Long and painful has your punishment been," the voice called out to all of Hell, once again, "but your Lord extends unto you a chance."

Shimmering before the human's frozen eyes was a translucent grey screen, displaying a transcript in boldened white text of the voice that called out, with a compact interface.

[ANNOUNCEMENT]

[O ye who have transgressed beyond the limits of your souls...]

[There can only be one...]

Without any delay, and still frozen in time, the shackles dug into his flesh shattered, fading into the still flames like fallen leaves caught in a gust.

[Seek redemption in the light and return to grace!]

He watched as thousands of swords, radiating in a brilliant gold-white warmth, pierced right through the black furred beast, obliterating it as they sliced through its hide, followed by its transformation to a misty black smoke.

[Cleanse away your sins...]

Time resumed, and the human yelled in pain as his disfigured face fixed itself, shattered bones pieced themselves, skin burnt to ash restitched itself, and blood returned to his body. In a matter of seconds, he was completely restored, and the fire that once engulfed him fled in all directions, allowing him to witness the grand architecture that was Hell.

[Do what must be done!]

'But what must be done?' he asked himself, before yelling that same question aloud, to no avail however.

The shimmering screen in front of him stayed open, allowing him to read the transcript over and over, though he helplessly tried to swat it away, still confused about what just occurred. It took him a couple minutes of attempts, but eventually he'd give up, left to wonder how to close the panel that hovered wherever he cast his gaze.

With brows drawn together he stared at the panel, wondering if perhaps he needed to speak instead. "Uh... close?" he said, revealing a monotonous and dead voice of a man who supposedly was in his twenties—whatever age meant in a realm where he'd been suffering eternal punishment.

The panel responded to his words, leaving him with a few moments to thank God that he figured it out, until the panel had returned once again. This time, it brought a new message.

[Welcome to Hell!]

The young man frowned as he stared at the panel. 'What do you mean welcome? I've been here for too many eternities...'

[The tutorial will now begin.]

"Tutorial?" he asked aloud, watching as new words displayed themselves.

[Using your right hand, touch the tip of your thumb to your pinkie to access your status menu.]

He looked down at his open hands, with fingers outstretched. For once in God knows how long, his skin looked healthy, and it didn't feel like ash, nor did it feel like it was on fire. Slowly, he did as told, watching as the panel underwent a chromatic aberration and displayed his status menu.

Name: [You do not have a name. You are known as Wretched Nameless One.]

Rank: Accursed

Epithet: The One Who Eclipsed Satan

Attributes: [Immutable], [Lightless Creature], [Gaze of the Cleansing Fire (Devil Tier)], [Eternal Witness (Devil Tier)]

Talent: [You are talentless, for now. Ascend the Spire of the Infinite Corridor into the Sixth Circle of Hell to awaken your talent.]

Artifacts: You do not possess any artifacts

Weakness: [None.]

Sin: [Calculating...]

Fragments of Divinity: 0/1,000,000

Location: Seventh Circle of Hell

"I don't have a name?" said Wretched Nameless One, throwing a sneer at the panel. "What in Hell does that mean? What are these attributes? How long does it take to calculate sin? What does any of this mean?"

These were just a few of the many questions he asked himself... or at least, called out to the panel. But just as he asked, a banner notification appeared in the centre of the screen, blocking out the status menu.

[Sin calculation complete.]

The Wretched Nameless One ordered the notification to close, but he immediately wished he didn't take a look. He could do nothing but stare in horror as he dropped to his knees, eyes bulging, hands on his head—wanting nothing more than to rip out his brown hair.

"No, this can't be!"