Fortunately, Azazel was a swift flier, and in a moment, he had crossed the center of the ring-shaped Sigil. In the next instant, the world turned upside down. The city that had been above was now beneath his feet, and the sky where the undead had amassed was now underfoot.
Due to this sudden shift, Azazel's speed increased as he fell headfirst towards the earth.
As he neared the great clock, Azazel righted himself, unfurled his wings, and shouted an arcane passphrase, a series of guttural syllables from a language unknown even to him – the language of devils.
The clock face seemed to vibrate with the power of the incantation, the hands spinning wildly. The fragile fabric of space was torn asunder by the frenzied motion of the clock hands, and a portal to another plane opened before the clock.
Behind Azazel, Skarl was drawing ever closer, his own spellcasting audible even from a distance.
Without hesitation, Azazel flapped his wings with all his might, surging towards the portal like an arrow. Behind him, a dragon's roar resounded, and a tempest of flame cascaded from the heavens, melting buildings in an instant, the air incinerated by the intense heat. This was a Dragon's Breath spell!
Azazel felt the heat on his tail, flames nipping at his heels. He pushed himself to his maximum velocity, but he couldn't escape the inferno's wrath. The portal was within reach, yet the dragon's breath threatened to engulf him.
Could this be the end?
The heat wave closed in.
Azazel wondered if the Dustmen's morticians could restore a body reduced to ash. Probably not, he thought; it seemed a grand funeral was out of the question.
The portal was right there, but he was one step away—a step that determined life or death.
Suddenly, a figure interposed herself between Azazel and the flames, giving him a shove that sent him through the portal.
Azazel looked back to see Caitlyn the Mummy, a chill aura swirling around her, snowflakes even seemed to drift in her presence. She stood between Azazel and the flames, turned her head to say, "I told you, my heart is as cold as winter."
Azazel stared at Caitlyn, at the adorable maggots in her eyes—disgusting, yet he swore they were the most endearing maggots he'd ever seen.
"Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm just doing my job," she quipped.
The portal snapped shut before Azazel, followed by the searing flames that engulfed Caitlyn completely.
He had escaped. To the Prime Material, to the realm of mortals, to his father! Azazel forced himself to think happy thoughts.
I should be happy, right? I should be happy. Caitlyn! I should be happy. She was just a mummy, even if she had the world's most adorable maggots as pets. Despite telling himself this over and over, tears streamed down Azazel's face uncontrollably—
In the "Ferryman's Oar" tavern within Sigil, Many-as-One downed a mug of ale, his vision blurred with intoxication.
"Hey, Many-as-One, why did you lie to that guy?" one of the tavern keeper's heads asked. The other head chimed in, "Yeah, why? Tell us."
"Bah!" Many-as-One belched, looking blankly at Paul and Jack's two heads in confusion. "Lie to who? Who are we talking about?"
"Come on, stop playing dumb, you know. That energetic idiot, the one Judy got her hands on," one head said.
"Did I lie to him?" Many-as-One poured another drink: "Maybe I did lie to him."
"Of course, you did! He wanted to go to the Prime Material, but you sent him through another door. We all know that door leads to Hell, to the war-torn gates. Tell me you didn't take the devil's money for recruiting."
"Sure, I took the money. Why wouldn't I? But I just thought that devils should go where devils belong. Especially at times like these, they shouldn't be wandering around." Finishing his speech, Many-as-One downed his freshly poured ale. Setting down his mug, he stared blankly at the tavern keeper.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" one of the heads asked, slightly unnerved.
"What do you think? Pour me another," the other head said. "As his name implies, Many-as-One. Speaking of which, you still haven't given up on your, uh, dream? What good would one or two more recruits do?"
"Smart!" Many-as-One gave a thumbs-up. "But I'd prefer you say 'ambition' instead of 'dream.' After all, the 'Pillar of Skulls' is built from the skulls of countless devils. Some of the smaller skulls are not much bigger than this mug... Oh no, I stand corrected, the smallest devil skull is still a bit larger than your mugs. They're just too tiny." He frowned, gulping down his last drink. "A multitude is made up of individuals, and that boy is not ordinary. He's special."
"All I see is that he's especially dumb. Sounds perfect for the cannon fodder of the Blood War. What's so special about him?"
"Don't ask me, I have no idea. Just a hunch. Anyway, he's been dragged into the Blood War now, so whatever his specialty is, it's useless. Another round!"
"Wasn't it three drinks? You've had your three."
