Krieg lounged nonchalantly on a crumbling stone bench, his urban streetwear and skull-patterned ski mask a stark contrast to the divine imagery towering above him. The statue he leaned against depicted a god wielding a lightning bolt, its regal demeanor frozen in weathered stone. The juxtaposition of the mundane and the divine encapsulated the surreal environment of this place, a realm that defied both reason and expectation.

  Despite his obscured face, Krieg's casual demeanor exuded a bizarre sense of ease. He gazed at the passing crowd with a stupidly amused expression beneath his mask, muttering to himself, “You know... if this is Hell, then why are there so many humans here? I mean, I see monsters too, but everyone’s acting like this is just some regular city on Earth.”

  The streets bustled with activity. Humans mingled with creatures that defied description. A couple argued over coffee, their heated exchange punctuated by the occasional flicker of spectral flames. A vendor peddled shimmering trinkets to a trio of floating, translucent figures. The atmosphere was uncanny—eerily familiar yet deeply unsettling.

  Krieg tilted his head, his voice dripping with irony. “It’s giving me uncanny valley vibes, man.” He shook his head slightly, as if trying to dismiss his unease. The mask hid his frown, but his discomfort was evident in his posture.

  “Must you always be spacing out?” A sharp, exasperated voice cut through his musings.

  Krieg turned to see Brannelle Virant, his companion in this hellish domain. She was a striking figure, dressed in a dark purple gown trimmed with fur at the edges, her flowing blonde hair framing a pale, otherworldly face. Her eyes, red as blood rubies, sparkled with intelligence and irritation. The wight demon’s ethereal claws glinted faintly in the twilight, a constant reminder of her otherworldly nature.

  “Sigh… At a time like this, you could take your situation a little more seriously,” Brannelle chastised, her tone icy.

  Krieg shrugged. “I’m serious enough. Just serious about chilling out. What’s the rush? This place is… weirdly interesting.”

  Brannelle’s lips thinned, but she let his irreverence slide. “This is Limbo. Contrary to what you might expect, it’s not a fiery pit of despair. It’s a waiting room, a vast, gray expanse caught between dusk and dawn. Those who find themselves here are… unclaimed.” She gestured toward the wandering souls around them. “Spirits adrift, searching for meaning, for closure. Forever lost unless they find their way.”

  Krieg leaned back, crossing his arms. “So, what’s the plan? Start a revolution? Find a magic door back to Earth? Or just sit here and wait for my boss to figure everything out?”

  Brannelle’s frustration flared, but before she could reply, a dark portal erupted into existence before them. Its swirling edges pulsated with energy, drawing the eye and bending the air around it. The pull was palpable, like gravity itself had shifted.

  Krieg chuckled, standing up with exaggerated nonchalance. “Looks like our ride’s here.”

  Brannelle’s eyes narrowed. “Is this why you’ve been lazing about? Waiting for someone else to do the hard work?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Krieg admitted without shame. “I knew if my boss was down here too, he’d be the one to do all the heavy lifting. I just had to sit tight until the summons showed up. And now, here it is. C’mon, let’s see where this thing leads.”

  Brannelle sighed but followed without protest. As the portal’s pull grew stronger, Krieg stepped forward, his body language as casual as if he were boarding a subway train. “Hell’s got its perks,” he said, his voice muffled through the mask but tinged with amusement. “You just gotta know how to wait for the right moment.”

  Brannelle cast one last glance at the somber faces of the wandering souls. “Perhaps,” she murmured. “But not everyone has the luxury of waiting. Let’s hope your faith in your so-called boss isn’t misplaced.”

  Together, they stepped into the swirling vortex, leaving the surreal urban expanse behind. The portal’s energy enveloped them, its pull both ominous and promising. As the world dissolved into chaos, Krieg couldn’t help but laugh, the sound echoing into the void.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Let’s see what’s next,” he said, his tone filled with reckless excitement.

  Meanwhile…

  The battlefield stretched endlessly, a graveyard of discarded weapons and fallen warriors. The earth was saturated with blood, and the air reeked of iron and smoke. The sky above burned a fiery red, casting an ominous glow over the chaos below. The mud underfoot squelched with every step, as though the ground itself mourned the countless lives lost. This was no ordinary warzone—it was a visceral testament to the clash of ideals, a place where valor and sacrifice had left indelible scars on the earth.

