On Friday night, Eris has trouble falling asleep — she keeps turning over in bed.
To Eris, being awake at night without being productive equates to a waste of time — so, Eris gets up in the middle of the night and takes a seat on the windowsill where she can read under the moonlight.
If she were to turn on the light, surely her mother would notice, and that's the last thing Eris wants.
With the advanced physics' book in her lap, Eris' thoughts begin to wander and an ominous feeling wedges itself into her stomach, like a knife.
At seven in the morning, Eris gets her usual daily greeting from Nikki. It makes Eris smile, despite having caught only about three hours of sleep.
Soon after, Dai's text flashes bright on the screen, coaxing another smile out of her. Eris types out a quick reply.
E: We wouldn't miss it for the world. See you then
The little, happy emoticon would never reach Dai, but Eris doesn't know yet.
Along with the blood splattered on the ground, on the black asphalt, the emoticon disappears into the void, just like Dai's life.
And yet, life for everyone else goes on.
With her favorite hoodie on, the one with the bunny ears and paws, Eris meets Nikki for breakfast at their favorite café, she laughs at a silly comment Nikki makes about the bartender, ignorant of the pain that the world is about to unleash on her, on them.
The first thing they hear is the gasps of the other customers in the café. Then, as Nikki focuses on the news being shown on the small TV that the owner keeps on top of the old fridge, his eyes widen, he goes dead silent.
"Nikki?"
"... Eris… fuck… Eris… look at the TV," Nikki mutters.
A reporter from the scene of an accident near the circuit speaks of a terrible tragedy, a young man who lost his life just when he was about to compete in the most important race of his career.
With a passive face, the reporter says that their thoughts and prayers are with him and his family.
For quite a long while, Nikki and Eris can't find words; they stare at their cup of coffees in silence, still like statues, letting the breeze come in from the open window and caress their skin, as though it wanted to comfort them.
With eyes empty and hollow, both of them look up to seek the other's gaze and their lips part slightly, as if they want to say something, but nothing comes out of their mouth.
Their first meeting with death came too unexpectedly, too tragically, and for the first time in their life, reality crumbles and goodness is lost.
Life can be the cruelest gift.
In another story and another life, there's an entity with no name, an entity which should not be named under any circumstances.
Most people call them God, but they don't really care what names people give them.
However, at some point in time, out of habit, they began to call themselves God as well.
God had taken the appearance of a short man with ash-blonde hair, after an interesting human, whose life they had followed on Earth for a little while, many, many years ago.
In their honor, God decided to steal their look and has never changed it. They're too comfortable with it now.
They grew fond of the scar that travels along their cheek from below the left eyelid until their jawline, giving them a look that most humans would call badass.
With their pointed eyebrows that give them a perpetual ill-bearing look, God could easily play the part of a villain in a blockbuster movie; they learned long ago that humans give a lot of importance to appearances and villains need to look the part.
Perhaps the most confusing part of the look they have chosen is that they look young, when in reality they're millennia old.
To make matters worse, God has developed an appreciation for a genre of music that humans like to call Black Metal, which most of the time has lyrics which are a direct insult to them.
During their reign, God has changed where they live a myriad of times — but humans still love to call their residence with the name of Heaven, as some divine place where the dead should aspire to go. In reality, it's a desolate place and it's rare that a soul makes it there.
A long time ago, God lived in a land called Eden, fairytale-like and beautiful, but now that place is gone.
Centuries ago, a war between different classes of Angels broke out, leaving only destruction in its stead.
Many angels died during the war, including God's faithful scribe, Metatron, who up until now has never been replaced.
If God thinks back on it now, like most wars, it could have been avoided. Other than human deaths, the angels' deaths also weigh on their shoulders.
And to think that stopping one angel would have been enough. Only recalling the angel's name brings back an ache that God would rather bury deep inside the remotest corner of their everlasting soul.
As a result of that war, the land where God now resides is barren, a wasteland. The trees die quickly and the rivers are putrid: the stench of death permeates everything.
One of the rivers serves as a gate of Heaven, where the reapers come to gather up the recently deceased.
