The Grim Game

The content of this page is relevant to the Nu Timeline.

## Chapter 1: Grieve

A consciousness awakens groggily, to be faced with darkness. He is a face, and a single emanation of light, surrounded by a void of blackness. He has a pale, freckled face, strong green eyes, and messy, fluffy black hair. He appears to be an adult gridmask.

He is none other than Emporer Ramus de Gridmasque.

He realizes that he has no memory of how he got where he is now, or what has happened to him, though his recent awakening lowers his perception of emotion to react to this.

"Wh... where am I?" Ramus demands, suddenly filled with a natural sense of his perplexing environment.

"You're dead. Oh, wait... you said "where am I", not "what"." A voice plainly states to him, from within the darkness. "I just got carried away with myself, wanting to make that announcement"

Ramus looks over to the source of the voice, only to see a hooded figure wearing a dark cloak. Ramus can see part of the figure's face in an unclear portion, reflecting a feint white light.

"Welcome to Hell, Emporer Ramus." The figure simply states. "I hope you enjoy your stay."

Ramus is rendered speechless, and simply stares at the figure. Eventually, he musters up the ability to speak again.

"This... this is... Hell...?" Ramus questions the figure.

"Yes, this is the outer layer of Hell." The figure responds.

"I'm... here because... I died...?" Ramus asks apprehensively.

"Yes, you did die and were sent here." The figure answers.

"I... I d-don't..." Ramus stammers, searching for the right words.

"I'm sure you must have many questions plaguing your mind; such as, "how did I die" and "why was I sent to Hell". That's completely normal." The figure states plainly. "But, don't worry, I can explain that all in due time. None of that is the reason why I'm meeting you here."

Ramus blinks, an expression of confusion across his face. His mouth is agape while facing the figure before him.

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"The reason for our meeting has little to do with your actions in life and their consequences. I'd like to explain this to you." Simply explains the figure. "But the question is... would you rather have me explain what happened to you first, or would you like to know why I'm here with you?"

"T-... Tell me about what happened to me, first." Ramus requests.

"Oh, you want to hear about that first...?" The figure asks, before sighing. "Well, I guess the important stuff can be saved for later..."

The figure let out a small sigh.

"Well, simply putting it, you died. Though, I guess it's not really that simple, now is it?" The figure says.

"How did I die... and why?" Ramus asks. "I... I can't remember a thing..."

"There was a disastrous event that occurred most primarily on your own planet, Ludus-Prime, but also around the rest of the universe, too." The figure explains.

"What??"

"Please, I'm getting to that, there's no need to interrupt." Says the figure. "I'll thank you to allow me to get there, okay?"

Ramus gulps. "U-um, yes, sorry."

"Good. Now then... this happening was not a single disastrous event that occurred, it was many. Perhaps all the most unfortunate things that could have happened." The figure explains. "Invasions, disasters, deaths... it's something that's become known as The Reckoning. This is when you died."

"How did I die?" Ramus asks. "There were... an incredible amount of measures taken to ensure the safety of the Emporer..."

"Ah, yes, you did try to prepare for the worst, but all your Ludusian methods had not left you well-prepared for achieving a high chance of survival under the conditions of the entirety of The Reckoning. Really, almost nothing could have, lest you had future information of the event, were of high resilience and/or resolve, or if you just happened to be incredibly lucky enough to survive." The figure explains. "There was damage caused by things like natural disasters, a great amount of meteors, and then attacks from various outsiders. All of those things ended up putting an end to your "extra lives". Your "final life" met its end before the end of the day, when the building you were residing in collapsed upon itself unexpectedly, thus leaving you impaled and set to die."

Ramus stares at the figure for a moment longer, and comes to take in their explanation. "I... but why am I in Hell?" He anxiously asks. "I've saved my country and planet from chaos and destructions many times over, or I've at least led it to the progress of doing that."

"What do you...? ... Oh, dear, you're really...?" The figure crosses their arms. "Well, I can assure you, your soul didn't get sent to the wrong place."

"... what's that supposed to mean?" Ramus demands.

"... do you really see yourself as an entirely good person? The term itself is entirely subjective, so there's not really any such thing." The figure explains. "Come on, look inside yourself. Isn't there anything that you feel ashamed or guilty for? Anything at all?"

A number of things immediately came to Ramus's mind that sprung such emotions. He could only stare placidly at the figure, lacking of a response.

"Or is it that you're incapable of feeling such emotions...? That's what you would leave me to assume, since you're giving a face like that after I've just told you to think deeply about the kind of person you are. Are you really going to learn or admit enough about yourself to be convinced that you being in Hell isn't an unfair mistake...? In that case... let me provide your judgement."

The figure removes their hood, revealing the rest of their face and head. They have the appearance of a young adult, perhaps around twenty years of age. They have short, curly black hair, deep blue eyes, a deathly complexion, and they wear a pentagram hairclip upon their head.

"Let this face serve as a reminder of the things you've done-- specifically, the first notable abhorrent act that you did as a man who was to decide the fates of his people. That one, out of everything you've done, should be the one you feel the worst out of all about, considering it's the deed you've had to live with the longest. Do you recognize who this face belongs to?"

"... Z... Zaion Moriam..." Ramus says, in a horrified tone.

"That's absolutely correct. You have such a great memory, Ramus. So I'm sure you remember what happened around the time of the witch hunts, don't you...? Your indifferent attitude..." The figure says, accusingly, "... led to the deaths of the innocent, altruistic witches who were wrongly accused of dooming the planet, and then led to the persecution of further innocents in the future."