  Among the wreckage, Hana crouched behind a crumbling wall, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The cacophony of battle surrounded her—the clang of steel, the cries of the wounded, the guttural roars of monstrous foes. This was not a war with defined sides; it was chaos incarnate, a maelstrom of carnage where survival outweighed allegiance. She clutched a makeshift dagger, its jagged edge a grim reminder of her desperation. A combat knife or a sword might have given her more confidence, but in this hellscape, any weapon would suffice.

  Hana’s heart pounded in her chest as she scanned the horizon. The battlefield was a shifting mosaic of fire and fury, shadows darting amidst the ruins. Her gaze settled on a figure she recognized, her only companion in this forsaken realm. The figure moved with purpose, blood-soaked armor glinting in the hellish light. It was Nagai, the Ochimusha—a dead samurai demon. Her long black hair was tied up but still cascaded down her back, her pallid skin and dead-like fish eyes giving her an otherworldly presence. Despite the chaos, she exuded a quiet, determined grace.

  Hana waved frantically. “Nagai! Over here!”

  The samurai demon turned, her bloodied katana gleaming in her hand, and made her way toward Hana.

  “I thought the path to the Demon God’s Castle wouldn’t be this treacherous,” Hana called out, her voice tinged with frustration.

  Nagai’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Perhaps it wouldn’t have been, had someone not insisted on taking the ‘shorter’ path.”

  Hana groaned. “Okay, fine! My sense of direction is terrible. But how was I supposed to know we’d end up in the middle of a battlefield?” She paused, her expression shifting. “Still, I can’t deny it’s exhilarating. The fear, the adrenaline… I’ve never felt more alive! Here, I get to choose how I fight, how I die. Unlike back on Earth, where I was just a pathetic chew toy for some damn mutts.”

  Her voice rose with excitement. “Here, I have power! YAHOO!”

  Nagai shook her head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her eyes. “Your spirit is admirable, but we shouldn’t linger in a war that has no end. We have a mission, and we must reach the other side of this path.”

  Hana grinned, her confidence unshaken. “Then let’s bulldoze our way through! No one’s stopping us!”

  Nagai’s smile grew sharper. “Very well. Let’s see this through together.”

  With a shared nod, the duo plunged into the fray. Hana’s movements were fueled by raw determination, her newfound battleaxe carving through the nightmarish creatures that lunged at her. Each swing was a burst of dark essence, the monsters crumbling to ash upon contact. Nagai moved with calculated precision, her katana slicing through foes with a grace that seemed almost effortless. Together, they were an unstoppable force, their synergy growing stronger with each passing moment.

  “Careful!” Nagai called out as a massive, horned creature loomed behind Hana. Without hesitation, she unleashed a precise energy slash, cutting the beast down before it could strike.

  “Thanks!” Hana shouted, her grin never faltering. “I had it under control, but I’ll give you this one.”

  The landscape shifted as they fought their way forward. Rivers of molten lava snaked through the terrain, the heat growing almost unbearable. Yet they pressed on, their resolve unwavering. Finally, they reached a narrow bridge of obsidian spanning a chasm of swirling darkness. Beyond it lay a cavern, its entrance framed by jagged rock formations.

  “We’re almost there,” Hana panted, her gaze fixed on the cavern. “Just a little further.”

  Before they could cross, a massive vortex erupted before them, its swirling energy pulling at the very fabric of reality. The air crackled with unspoken power, and the ground trembled beneath their feet.

  “Looks like our ride is here!” Hana exclaimed, gripping her weapon tightly.

  Nagai raised an eyebrow. “So this is why you were so nonchalant earlier?”

  Hana shrugged. “I knew if my boss was in Hell, he’d figure it all out and send for me. I just had to wait for the summons.” She grinned. “C’mon, let’s see where this leads!”

  The portal’s pull grew stronger, tugging at their very souls. With a final glance at each other, they leapt into the vortex, their forms swallowed by the swirling chaos. The world around them twisted and blurred, the cacophony of sounds and colors overwhelming their senses. Yet through the maelstrom, they felt a surge of exhilaration—a reminder that they were alive, defiant, and unbroken.

  And just as suddenly as it began, the chaos subsided. Silence fell, and a new landscape began to take shape around them.