Because of its murky color, slime-like quality, and of its distinctive scent, everyone calls it the Black River. Although it would seem reasonable to avoid it at all costs, God has never lost their curiosity and takes a stroll along the riverside every few days.
Today is no different.
Samael, sometimes called the Angel of Death, one of the oldest and most experienced reapers in the whole realm, has just picked up a soul, whose bright aura piques God's interest.
It's been a while since a soul has shone so brightly upon death.
As Samael gives the soul their human appearance back and dresses her in a simple white dress, the same given to all other souls, God observes the golden of the soul's hair, the way its curls bounce up and down, as if alive themselves.
The contrast between the soul's outfit and Samael's makes for a striking clash of black and white.
Perhaps humans would be alarmed upon seeing how Samael chooses to present themselves, far from the artistic representation in those idyllic or romantic Renaissance paintings of Angels.
A long time ago, Samael found their favorite outfit and has never changed it since: a black leather corset, so tight that most humans would find it hard to breathe, paired with black leather shorts and knee-high stilettos.
Without looking up, Samael senses that they have a visitor and they smile to themselves.
"What brings you to this humble river, Master?"
God holds back a snicker, crouching down next to the Angel of Death and lifting the soul's chin up with their fingers, as though inspecting if she's damaged.
It's very unusual for God to interact with a soul like that; Samael's eyes glint with amusement.
"You like this one?"
God doesn't answer them, so they add:
"She's an odd little egg, this one."
"Why do you say that?" God asks, keeping their fingers on the soul's chin.
"Hmm… how can I put it, she… has been intimate with men, but her soul is untainted. It's like she's never committed any sins."
"Hm," God only offers as an answer. There's something that intrigues them about this soul, but they can't say what it is.
It's not the first time an innocent human being dies without having committed any sins, and that's maybe more tragic than having committed sins while keeping a soul free from any impurities.
But, it's indeed rare. God cannot remember when is the last time that something like this has happened.
"Do you want me to wake her up?"
God shakes their head.
"What's her name?"
"It's Ruri. Isn't it a pretty name?"
"That's a pretty name," God agrees.
Samael sneaks a glance at God, amused by how they seem fascinated by the new soul. When is the last time they got to tease God like this?
"Would you like to keep her? I can give her to you."
"To do what?" God finally releases their hold on the soul, raising an eyebrow at Samael.
Samael's expression turns sour, almost full of sorrow. "To save her from cannibalism," they say quietly.
Those words may seem blunt but it's the sad and terrible truth of the way Heaven works today; it's nothing more than a survival game.
God has lost count of the souls and of how many humans die in the mortal realm.
Heaven no longer offers redemption to whoever stumbles into it. What once was a safe haven where everyone aspired to be accepted after death, it's now become something to be avoided.
It's much better to end up in Purgatory and obtain a new life.
Maybe, even Hell is more welcoming these days — God thinks.
In this Heaven, souls become vagabonds, uncaring of their kind, hollow ghosts who forget what they once were.
The more they forget their humanity, the more violent they become, oftentimes hunting and feeding on each other for survival.
After the war, too many Angels died and there were nowhere near enough to control and guide the souls.
Throughout the once heavenly landscape, rotten corpses and bones lay in place of flowers and plants.
The smell of blood and decay overpowers the sweet scent which dominated Eden in the past.
To make it worse, among the Angels that were left, God can only trust two of them: Samael and Ramiel.
However, Ramiel is a loner and often goes into seclusion for centuries upon centuries.
Would it be so bad to have someone else that they can talk to? Someone else that they can lead into the Angelic path?
And so, God decides to save Ruri and keep her for themselves.
Samael is pleased when God agrees — finally something different happens.
"Let me wake her up for you."
Ruri struggles to open her eyes, a lonely tear falls down her cheek — it's warm and unwelcome.
Above her is a blinding white sky, cloudless and sunless.
How weird is that?
But that's not the only strange thing; Ruri's limbs feel like lead, like they don't belong to her body, like she's underwater.