The figure crosses their arms.

"It led to the torturing, descent, and death of this innocent person, which in turn allowed the same for your old good friend, Anicetus. And, as you let it progress even further along, it led to the ultimate corruption of your sister... oh, and keep in mind that, in the midst of this happening, you sought the aide of an archdemon to console you and give you confidence." The figure shakes their head. "All of that done, for what reason? Because you were truly too afraid of what the people would say if you dared to challenge them? Because you were too indifferent over it all, and found the entire act a harmless distraction from greater problems? Even having an "angel"-- note the heavily non-literal application of the term-- sitting on your shoulder and giving you advice, your hesitance to act led to a disaster that wouldn't be righted for so long..."

The figure sighs.

"I don't want to drive this point home in particular, because though it is important in your final judgement, it should feel like only a small detail in the bigger matter of what your judgement was, but-- seriously? When you're reaching out to an archdemon to help you with your problems, the least you could do is actually do the right thing when the time comes, at least to try to balance out the sin you're wallowing in." The figure sighs again, sounding more upset. "Honestly, that's just entirely a waste. Not only that, but your resistance to accepting mortality and... Failing to acknowledge the existence of any deity that didn't walk right up and talk to you or threaten your planet while you were its Emporer gives you a pretty poor standing with them. Maybe if you had given the gods more attention and praise, they would have been much more lenient on your judgement."

Ramus stares at the figure, looking like a lost child, or a deer in headlights.

"Now that's the expression I was looking for." The figure says with a smile. "I'm guessing now that you understand the reasoning behind your judgement, yes?"

"I... I haven't always done the wrong thing..." Ramus argues. "I know, I have done some despicable things, but I've also done all that I can to help out everybody on my planet... I failed sometimes in that, but... I made a change... I saved people's lives... isn't... isn't that worth anything?"

"Well, now, that's actually a rather contentious topic for debate, now isn't it? How much is a mortal life worth, that's the question. What evil does it count when you lead to a person getting killed... and what good does it count for when you lead to a person living for longer? Can you really say that both things are equal? Death is inevitable for mortals-- that, for sure, is an immutable fact. But, don't life and death matter...? " The figure asks. "If death is inevitable, what's really the worth of giving them a few more years of life by leading them to be saved? And, at the same time, what's the worth of prematurely taking some years off a person's life by leading them to be killed? It's really hard to say what the "right" and "wrong" thing is... but... in the end... don't you just "know" the answer to that? Whether you made the "right" or "wrong" choices in life?"

The figure pauses for a moment.

"But, hey, you did a lot of good things, I will give you that. But who's to say that all the good you've done in your life comes up to enough good to just "cancel out" the bad that you've done, if that's even possible? What's it to say about the kind of person that you are-- "good" or "bad"-- in the long run?" The figure questions. "How many "good" and "bad" choices you've made in your life... who can say the "percentage" of it all, and if it means somthing? 60% of your choices were good while 40% were bad? 51% were good while 49% were bad? It doesn't matter. Your planet has education standards, doesn't it? Forty percent, fifty percent, sixty percent... those are all failing grades."

The figure spoke those last words with a fair amount of sternness. Ramus can only respond by blankly staring forward.

"So, do you get it now?" The figure asks. "The reasoning behind your judgement?"

Ramus gulped, and slowly nodded.

"Who... who are you...?" Ramus asks the figure.

"Hm? Don't you know this...? You've already said my name." The figure blinks. "I'm exactly who I look like. I am Zaion Moriam."

Ramus's eyes widen in surprise. "W-wait... you... you're really...?"

"Yes, I really am them. I am not an illusionist or a liar, I cannot change my face." Zaion says plainly. "The face I wear is my true face, one that just happens to carry connotation with you."

Ramus was rendered speechless once more.

"... Well, then, now that this has been settled..." Zaion says, "How about I tell you why I'm here with you now?"

Ramus nods, apprehensively.

"... Yes... That's good. Very good, then..." Zaion says with a smile. "Now we can get to the more interesting things."

Zaion smiles, leaving Ramus feeling slightly unsettled.

"So... why am I here?" Ramus asks.

"Well, the best explanation for that requires me to explain my title. From there, it makes much more sense." Zaion says. "You see, I am none other than the Supreme Hell Psychopomp."

Zaion looks at Ramus as if they expected him to immediately understand. Upon seeing the confusion on his face, Zaion frowns.

"Er... I guess that information is falling on deaf ears. You must know little about this kind of thing. You see, in the Separ Dimension, there are many realms with their own designated psychopomps, who are to guide the right souls to their destinations. Overseeing the normal psychopomps, and occasionally taking charge of the slightly more resistant souls, are the four Great Psychopomps." Zaion explains. " Overseeing those four, and in charge of souls that are harder to handle, is the Grand Psychopomp. Then, above that, overseeing every other Psychopomp below them and taking charge as the last line of action for an extremely resistant soul is the Supreme Psychopomp. And I currently hold this position."

"It's a... position?" Ramus asks.

"Yes, it's something to be held by the most qualified soul in Hell."

"... I... I would have thought that being something like a grim reaper was something that one was made to do..." Ramus says. "Like, an angel of death created by the gods..."

"Is it really strange? Your position as Emporer is the exact same way."

"... I guess, but... I hadn't expected it to be such a way."

"Considering your lack of complete knowledge on the subject, I find it hard for you to make such assumptions on meaning for my part." Zaion says.

"..." Ramus is silent for a moment. "... how did you come to hold this position?"

