Satan's palace was by no means a happy place. However, with the war effort trundling away in the background, the complex was humming with a strange feeling of excitement. After many stagnant millennia, the Demons had finally gotten the upper hand over Heaven. And, with the addition of several new members to their ranks, those involved in politics were simply abuzz with newfound optimism. "Never thought I'd see this town so cheery," a Demon with short ginger hair said with a quiet chortle.
"Me neither, Grandt, it's honestly kind of amazing," the devil's friend, Saladin, added. The streets were bustling with eye-popping crowds and merchant booths—who were no doubt trying to ride this buzz all the way to the bank. "It's almost like we're wandering through one of the Giants' festivals."
"If that's the case, we might as well take advantage of it," Grandt laughed as he hovered around a few of the food stalls. "One of each should be enough."
"Be careful," Saladin said, "remember our budget." Yet again, his friend chuckled and waved him off.
"Ah, don't be such a stick in the mud!" There were only so many times one could let loose in this godforsaken realm.
"Fine, but make it quick, we've got to get all this back within the hour."
"Roger!" Like a whirlwind, Grandt emptied the nearby vendors' shelves, stuffing his bag full of various goodies and trinkets. After paying, he practically danced back to his partner's side.
"You're so dramatic."
"Heh, thanks for the compliment," Grandt scoffed as he bit into a juicy apple. "Yum! The harvest's good this year!" The produce grown in the Third Circle was always tasty, but there was something special about this crop.
"Satan must be in a good mood," Saladin theorized with a smile.
"Guess so," Grandt agreed as they made their way past the town's gates. Demons of all shapes and sizes were scurrying about the blood-red fields of flowers, making the place seem like a snapshot of paradise. "Like always, it's hard to believe that we're in God's dumpster."
"Cheer up, my friend, it's not good to look so grumpy during a festival—it attracts attention."
"I think it's already too late for that. I mean, did you see those shopkeepers' faces?"
"Well, yeah, you emptied their stock in one go."
"Bah! Everyone's a critic!" Grandt hissed with his head held high like a pompous noble. After that, they continued their little hike in silence, interrupted by the occasional flare from one of the many nearby volcanic vents.
"This should be far enough," Saladin said as he unfurled his wings.
"You sure about that? The town guard's been out in force recently, maybe we should double-check?"
"Since when have you been so cautious?"
"Hey, I just don't want to lose this haul."
"Fair enough." With that, the pair clambered atop a nearby hillock to survey the surrounding skies. As expected, most of the devils had congregated around the city's central square, though there were one or two stragglers.
"We'll wait five minutes for the patrols to change, and then we'll dash."
"Sounds like a plan." Once they were in the clear, the pair of devils rocketed to the north, far past any buildings or caves that might've been housing one of their kin. Lady Luck seemed to be on their side that day, as they managed to make it past the final guard post within the hour. Eventually, they came upon a massive forest of decaying trees. Crawling inside this wasteland were numerous monstrosities and blights, as well as the tortured souls of the damned. Saladin and Grandt traversed this maze with ease, flying under every open nook and cranny like hawks.
"This area's gotten quiet." New beasts must've moved in. "Should we thin out the horde?" Grandt asked as he playfully placed a hand on his bicep.
"We don't have that luxury," Saladin said, stopping his partner in his tracks. "Now, c'mon, we're almost there." The rest of their journey was spent in silence, interrupted only by the occasional howl of some distant monstrosity. They continued on until they reached a giant cliff, one that almost looked like the edge of the world.
"This place always gives me the creeps." Offshoots of the River Styx were common in the netherworld, but they were rarely as ginormous and foreboding as this stream. Even Demons felt uneasy when staring into its bottomless depths, which was why the land surrounding it was practically uninhabited. However, this gorge held a secret, one that only a handful of their kin were aware of.
"Okay, let's head down."
"Yup," Grandt muttered as he slung their bag of goodies over his shoulder before plummeting into the darkness. The rockface was cool to the touch, almost like ice, which only grew more extreme the deeper they went. They fell like this for a few moments, past an uncountable number of large roots and caves, before landing on a small outcropping halfway down the chasm.
"A pleasant arrival, all things considered," Saladin chirped with a grin as he knocked some dust off his clothes. "Shall we?"
"You don't even need to ask." The pair turned to find a familiar tree. It looked sick, had only a handful of leaves on its wilting branches, and was covered in abandoned insect nests. At a glance, it seemed to be nothing more than a poor plant struggling to survive. However, this sprout held a secret. Without stopping, the pair of them strove forward and walked right through the tree and into a hidden opening. It was an illusion. Immediately, the cold and damp feeling of the outside vanished, melting away into a pleasant warmth like the sun.