Slowly, Ruri brings her fingers to her lips — she's not breathing. Fuck.
What's going on?
Then, she remembers. Hands around her throat, squeezing violently until she exhaled the last breath.
In a frenzied panic, Ruri sits up and lets out a strangled gasp.
"Hello," someone beside her says.
The world spins around her, the surroundings look so unfamiliar to her and when she turns to look at the person who just spoke, she's met by the strangest pair of people she's even seen: a girl with a leather fetish and a short, little guy with a scar bigger than his own face.
Both of them are watching her as if she were a lab rat.
"Where am I? Who are you?" Ruri's voice sounds so weak, even to herself.
"You're in Heaven," God says.
Ruri's eyes go wide. Surely, she must have misheard. "...what?"
"You died, you're in Heaven," Samael clarifies.
What the actual fuck. What? Are these people crazy? Even if she were dead, why the hell would she go to Heaven? Her?!
"Hah, right," Ruri scoffs.
"You don't believe us?" Samael asks.
"Huh, obviously I don't," Ruri answers, waiting for an explanation or better yet, waiting to wake up from this terrible nightmare.
God and Samael share a look, as if to say that the soul can do as she pleases and they really couldn't care less.
However, Ruri is still stuck on both parts of that sentence.
First, she is dead. Apparently.
Second, this horrid place is Heaven and she has been accepted there. Apparently.
According to Ruri's simple understanding of how most religions in the mortal world are supposed to work, one is supposed to be free of sins or to have been of service to a God in order to enter such a special place. Ruri didn't do either.
She even died in such an atrocious, horrifying way — hopefully that bastard got what he deserved. If not caught by the police, then she hopes her brother cut his dick off.
Ah, Ruri misses her brother terribly. But, back to the question at hand.
"I was in the middle of getting fucked when I was killed…," Ruri finally decides to say, then pauses for a second to think of how to finish that sentence, "...he killed me... to death."
"We're aware," Samael chuckles.
"... and… and I'm shallow. Like the shallowest person alive," Ruri adds.
"You're dead," God reminds her for a third time.
Rolling her eyes, Ruri attempts to get up and look at what she's wearing — she doesn't remember owning such a dress. It's so plain and simple, like a sack of potatoes; it makes her look shapeless and with small boobs. Who dressed her with such poor taste?
Ruri lets out a disappointed sigh, pinching the sides of the dress to check how to make it look better.
God looks concerned.
"Is there something wrong with the dress?"
The look Ruri gives clearly tells God they're stupid. Are they blind? Did they not notice how ugly this dress is?
"Yes, this dress is ugly. Also, can I get a push-up bra?"
God blinks.
"Uh, Samael, can that be done?"
"Why would you need a bra in Heaven?" Samael asks, narrowing their eyes in doubt.
Ruri stares them down with another are you stupid look. "And why do you need a corset? If you can have a corset, why can't I have a push-up bra?"
"Fair enough," Samael agrees, their lips pressed into a tight line.
With a snap of their fingers, Samael gives Ruri a push-up bra and tightens the dress around the waist.
That's much better, Ruri thinks. Now both her boobs and her ass look presentable and Ruri is pleased enough to give Samael a nod of approval.
Then, it occurs to her that she still doesn't know who these people are.
"So, who are you two?"
"I'm an Angel, my name is Samael," Samael answers politely, resting an elbow on God's shoulder.
"I'm what or who you people call God," is what God simply says.
God? Ruri isn't entirely convinced. How is that possible? She just died and she's already met God? Why would they come to personally greet her? It's not like she's famous.
Ruri furrows her eyebrows and looks them up and down. This God is so… small.
"You're ...uh ...short."
Samael pinches the bridge of their nose to stop themselves from laughing out loud. Oh, how many times they have told God to change their appearance, this one is too boring.
Underneath their elbow, Samael can feel God seethe in anger. That's so satisfying.
"You want to go back to that murky river?!" God snaps, effectively shutting Ruri up.