"... oh, well, it's more of a recent thing, to be honest. I just so happened to be the most superior of the disciples of the previous Supreme Hell Psychopomp."

"... what happened to the previous one?" Asks Ramus.

"That's... well, let's just say that the last Supreme Hell Psychopomp is currently on an extended vacation." Zaion says simply.

"... what...?"

"Really, what happened to them isn't relevant to our current matter. Let's forget about it." Zaion suggests.

Ramus quietly stares at Zaion, before he nods in agreement.

"Alright. Now, the Supreme Hell Psychopomp doesn't only hold a higher position than other Hell Psychopomps, but they are also fitted with a very special role to play, which is where people like you come into the equation." Zaion explains with a smile. "You see, you were judged to be sent to Hell, but you were also fitted with another special judgement... you are eligible to receive a second chance at life, which I can grant you."

"A-a second chance at life??" Ramus asks, seeking reaffirmation.

"You heard it right! You have the opportunity to receive a second chance at life. Now, I'm sure you're wondering about the why and how of all that, so let me educate you on this subject... Every dead being sent to afterlife in the Separ is to be judged by the judges of the dead, the dark gods, and the forces of the universe. Most judgements are already predetermined based off of what is known about the life of a person, only to be changed if they turn their life around or end up dying in a heroic sacrifice. However, for a long time, your judgement has been known and has remained unchanged. Now, an addition to your judgement has for a long time been that you can receive a second chance at life by a Supreme Psychopomp if you ever are to find yourself "unsatisfied" with the realm in the afterlife that you find yourself residing in.

"In this such case, you are to prove yourself worthy of a second chance at life to said Supreme Psychopomp. You, specifically, were chosen as such a case. Now, though you were deemed worthy of being sent to Hell, the second chance at life is a method of which you can get your redemption. Being a famed leader of a planet, as well as a person capable of doing good, you are expected to spend the entirety of your second life doing entirely good and leading your planet to do good... as well as to probably worship one or more major deities of some sort, as that's heavily likely to sway your judgement. That's just a little suggestion for what you could do, Ramus, should you come to find yourself successful in attempting this endeavor."

"... Wh... what do I... have to do... in order to get this second chance at life?" Ramus asks.

"The easy answer is, just prove to me that you are a person who is worthy of receiving a second chance at life." Zaion says. "The more convoluted explanation would be, you need to win the game that I propose to you."

"... the game...?"

"Yes, the game. Should you choose to accept my terms, after I explain it to you, then I will guide you towards the necessary materials you need to complete the game." Zaion says. "And then, from there, you may very well be able to beat the game and acquire your second chance at life."

"I accept." Ramus quickly says.

"... excuse me?" Zaion asks.

"I want to play the game."

Zaion blinks at Ramus, appearing surprised. "I... haven't even explained..."

"I don't care, you can tell me about it later." Ramus says. "... and you can judge me for my decision, too, I don't care. I... I know that the people of Ludus need me to guide them, and I don't want them to feel lost or misguided in any regard. And I can't be the Emporer when I'm dead in Hell... so I'm going to need that second life in order to do that."

"... you're a very noble man, aren't you?" Zaion says, with a playful smile. "Rushing into danger for what you believe is right..."

"I know this is the right thing to do." Ramus says. "I'm confident in that, at least..."

"... yes, and like I've said, we really do know what the "right" thing is, don't we?" Zaion comments. "... sometimes, it's just a matter of knowing whether or not we've made the "right choice"." Zaion lets out an awkward laugh.

"... so then... what is this "game" about...?" Ramus asks.

"Oh? I thought that you didn't care what the terms of the game were?" Zaion asked. "Isn't that the essential information you just told me now?"

"If I... don't know how to play the game, I can't very well play it, though..."

Zaion rests their head on their hand. "That is entirely true... though, I suppose... perhaps you should get a little taste of the difficulty of your game, and the consequences it can entail, before you make a..." Zaion looks for the right words for a moment. "... horrible... uninformed decision, Emporer Ramus. Do you think I would be fair in allowing you that much?"

"... sure, thank you." Ramus says. "Though I would... sort of prefer if we could get to the point as soon as possible."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be sure to time things perfectly." Zaion assured. "Don't you worry yourself over anything at all, alright?"

"Alright." Ramus says, though he feels very uneasy.

"So, let me go into detail about what exactly this "game" is supposed to be. It is not some sort of simple game that you would play on Ludus, such as chess or tag. It's also not the kind of game that one would play on a computer. It is more of a test than a game, if I am to be honest. A test that is fitted specifically for each individual person who becomes eligible for it, and each and every set of circumstances that any individual person may find themselves in. For example, the game for you here in Hell would be drastically different for someone else in Heck. It is specifically designed to be the most brutal and demanding test that can be offered with the resources that we have available. I believe that you happened to get particularly unlucky with this. It is not only extremely rare that anyone would ever come to succeed in a Supreme Psychopomp's game, but the conditions in Hell are excruciatingly more demanding than those in any other realm of the Separ. No one in any history has ever completed the tasks of the game presented by the Supreme Hell Psychopomp. It is revered as impossible by all who know about it, and that such status is only doubted by the very foolish.

"You may be wondering, "why would the game be so hard? What exactly is the big deal with this game?" Well, the answer to that lies in the nature of the game, and the game's tests, itself. Do not ever get confused on the nature of the game. It is not simply a test of your strength, your intelligence, your cunning, your abilities, your character, or anything like that. It is a test of everything. You must use every ounce of your strength, intelligence, cunning, ability, and character if you wish to progress throughout a single part of the challenges that the game presents to you, or else you will fail to pass it. The conditions and adversity of Hell present conditions that are extremely unreasonable for such tasks to be completed, which is why the game here is accredited to be impossible.

