Amanai, son of Ruk, You're condemned!" The words reverberated across the space, and the clouds part to swallow Amanai.
He tried to escape the gaping beneath, his eyes darting for a place to land to once he was in the air after a jump, but there was no such place. All there was was a darkness, a swallowing darkness and he screamed as he fell, his voice drowned by the depths.
It felt like an eternity. His regalia didn't billow as he fell for there was no wind.
Was the path to the netherworld so far, was hell so deep?
After what seemed like months, Amanai began to feel a certain warmth. His eyes had been closed ever since he contained his screams.
He managed to turn, with his front facing the bottom.
There it was. Lines of fire that spread across a thick surface like cracks on shattered glass.
He squinted his eyes for the light was so bright, who knew the netherworld held such brightness? It has always been described as a dark webby place of eternal suffering and servitude.
The entrance however seemed almost as bright as the place Amanai had just left.
At the center of the surface, from where the cracks ran was a hole, a large hole that spat our liquid fire constantly.
That was where Amanai was headed. Once he was close, he criss-crossed his arms around his body as his last bid to protect himself, and closed his eyes.
At that moment, an emotion long distant to him surfaced: fear.
He fell into the fiery lake and sunk into it, the lake offering no resistance against him and absorbing him into itself.
Amanai slowly opened his eyes once he realized he hadn't been scorched to nothing. His world had changed.
He was at the other side now, at the gates of the netherworld.
He looked below and saw that he was standing. His beautiful sandals and regalia still on him.
However, what was rather strange was the unending rows of skulls bathed in their blood that served as the ground. Thin pieces of skin were latched on them, and as strange as they seemed, Mark could tell that many of them were faces of men.
His heart almost jumped, but he steeled himself. Years of killing and pillaging didn't undo his instincts, it only subdued them.
He raised his right leg, and the surface where it was moved. The faces moved and writhed, hinting that his feet had discomforted them.
Amanai picked this and hesitated on putting his feet back down, but he couldn't have his feet up forever, especially not when he was just about to be received by the lords of hell.
The large black gates opened, letting how a strange mist that hid gigantic figures within it.
Amanai didn't have to move, he was soon in their midst and through the gates, as it space was cleaved and he was thrust forward.
His eyes were to the ground, and though he still exhibited some functions of the human body, he didn't sweat, he couldn't despite the hellish heat that came from everywhere.
"Great uniter…" A sickly dry voice announced.
Amanai's eyes were still to the ground.
"We bid you a welcome." Another voice said, this one louder and a lot more commanding, and Amanai was tempted to look up.
There he saw, three gigantic figures of red and black on seats of bones and metals.
The one at the center where Amanai's eyes were fixated at was a massive demon of a rotend figure. Its belly was as large as its entire body, its neck threatening to spill from its skin, and it had arms so long that they seemed like they could reach the ends of the netherworld.
The other to the left was a shriveled looking thing, massive like the others but bearing a strong resemblance to a village hag. It was uncannily human looking, with large black eyeballs and yellow pupils.
It had six large saggy tits that rested on its leg, and Amanai was forced to turn to the other.
This one was the strangest. It was like a giant bar of black metal with pieces of muscles attached to it. Bumps were over its stretched and taut skin. It's upper body was one, like a bar of iron, and it's limbs were sickly looking tentacles of red. It was the ugliest.
They all were and despite the fear that Amanai had and hid, he cringed in disgust as well.
"You've been the most useful to our cause. Souls upon souls were sent here crying your name, hungry to enact their revenge once you came… Worry not, I'm certain they would pose no real challenge to you. Especially as our herald. Your soul has the spiritual energy, no, even more than enough, you're overflowing with it, almost close to…" It stopped, it was the rotend fat one that spoke, the one that looked light a nightmarish personification of gluttony, its voice deep and all encompassing.
"Herald?" Amanai repeated, confused. He knew what an herald was, but was unsure of what the demon lord meant, what do they need an herald for?
"Yes, herald." The one with the tits answered and Amanai felt his skin crawl from the sound of its voice.
"You'll become a commander of legions of damned worthy of being soldiers. You'll be second, only to us. Know this, there are other heralds as well, and though it's expected you lot cooperate, it's not necessary, our place is known for its anarchist structure afterall. You'll fit in."
Amanai remained silent for a couple of minutes, deep in ponder and his eyes opened widely.
"Well…" the one that was like a metal bar interjected his thoughts.
"What is your decision, Amanai, son of Ruk?"
He found himself momentarily distracted by a writhing face just before him. He had heard stories of the netherworld, everywhere knew it to be terrible, but not even he imagined that it was going to be this terrible and ugly, and it was only the entrance, what more awaited? What ugliness is beyond the gates? He couldn't even begin to imagine it.
No, this place wasn't for him. He might have killed hundreds of thousands, but he didn't belong with their damned souls, especially not to represent creatures this grotesque.
There was only one answer, and it resounded in his mind.
"No" his voice unknowingly loud, and his fists clenched.