"Really? That's too bad." Many-as-One licked his lips as he eyed the empty mug. "Well then, pour me three more!"—
In an alley of Sigil, Judy the succubus, once a tavern wench, was changing her clothes. She slipped out of the black dress and white apron of her bar uniform, donning a plaid dress, white stockings, and small leather boots. Once Judy finished dressing, her red hair had turned golden, her horns vanished from her head, her wings hidden from sight. In just a moment, she had transformed from a succubus into a freckled human girl.
"What should I call myself? Let's stick with Susan. I like that name." With that, Judy disappeared from the world, and of course, if needed, she could reappear at any time.
Suddenly, a magical stone floated out from her chest, a black gemstone identical to the red one she had given Azazel, except for its color.
The gem flashed a few times, then a scene played out before Susan—now her chosen name—a stream of blood flowing gently in a painting, the skies stained red, and a ghastly white towering structure known infamously as the 'Pillar of Skulls.' It was the very vision of Hell that Azazel had seen.
Then the red gemstone shattered, and the scene vanished.
This wasn't just any token of affection; it was a 'Scrying Stone,' a rare magical gem sold in pairs. Its worth lay in the 'Shadow Stone's' ability to transmit an image to the 'Memory Stone' across planes—a single-use feature, but impressive nonetheless.
These stones were popular among planar explorers. However, the catch was that the 'Shadow Stone' only functioned when carried by an intelligent being.
Thus, planar explorers typically employed the stones by tricking, coercing, or somehow convincing a fool to carry the 'Shadow Stone' and then sending them through an unknown portal.
What lies beyond the portal? That's anyone's guess, but the 'Memory Stone' would tell you.
Now the Memory Stone had informed Susan that Azazel's destination was Hell.
Susan sneered, "I knew it. If Many-as-One ever kindly tells you the only answer, he's definitely up to no good. Three answers—one takes you where you belong. Hah, indeed? Devils belong in Hell. One takes you somewhere unknown, and one takes you to the opposite place."
Just as Many-as-One enjoyed doing, his words often contained a lie, a truth, and an uncertainty. It was for you to discern. The unknown door was the uncertainty; the door leading to Hell was the lie; hence, the last one must be the truth.
A place the complete opposite of Hell—that would be a devil's paradise, the mortal realm.
Surely not Heaven? Susan still felt uneasy. For a devil, Heaven was just as undesirable as Hell. So, the chance was slim, but not impossible. In such times, one simply had to gamble.
Susan muttered the arcane incantation and then began searching. She knew the portal was near, but Many-as-One hadn't specified its exact location.
Beneath her feet, a glow emanated from the sewer grate in the alley. A portal opened, and with a shriek, Susan plunged through, hoping against hope that whether Heaven or mortal realm, the exit wouldn't also be the entrance of a sewer—
The complex emotions in Azazel's heart didn't last long. The adrenaline of survival and the shock of Caitlyn's last-minute rescue were quickly supplanted by an even greater bewilderment and astonishment.
When Azazel burst through the portal—his rear end on fire and his cheeks streaked with tears—he was greeted by this world.
Beneath his feet, the black scorched earth emitted a faint warmth; the landscape was strewn with rubble. The sky looked as though it had been soaked in blood and then wrung out, presenting a pale, ghastly red. The dim red sun hung lazily on the horizon, casting a feeble glow across the land. Beside him flowed a creek, its blood-red waters meandering into the distance. Azazel closed his eyes and took a deep breath; there was no mistaking the scent—it was blood, not water.
In the distance stood a ghastly tower, its height dwarfing any structure Azazel had ever seen, reminiscent of the Tower of Babel reaching for the heavens. He estimated it to be at least three times the height of the Empire State Building.
Approaching was an armored devil, walking with deliberate steps toward him.
Azazel's confusion turned to anger.
Damn it! The mortal realm doesn't look like this! This isn't the mortal realm! This is Hell! This is the damned Hell! Damn it, I've been sent to Hell! Many-as-One, that bastard, deceived me! In his fury, Azazel failed to notice the red gemstone in his pouch cracking with a tiny snap.
It was Judy's parting gift.
"Hey, newbie! Welcome to 'The Scorched Layer.' The first level of the Seven Hells!" The devil shouted from afar. "Look at you, all emotional and crying. Just stand there, don't bother running. The portal that delivered you is one-way."
Azazel, now filled with ire at the realization that he was indeed in Hell, had not yet grasped the full scope of his predicament or the implications of the shattered gemstone that once connected him to the succubus named Judy.