"Another thought you may be having is, "well, heck, I might as well give it a shot, right? It's not as if it would hurt to try!" Yes, this is considered an extremely naïve belief, when the terms of the game are taken into consideration. Now, you must realize-- you are dead. You are but a soul without a living body. Undertaking the quest of the game will give you a tangible soul to interact with beings both ethereal and corporeal. This is the simplest method of which your soul can be damaged. Now, do remember, you are dead, and yet you retain a conscious state here. If your soul is to be destroyed while you are undertaking the game, you do not go to "Hell squared", and you don't get a second soul to play around with. You stop existing if your soul is destroyed. There is no way for you around that if it happens. I give you my word, you will be unsalvageable from nonexistence if you fall to it.

"Can you imagine it? Not existing, that is. You would have no consciousness at all. Some believe that, like a common misperception of death, it would a forever silent blackness like what is around us. But that would be impossible. You would have no mind or consciousness to possible perceive the color black, let alone any color at all, or the lack of sound, or even to think and regard your environment.

"Doesn't that sound horrible? The very thought of not existing, not being able to do anything at all, while not even being able to perceive thought to know this? I cannot stress enough the extreme gravity of the choice to play the game, as well as the consequences that are incredibly likely to result from a statistically guaranteed failure to win the game.

"The longer you try to play the game, the more dangers will present themselves. You are expected to beat the game in under a year, and you are not expected to survive for longer than the year if you have not yet beaten the game. Lost souls will be drawn to you while you are playing the game, and they will attack you at random. If someone is foolish enough to accept playing the game just to get a tangible soul, they will quickly be met with beings trying to end their existence. That is, if the dangers of the game itself aren't encountered to destroy your soul themselves. Now, don't get me wrong, here, I'm not trying to dissuade you from playing the game entirely. It is always exciting to see a promising challenger appear to try and attempt it. I am only warning you of the dire consequences that may result from you attempting it. I want to tell you entirely what may happen, and then I want you to ask yourself: is it really worth it? Because I don't want you to regret your decision, and I don't want to lead you down a terrible path without you knowing what may happen to you."

Zaion stops to take a deep breath.

"To be kind to you, I will allow you to wait until a bit later before you truly commit to the game. By then, I will elaborate to you the specifics of your quest. Once you've gotten a mere taste of the tribulations that will lie ahead-- which, by the way, I will attribute this "demo" task of the game to be exponentially less difficult than the actual tasks of the game-- I will guide you to a new location. Once there, you will be given your last chance to decline the offer to play the game." Zaion looks at Ramus with a caring smile. "If you choose to accept it then, however, it will have been too late. Now, I'm sure you're willing to provide a definitive answer right now based on the information I've currently provided, though I'm not going to listen to it quite yet. After I bring you through the "demo" of the game, then I'll ask you for your answer. Only by then when you've gotten at least a fraction of a taste of what's in store for you can I expect you to give an honest answer."

"... alright... I understand." Ramus simply replies.

"That's good to hear, Emporer Ramus. So, now that that's been settled..." Zaion says. "We can begin the demo now, unless you have anything you'd like to talk about right away."

Ramus takes a moment to think about anything he might like to say right now. A few things come to mind.

"You said that, if I'm able to get my second life, I should try to follow a god to get in good standing?" Ramus asks.

"Yes, that's what I said. That's what the wise course of action would be, should you prefer to reside in somewhere like Heaven later on." Zaion says. "Though-- another wise course of action-- I'd advise not trying to follow Mother Gaia in your second life, if you know what I mean."

Zaion laughs slightly. Ramus looks at her, confused.

"What do you mean...?" Ramus asks, confused.

"... oh, you don't know, do you? I'm guessing you didn't receive the memo since dying during the Reckoning."

"What memo?"

"Well, you weren't the only casualty during The Reckoning, Emporer. Mother Gaia also died back then!"

"Sh... she did?" Ramus says, still slightly confused.

"Of course, I couldn't expect you to feel any extreme sense of alarm or surprise. You really didn't know that much about the deities, did you...? Mother Gaia is one of the Creation Trio-- or, at least, she was. She was born in the moment of life's creation, and is the goddess embodiment of Life herself. She is of extreme power, equal to that in power of the deity of Time, Chronos, though much less powerful than the primal deity Chaos." Zaion explains. "However, as those three are all members of the Creation Trio, they treat one another as equals whenever making decisions, and they swore never to make decisions without consulting one another beforehand. Considering the high position Mother Gaia held, it might have been wise to follow her in life, and then die before the Reckoning happened."

"... Is that so...?"

"In fact, you know, there's actually more to that than you might think. Say, did you know it would have been wise for you in particular to try and die any time before Mother Gaia was killed during the Reckoning? I'm to believe she might have had a particularly notable influence on your particular final judgement, for a number of reasons." Zaion says. "She's usually not as forgiving as other deities, but she did take notice of how you allowed her followers in the old days to thrive and do as they pleased for so long. Isn't that just ironic? The very events that you feel utterly horrible and ashamed for might have actually saved you from this punishment, if only the one high-ranking person it pleased had still been alive when your final judgement was delivered."

"... that's... nice to know..." Ramus mutters, in a half-heartedly tone. He suddenly changes his tone, another thought coming to his mind. "Hey, did anybody else die during... The Reckoning?"

Zaion is silent for a short moment.

"... no one you care about died." Zaion simply answers. "Don't worry about it too much."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ramus demands.