Slow, like a broken music box ballerina, Ruri attempts to step forward, but her body is so heavy. It takes her so long to take just one step. Stretching out her neck to try and look at her reflection on the water, Ruri sighs. The water is too dirty — she can't see anything.
"Can I have a mirror?"
"We have no mirrors in Heaven," God tells her.
Ruri faints.
No one makes a move to catch Ruri before she hits the ground with a loud thud. God looks at her fall and tilts their head slightly to one side, not sure if they fully grasp what just happened.
"I'm not sure I want her anymore," God says, concerned about her sanity.
"Tough. She's already yours. Have fun," Samael remains firm in their decision.
God lets out an uneasy laugh, "I'm sure you can make an exception."
"I'm fair, above all. No exceptions, even for you."
"You're so fucking annoying," God spits out.
"And yet, here I am, your most trusted Angel."
Finding themselves unable to argue with that, God rolls their eyes and gathers Ruri up in their arms to bring her back to their residence, implying acceptance of their deal.
With a smile, Samael smooths Ruri's hair with their thin fingers, whose sharp black nails give them the illusion of being endlessly long, and brands Ruri as God's.
Somewhere far away, another soul who has recently departed the mortal realm finds itself in an unfamiliar place.
Perhaps, if someone were to see such a landscape upon waking up, it would evoke certain romantic emotions, as it's similar to those paintings of cliffs and mountains where the sky takes a dark shade of pink and where the clouds are gray and rare.
As if painted by a God with their delicate hand, the mountains sparkle with a shade of rose that distinctively recalls pink quartz, and the ground is paved with smooth gray marble, polished and without any cracks in sight.
However, it seems to be a desolate place, with no signs of greenery or of any living being.
Instead of trees, giant spherical rocks seem to grow from the ground, with root-like chains.
Chained to one of these, the recently departed soul wakes up alone, just like the day they died.
Their eyes meet nothing but gray and pink.
The last thing they remember is a passerby's horrified expression as they take a step forward to cross the road. Then, a glimpse of a truck coming at him, and then darkness.
Is he dead? What is this place?
As more and more awareness drifts back into him, Dai begins to look around and notices that both his hands and feet are chained to a weird, colossal rock. Pulling at the chains brings no results, how can he get out of these?
Out of the corner of his eyes, Dai spots a key, which is tucked underneath a smaller rock and seems to be close enough that if he stretches his arms as far as he can, he should be able to reach it.
With the key, Dai manages to free himself, and now that he is on his feet, he takes a better look around, which doesn't give him much hope. This land is barren — there's nothing as far as he can see.
At this point, Dai isn't sure anymore — is this a prank? In any case, the only way through is forward, or that's what he's always told himself, and so he keeps walking. Sooner or later, he will encounter something different, a clue, will he not?
After hours of walking around aimlessly, the only things Dai came across are a skull, some bones, more rocks, and a leaf, which is about the only item giving him hope.
If there's a leaf then there must be a tree, somewhere hidden in this godforsaken place.
Although how can a tree grow from this ground, which seems to be all marble and stone?
Maybe the leaf is part of the prank? Or maybe Dai is dreaming, or hallucinating. That's also a possibility.
However, it turns out to be the truth. As Dai quickens his pace, patches of green appear to grow closer and closer, finally taking the shape of some sparse apple trees.
Once close enough to stand underneath one of the trees, Dai realizes that more chains are attached to it, as if growing from its old roots.
At the end of the chain, there's a man, with his hands tied behind his back, who is wearing nothing but a dirty rag to cover his modesty.
Like in a slow motion sequence, the stranger lifts his head to look at Dai — his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, like small wings. A strange sense of foreboding overtakes Dai when the stranger lays eyes on him; his eyes are sunken into the hollow cavities of his face, a small smile plays at the corner of his lips.
When the stranger speaks, his voice is mellow but rough from disuse, "Hi, handsome."
Startled by the flirty way in which he's just been addressed by a half-naked stranger, Dai takes a step back, accidentally hitting something dangling from the tree.
It's a key.
It suddenly dawns on Dai that the key must be the one this man can use to free himself. So close yet so far away.