"Would you look at that," Grandt said as he held his nose to the air, "looks like they're having a party." It was faint, but they could also make out the distinct sound of laughter.
"Might as well greet our hosts." Upon heading deeper into the hidden alcove, they eventually came across a sizable group of people. "Yo! We've come with more provisions!" The people jumped at his voice but quickly calmed down when they realized who it was.
"Grandt! Saladin! You're finally back!"
"Aww! Did you guys miss us?" In a flash, they were swarmed by a large group of children. Their clothes, while unsurprisingly ragged, were clean, and carried the pleasant scent of oranges. Such happy faces were scarce in Hell, so the pair welcomed them with open arms. This place was a sanctuary, one of the damned souls' many safe houses throughout the realm.
"Sorry we took so long on this one, Halima," Saladin apologized to an elderly woman standing near the back of the crowd.
"You don't need to apologize, my friend," she replied with a grin. "We're thankful that you two are even bothering to help us at all."
"Hearing you say that makes it all worth it."
"That's good to hear!" Every so often tiny communities like this would pop up. Groups of poor souls who committed nonviolent sins—such as heretical families and minor crooks—were quick to band together to survive. Of course, these organizations would usually be hastily found and crushed by Satan's patrols, but Halima's group was special and was able to avoid detection.
"How's the new blood?" Grandt asked as he hoisted one of the children onto his shoulder, his gaze shifting to one of the many offshoots that had been renovated into living quarters.
"They're doing okay, all things considered, though some of them are still confused."
"That's understandable." Saladin shrugged. "Most take a few years to get used to this place, some never do." Thus was the nature of God's dumpster.
"You both made sure you weren't followed, right?" one of the group's hunters asked.
"Obviously. We wouldn't come anywhere near this place if it wasn't safe."
"I see." The man frowned.
"What's his problem?"
"Ah, Grandt, you'll have to forgive him," Halima said as she patted the hunter's back. "This is Edvard, he just joined us earlier this week. As you can probably expect, he still has trouble trusting the two of you."
"Can't blame him for that, sadly." Demons weren't exactly a popular lot amongst the damned. "He'll warm up to us eventually," Grandt chortled as he shook the man's hand. "It's a pleasure to be working with you, Mr. Edvard." After that, the group quickly dispersed, leaving them and Halima alone to discuss business.
"The rations you brought will last us a few more weeks. However, eventually, we'll have to trek back up to the surface. I've heard your kin have been acting up recently, is that true?"
"Well, Satan's certainly been energetic as of late. Although, as far as what her plans are, I can't exactly say." They were just a couple of grunts, after all.
"Didn't she get a new general?"
"One of the vendors mentioned something along those lines, yes." Saladin frowned, it seemed as if all of Hell was moving. "I recommend telling the new folks to keep their heads down, it's going to get dangerous topside soon."
"Dangerous?" Halima chortled. "That just sounds like business as usual for us, but thanks for the warning."
"Anytime," Grandt boasted with a thumbs up as he perched himself atop a large root growing out of the rock. "We'll let you know if things get too dicey."
"Again, we can't thank the two of you enough."
"Please, Halima, there's no need for that. We're in your debt, after all," Saladin said with a smile as the old woman chuckled.
"You two are too honest for your own good."
"Hmph, we try our best." Yet again, a warm feeling filled the cave, making the place, if but only for a moment, seem just like home.
The front door rattled behind Grandt as he walked into their bar's pitiful foyer. The tables and chairs were covered in a thick layer of dust, no doubt thanks to the commotion above knocking it off the rafters. "We'll have to clean again," he complained with a sigh as he collapsed into one of the many tattered couches.
"Already started," Saladin responded as he fetched a broom from behind the bar. "Here," he said as he tossed his partner a damp rag, "Make yourself useful and go wipe down the windows. The regulars will be here soon. God knows we don't want them thinking that we went anywhere."
"Talk about paranoid," Grandt grumbled as he hurried to his chores. Just as he was about to get started, a large cloud of soot came crashing down from the ceiling. "They're really going crazy up there. It hasn't been this bad since Gregorious rolled through on one of his binges."
"Whatever happened to that guy?"
"Oh? I heard he died. Got himself offed by an Angel or something like that."
"Gregorious was beaten in a fight? You're pulling my leg."
"I know, right? That's how I reacted when I first heard the news."
"Well… that crazy bastard had it coming," Saladin muttered right as the front door swung open. "Oh? It's one of our regulars," he thought as he readied the taps. "Same thing as usual, right?"