"It's not that hard to understand "what it means." It is literally what I've said. Do you need more reassurance? Your son is alive and "well." Your Handlord is currently residing in the living realm. All of the major employees of Isles and Quint are still alive..." Zaion explains, in a slightly annoyed tone. "... at least as far as we know. There was undoubtedly a mass number of casualties on your planet, but the only people who you would deeply and personally care about are still alive. Does this explanation effectively settle you?"

"Um... sure..." Ramus half-heartedly agrees.

"Is there anything else you'd like to ask me about?" Zaion asks.

"... um, what you said about the... person who held your position before you did." Ramus starts.

"You mean the previous Supreme Hell Psychopomp?"

"Yes..."

"What about them?"

"Well... you said they went on a "vacation"... but..."

Zaion looked disheartened. "You doubt my explanation?"

"Y-yes." Ramus admits. "Very much."

"... well, you would be correct in doing so." They admit in turn.

"... what really happened to them...?"

"It's... sort of something that happens to all Supreme Hell Psychopomps. Well, I shouldn't say it like that, actually, because that makes it seem like the job carries the negative connotations of a curse." Zaion says to themself.

"What happens to all Supreme Hell Psychopomps?" Ramus asks.

"Well, usually it's something that happens in times far spaced apart. Most Supreme Psychopomps get to hold their position for a few millennia. However, it seems inevitable that, one day, they will be caught in the fray of a power that requires their attention and presence. When such an occasion arises, it may result in the opposing power destroying the Supreme Hell Psychopomp. Now, the Supreme Hell Psychopomp will, of course, usually be fairly experienced and strong, however, they are not of infinite power." Zaion explains. "There will eventually come a force too powerful for them to survive. And, as I'll remind you, the role of a Supreme Hell Psychopomp is usually held by one who is already dead. As you know, since I've explained to you, if your soul is destroyed, you cease to exist. When a Supreme Hell Psychopomp ceases to exist, they must be replaced by their greatest disciple or the next most worthy candidate. Interestingly, most of the time the next worthy candidate turns out to be the power that destroyed them! This is especially the case if a deity tasks someone to defeat and replace a Supreme Hell Psychopomp."

Ramus stares blankly at Zaion for a moment. "... Zaion... did you...?"

"... Did I what? What are you trying to say?"

"... Uh, nevermind. I don't think I want to know."

"... You really are acting strange, Emporer."

"Ca... can I have any idea about the kind of challenges that I'll be facing in the game?" Ramus asks. "Like, what... entity or entities, exactly, will I encounter, if any?"

"You don't need to be so hasty to find out the answers. I already told you, I will elaborate the exact terms of the game after you complete the demo." Zaion says. "It would be worth nothing to give you more and more impressions that could be considered entirely inaccurate of the game before you get your final chance to decline playing."

"... if you say so." Ramus grumbles.

"Now, if you have any other questions on your mind at the moment, I suggest you ask me them now. I will be appearing along the course of the game, should you choose to play it, to offer you occasional guidance or a progress report whenever I feel it would be an appropriate time for me to intervene." Zaion says with a friendly smile. "So, if you have something else you want to say to or hear from me, then don't worry, we will undoubtedly meet again along the course of the game. Should you choose to play the game, that is, after you get your opportunity to do so after the demo."

"Alright." Ramus says, nodding. "I don't have anything else to say right now."

"That's quite alright. Well, then, I suppose we should get going now." Zaion says. "We will begin our demo right outside the gates of Hell."

"H... how are we going to get there?" Ramus asks, looking around, but still seeing nothing but the blackness of the void around them.

"Oh, that's simply, really." Zaion says. "Just look down."

Ramus stares bewildered at Zaion. "... look... down...?"

"Yes, look down. As in, with your eyes, look in that direction, down." Zaion lifts their hands in front of them, and then points downward with both their index fingers. "Down is this way, the direction I'm pointing towards."

"I know where down is." Ramus snaps.

"That makes my job easier." Zaion says, sounding the slightest bit relieved. "Now, look down, please."

Ramus skeptically looks downward. He can see absolutely nothing downward but the same black void as everywhere else. Not even his feet were there. He's about to look upward to face Zaion with an annoyed expression, before he suddenly feels a rush of gravity. He realizes he's falling down, incredibly fast.

Ramus looks up at Zaion one last time to see them calmly looking down at him and waving him off.

## Chapter 2: Free Sample

Ramus awakes sometime later, in an unknown location. He has no memory of what happened in between his sudden fall and his current predicament.

Ramus looks around. The scenery is drastically different now. The sky is light that of a night sky, but it is without a moon, all the stars are in the wrong place, and every star is glowing red. The world is now a rocky, treacherous ground, like the side of a mountain turned over horizontal. Much of it is covered in a strange red substance, perhaps some variety of red moss, grass, or perhaps just partially dried blood. There seem to be a few pits and partial stalagmites protruding from the ground, which give off a red-orange glow.

Ramus is honestly surprised just to see a ground... but he still doesn't see his feet. Or his legs at all. Or his arms... Ramus suddenly feels strangely unsettled.

"Wh... where's my body?" He questions.

"Didn't I already tell you about this? I'm sorry if I didn't." A voice suddenly says. "Your whole body won't form until you're through the gates."

