He pushed his way through the crowd, stopping when he got a clear view of the door. It was enormous, taking up five full stories on the stone wall in front of them. It was smooth and flat, its edges molded into the wall as if someone pushed it in. On the top half of the door, in the center, was a series of symbols arranged in a circle. The symbols were long and thin, with straight lines and sharp edges. There were only a few symbols, so the circle wasn't complete, the one-third without symbols just empty space. The crowd below the door, spread out on a large space, was staring at it and whispering to each other. Some came, some left, but there were always people here, eager to catch sight of the doors people called Hell's Gates.

No one knew whether they actually led to hell or not. No one knew what was behind the doors at all, since none of them have ever been opened. But people talked, and people guessed, and people assumed. The Gates have been here for as long as anyone could remember, just as the people have lived underground for as long as their history has existed. Their origin was a mystery with no clues, and their contents featured a similar tale.

Now, in the crowd, the boy stared at them, gaze full of wonder and intrigue as he tried to guess what was inside. Everyone around him did the same, chattering as they spoke their thoughts.

Vampires, someone told the boy. Vampires lay behind those doors.

Someone else said it was the realm of angels.

A man claimed there were monsters worse than any person could imagine.

Another, the Gods' tombs.

Maybe even the stars themselves.

There was only one way to find out what lay inside, however. As the boy stood there, entranced by the many possibilities, by the aura of power and dread every one of Hell's Gates carried, he swore to himself that one day, he'll discover the way to open them. And on that day, he would go inside, even if it meant his own death.