Who would be so cruel as to force a man to stare closely at a salvation that he's not allowed to have?
Dai doesn't dare touch it, nor does he dare to step closer to the stranger again. Perhaps, the best course of action is to leave.
But as soon as Dai turns away, the stranger speaks again.
This time, his tone of voice pleads for mercy.
"Please… don't leave."
And so, throwing caution to the wind, Dai shoots the stranger a quick glance and asks him what he can do to help.
"I'll give you anything you want," the stranger begs, his tone of voice suggestive and his eyes blood-red, "... just help me get that key."
Surely, there must be a reason for this man to be punished in such a cruel way. And even if Dai's already dead, he shouldn't cause trouble, wherever it is that he ended up.
Shouldn't he?
"...I don't think I want anything from you."
"Anything," the stranger repeats, never leaving Dai's eyes, "What you desire the most will be yours."
Dai shudders under the intensity of the stranger's gaze and he relents, "...can you answer a few questions, first?"
The stranger smiles — Dai has never found any man beautiful before, but there's something about this stranger that he wouldn't describe as anything else other than an ethereal beauty.
"... where am I? What's this place?"
"Ah," the stranger's smile turns bitter, a wistful expression flickers through his eyes for a moment, "... this is Purgatory. You're dead, but it seems that your death was unfair or that you have some unfinished business in the mortal world. So, here you are."
The fact that he's dead doesn't surprise Dai, what surprises him the most is that there's something after death. Nodding at the answer, another question comes to mind.
"... what do you mean, here I am? What happens in this place?"
"If you complete a number of tribulations, then you'll get a second chance at life."
Dai runs a hand through his hair, taking a moment to think of what the stranger has just said.
"Hmm, fair," he says, "... and who are you?"
"I'm Lucifer, an Angel. You might have heard of me in your mortal world."
Not an expert in the matter of Angels or religion in general, Dai blinks. Sure, he's heard of Lucifer, but was he an angel? Isn't he supposed to be a demon?
"Alright, alright, I'm ignorant and stupid… but I'm not that stupid to fall for such a lie."
"You don't believe me."
"Why should I? What if getting past you is one of my tribulation things?"
Surprisingly, that question pulls a quiet laugh out of the stranger (Lucifer).
"You're funny, I like that in a man."
"Hah, I've been told I'm charming."
Lucifer glances up at the key, then he tries again.
"Let me put it another way. If you go through the tribulations, then you'll get the chance to be reborn but you'll lose your memories. What I can offer you instead is another life, along with your memories, in exchange for my freedom."
If there's one thing that Dai has learned in his short stint as a living human being, it's that nothing comes for free. "What's the catch?"
"Your life will be only as long as the years you have lived in your past life. You look quite young, so I'm assuming it would be a short life."
If Lucifer is telling the truth, Dai would get nineteen years to win the World Championship, like he's always dreamed of. He would get many more years of being able to ride his bike. And, he would be able to see how his friends are doing.
That's a tempting offer.
"How do I know you're not lying?"
"Would I tell you about the downside if I were lying? Wouldn't it be easier to just trick you into accepting?"
That's also true and Dai cannot find fault with this way of thinking.
"You don't have a great reputation among humans," Dai tells him with a little smirk.
"I'm greatly misunderstood."
Alright, Dai will give him that — he is funny. That does make him laugh out loud, and giving his explicit agreement, Dai grabs the key dangling from the tree.
If one were to ask Lucifer for how long he has been chained to that rock, or how long it has been since he talked to somebody, he wouldn't know how to answer. It's been so terribly long.
God's face became a distant memory, blurry and beautifully sacred.
The chains around Lucifer's wrists and ankles have been crafted by God's divine hands to keep Lucifer far away from them.
To make matters worse, whenever he looked up, the key was the first thing his eyes would lay upon, to remind Lucifer that angels shouldn't pursue freedom and they should not think for themselves. An angel's only purpose is to serve God, to be their soldier.
The final seconds of his captivity seem to last even longer, like an eternity. When the key clicks into place, Lucifer sheds a tear.