Ramus looks up to see the figure of Zaion standing before him. Ramus can now more clearly see the outfit Zaion is wearing. The grey pentagram hairclip they wore earlier still takes its place upon their head. They have a moss-green hood which is currently off their head. Attached to their hood are pieces of cloth that trail down past their torso. They're also wearing a neck-covering black shirt with a black, skull-like symbol on the chest, noted by a dark jade outline. They are wearing a sort of coat that is also a similar shade of dark green as their hood is, and is buttoned up with black buttons. The coat doesn't cover their shoulders, yet attached to it are pieces of darker green cloth which cover parts of the arms until the elbows, and they're wearing a pair of black gloves, and several bracelets of blacks, dark greens, dark blues, and dark greys. The coat goes off into both some sort of green skirt and darker green crew-length pants. They have dark green socks and a pair of simple, lace-less greyish dark blue shoes.

Ramus wonders for a moment if this had been the outfit they were wearing all along, but he isn't exactly sure. He looks around for a moment, and sees a large, wall-like structure perhaps a few hundred meters away. Beside it was what appeared to be a collection of an uncountable amount of different colored lights.

"The gates are all the way over there...?" Ramus asks.

"Yes, they are. Now, for the demo, you will have to enter them." Zaion explains. "This will require you to make a choice, both with tribulations."

"... why would it be hard to enter through the gates?" Ramus asks.

"A dead soul does not simply waltz through the gates of Hell without getting proper documentation first. Now, if you're as unprepared as most people are, you didn't undergo a proper burial, and thus you cannot go through the "short line."" Zaion says, pointing over towards the gates of Hell. "See the darker red ground over there near the large gate? That's the short line. However, whether you choose to or not, you can be incredibly patient and humble and choose to wait in the long line."

"Where's the long line?" Ramus asks.

"It's right over there, obviously." Zaion says, pointing towards the collection of innumerable differently colored lights.

"Wait, that's the long line??" Ramus exclaims.

"Yes, it's very bright." Zaion calmly says.

"Those lights are all people standing in line?" Ramus asks.

"Yes. They are not "lights", though. Those are deceased souls." Zaion says. "The rest of their bodies won't appear until they're past the gates."

"Why is it so long...?" Ramus asks.

"Oh, they're still working with the new unprepared entries from The Reckoning." Zaion explains. "I'm not sure if I mentioned, but a lot more people than just you died then."

Zaion has undoubtedly already mentioned that.

"So, what will it be, Emporer Ramus?" Zaion asks. "Patience or immediacy?"

"Short line." Ramus immediately answers. A choice poll is not given.

"Immediacy and decisiveness, I see. Oh, by the way, for the short line, you are expected to pay a little bit of a toll to properly pass."

Ramus looks over at Zaion.

"Yes, a proper burial entails that your corpse has at least a gold coin placed somewhere in or on the face or head. Usually in the mouth." Zaion adds.

"I... I didn't put a gold coin in my mouth before I died, though. I don't think there was any gold in any of the mouths of my corpses. I had no idea that I was supposed to do that..." Ramus admits, sounding defeated. "So... does this mean I have to wait in the long line?"

"Well... not necessarily, I'll say." Zaion says. "Exceptions may be made."

Ramus looks up at Zaion, a bit of hope returning to his eyes.

"Really?" Ramus asks.

"It is very circumstantial that such exceptions are allowed, but... well, this is only the demo of the game, so it's not meant to be as impossible as the game itself is. Also, once inside Hell, you will have access to a plethora of resources and ample time for planning out any sort of strategy you choose to make." Zaion says. "However, you have none of that available for you here, yet you are still set on a choice you've made. I will be willing to make at least a slight attempt, sort of acting like your lawyer, to nudge you in the direction of successfully fulfilling your choice. Think of it as a friendly little favor."

Ramus blinks in surprise. "Wh... why are you doing this for me?"

"I told you, it's a friendly little favor." Zaion insists with a smile. "There's nothing more to think of it."

"No, I mean, for real..." Ramus says. "Like, would you or any other Supreme Hell Psychopomp usually let any potential game contestant do this?"

"... well, I'll admit it's not something done traditionally." Zaion reluctantly admits.

"And what about this "demo" thing?"

"... It's also a new attachment that I've allowed..."

"But... why??"

"First of all, whether or not you were speculating it as a reason or no, I would like to confirm and clarify that my reasons for doing this are not in any form a sort of emotional advance towards you. I'll just put that fact out there and remain to not be misinterpreted for my interests. I am not intending to come across this way. But, anyway, the true reason is, actually... that you are important. Very important." Zaion starts. "Now, I know this may sound strange coming from me, and my reasons for saying it are probably not clear, but your importance should be something that is. Honestly, I could just not be doing any of this, but, due to your importance and my... benevolence, I guess I can call it while not over-praising myself, this guidance is what's come to happen. Do you understand?"

"... If... if you say so..." Ramus says, not understanding of the sudden vicious and undeserved friendzoning he's just received from the grim reaper.

"Rest assured, Emporer, all will be understood in due time." Zaion says. "Now, go on ahead through the short line."

"Alright."

"Feel free to go ahead and converse with anyone in the long line, too." Zaion informs. "Maybe you'll hear from someone interesting. You never know what will happen."

"Sure, I might try that." Ramus agrees.

Zaion waves Ramus goodbye again. Ramus then steadily and quickly begins floating towards the gates of Hell.

Ramus attempts to converse with some of the spirits that he comes across. After a bit of going around, he can find no notable spirits within the crowds. They're all relatively identifiable, what with their different colorations, but none of them seem to be particularly of note. None bigger, none smaller, none with any other features except for being a head-sized, fireball-like object floating around and letting out occasional bits of conversation. He feels slightly disheartened. He thought that if anyone would have something interesting to say, they would at least be distinguishable from the crowd.

He tries talking to some spirits at random, attempting to take Zaion's advice to heart. He has no personal judgement of what spirit might be more interesting than some other spirit, and he tries not to make any assertions through personally preferred colors. So, he tries to start up a few conversations with random spirits.

On his first attempt, he meets with a yellow-green spirit. Though he tries to start up a conversation with it, it only responds by talking about someone who lost their husband and children. Ramus feels that he won't get much out of this, and moves onward. The next spirit he tries to talk to is a copper-colored one. Before Ramus manages to get halfway through saying "hello", the spirit immediately begins loudly lamenting about agonizing pain and children who were eaten. Ramus slowly backs away from the spirit and hopes that it didn't notice him. His third attempt at striking a conversation is with a cerulean spirit. As Ramus approaches the spirit, it appears to have already started talking about protecting its children, and pays Ramus no attention. As soon as Ramus catches a break in the cerulean spirit's talking, he quickly introduces himself. The cerulean spirit recognizes his name, exclaims in surprise that he's here, and says to itself how lucky it feels to be meeting the Emporer. Not even a second later, the cerulean spirit goes into a monologue about loneliness in which it seems to pay no attention to Ramus at all. Ramus waits for a while, unsure of what to say or do. After some time, he interrupts the cerulean spirit, snapping it out of its monologue and leading it to ask who Ramus is. Ramus once again introduces himself and receives the same reaction as before.

At that last attempt, he finds himself convinced that the spirits have very little of value to say at all, and decides to pay them no mind for the rest of his walk to the gate.

As he is floating along the lines, he's able to catch a glimpse at the immensity of the long line itself. It doesn't only consist of the distance from where Ramus had started to the gate. The line is a tight zigzag of leads that extended its area at least a solid forty feet throughout, making room for several spirits in one row of a line for the entirety of the line. Ramus believes that the rows of the line might be longer, though he's unable to see through all the spirits exactly how far. He notices how they all slowly progress forward, like they're on a conveyor belt. It takes roughly a half-minute or so for the line to move forward one spirit. Ramus feels thankful that he decided not to take the long line. He feels it would have taken him forever to get through it.

Ramus eventually comes upon the large structure known as the gates of Hell. The structure looms over him with in immense size. It is designed with a dirtied-looking, cream-colored sort of stone, and a reddish wood-like material lining it. The gate to the short line is open, and inside there's a checkerboard of a floor visible. Ramus absent-mindedly proceeds forward through the open gates. He begins gazing at the inside of the structure around him.

"Excuse me, hold it right there!" A voice suddenly commands. Ramus stops in his tracks and comes to attention. Standing before him is an milk-skinned figure with crimson eyes, black hair, and scarlet horns and wings. Said figure is wearing a striped red scarf, a big dark grey coat, black pants, cherry red boots, and gloves a watermelon red.

"... Yeah?" Ramus says, gazing blankly.

"I just saw you waltz right through the fast gate without anyone checking you in." The demon informs, with a bit of an informative tone. "That's not how we operate around here. If you want to get through the gates, you're supposed to get checked out and filed in first."

"Oh, uh, okay."

"So, first thing's first, spit it out."

"... Spit out...?"

"The toll." The gatekeeper says.

"Oh, right. Um... nothing's in my mouth."

"Ah, got it. Clean out your ears."

"I-- nothing's in my ears, either." Ramus quickly says, thinking about how oddly the gatekeeper is phrasing the commands.

"... nose?" The gatekeeper asks, questioningly.

"N... no..."

"Nose? It is in your nose?" The gatekeeper asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm just saying no." Ramus clarifies. "Not nose."

"Where is it, then?" The gatekeeper questions.

"Um... I don't think..."

The gatekeeper looks disappointed. "You don't have a toll, do you?"

"I..." Ramus starts.

The gatekeeper sighs. "Come on, why is it that so many people think they just get to go through the fast line without a toll? Heads up, but doing that is just a waste of everyone's time! Now, get to the back of the long line and wait your turn like everybody else who didn't come prepared."

Ramus looks disheartened for a moment.

"Don't listen to them, Emporer." Zaion's voice suddenly can be heard. "Remember, you made a choice."

Zaion suddenly emerges from behind the shadow of the gatekeeper. They turn around suddenly, surprised at Zaion's appearance.

"What??" The gatekeeper exclaims.

"Your choices will dictate your fate. For the challenge at hand, you can carry out this choice to the best of your ability." Zaion informs. "I will allow the actions you wish to take here to come into fruition, so that your decision can be made."

"Wait a minute..." The gatekeeper blinks at Zaion. "This is a new player?"

"Yes, Enyredies, this is yet another player of the Supreme Psychopomp's game." Zaion informs. "Aren't you excited? You enjoy it whenever the game is played, right?"

The gatekeeper, Enyredies, gives Zaion a sideways look. "Why is this one trying to go through the fast line...?"

"I gave Emporer Ramus a choice as to how he would decide to enter the gates of Hell." Zaion says. "Needless to say, I am to believe that he is determined to carry out the choice."

Enyredies sighs. "Whatever, but he still needs a toll to get through the fast line, and if he doesn't have one, I can't let him through."

"I... I don't have anything on my head to give you." Ramus admits.

"If that's the case, then you're going to have to wait in line. That's the rules."

"Ah, how under-indulgent in disorder you are, Enyredies. Such commitment to rules and order!" Zaion says, smiling. Enyredies raises an eyebrow. "However, you are wrong there. Ramus does have something to give for a toll! And I'm certain he intends to."

"But, there's really nothing in my head..."

"Don't be ridiculous, now, Emporer. Of course you do." Zaion says. "Your teeth are in your head. As are your eyes."

Ramus's eyes widen in horror at Zaion's suggestion.

"Ah, I see! Those open eyes tell me exactly what you're willing to give to get in."

"N-no! What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, calm down, Emporer. I was merely pulling your leg there for a second."

Ramus blinks at Zaion.

"I have no intention of forcing you to sell away your teeth or eyes in order to pass through the gates." Zaion says. "My intentions were to introduce you to the fear you'd experience while playing the game."

Ramus is speechless.

"You see, Emporer, the kind of fear that the game presents can truly only be experienced in existence-threatening situations. However, here, in this demo, whatever you should choose to do will be undertaken." Zaion says. "So, really, it's impossible for me to show you how horrible the game will be without inciting a sort of fear in you like I did just then. All I can do is merely give you a sort of preview as to what it will actually feel like."

Ramus is still speechless.

"Does he have a toll to give me or not?" Enyredies impatiently asks.

"Yes, in this decidedly special case, Ramus does have something to give you. He can be allowed access to whatever items were on his person when he died." Zaion says. "However, it will ultimately be up to him what the toll is paid with. Again, Ramus, it is your choice that matters here, and you're free to make it."

"... whatever I had on my body when I died..." Ramus repeats.

"You will have to give away whatever you choose to pass through here." Zaion says. "I suggest that you choose as wisely as possible."

Ramus takes a moment to think about what he had on his person before dying.

"How about my Hairpin?" Ramus immediately questions.

Enyredies gives him a raised eyebrow. "A... hairpin?"

"Yes." Ramus says, with a slight blink.

"... you wanna give me a grimy old hairpin for your toll," Enyredies begins to ask, "when the toll is supposed to be worth a gold coin."

"B-but... the hairpin is special..." Ramus says.

"Special...?"

"It can transform into pretty much any inanimate object, with certain limitations." Ramus informs.

"Can it transform into something that would actually be worth the toll?" Enyredies impatiently asks.

"I... u-uh," Ramus stammers.

"Yeah, do ya' have anything else?" Enyredies sighs.

"My... necklace?" Ramus suggests.

"Wait a minute, Ramus! You shouldn't be giving that away so hastily, Emporer." Zaion suddenly advises. "That little sun you're wearing could be worth more to you than you may think."

"Why not?"

"It will undoubtedly be a helpful tool that may save your life on more than one occasion." Zaion says. "If you are to provide it here as a toll, you will never get it back. That would be a bad idea."

"How do you mean?" Ramus questions.

"I'm glad you asked. You see, Ramus, you have some special abilities, which relate to your innate importance. I believe your powers draw from a concept that you don't even fully believe in. However, it definitely exists, and it may make an enormous difference on your journey." Zaion informs. "This sun necklace is heavily connected to your personal powers. Without undergoing a special sort of metamorphosis, like I have, you will have some trouble naturally accessing said abilities. You may not see yourself making a wrong turn and go down it unknowingly!"

Ramus nods, pretending to understand. He doesn't really.

"Why don't you offer your ceremonial staff as a toll instead?" Zaion asks. "Why, I'm sure it would be worth several tolls, actually."

"My staff...? I... I kind of don't want to give that away." Ramus says sheepishly. "I mean, that's my only weapon here... besides the Hairpin. But that thing's really unreliable..."

"I have a feeling you're only wishing to keep the item out of its sentimental value." Zaion accuses.

"Also, you just said it's worth way more than a single toll? That wouldn't be a fair trade at all."

"Fair enough. Sentimentality sure puts a damper on progress, however."

"... then... what do I have left to actually give?" Ramus wonders.

"Ah, yes, that is the question. However, since you've asked it, this now brings me to provide you with an answer I've been burning to give you." Zaion says. "You were heavily under-equipped in your death, yet you were possessing of materials definitely worth the toll. Your cybernetics."

"Wait, you want me to give away my cybernetics...?" Ramus asks.

"Well, I'm not suggesting that you give away every last piece of your inorganic and artificial components. Those are all worth much too much." Zaion says. "I'm merely suggesting you give away every longevity-extending, sensory-enhancing, and biology-altering cybernetic components you hold."

"That's... pretty much all the internal and most of the external ones!" Ramus hisses. "I'll barely even have a body left if I do that!"

"That's not true. You're dead, Emporer, you don't even have a body left. Of course, giving away your cybernetics here as the toll will effect both the makeup of your fully-formed spirit-- and, theoretically, the body you have in your second life, should you achieve it-- but it's not how you think it is. The parts of your body that were cybernetic won't just disappear from existence. They will be replaced by the original states of your body's parts, kept in the memory of your soul." Zaion tells. "It's like with the quite common event that someone loses a limb in life but they get it back in the afterlife. Their soul recognizes the lacking of something and fills it in, by the subconscious will of the subject's mind. Yes, I said subconscious-- you don't even have to think about it to reform any lost body parts in an instant. It's an extremely convenient and useful feature of the soul-- at least, I believe it is."

Ramus stares at them.

"But, I guess, you're probably wondering why I sound like I've wanted this for a while. I'll not hide it-- it's true, I was intending for this to happen. But there are good reasons for it. I find it essential for your growth and procession, for one. Also, I find it a prerequisite for being a player of the game where the prize is a chance to change your final judgement. Your second final judgement is something that you will have to undergo a second death to accomplish." Zaion explains. "If you don't experience a normal lifespan in your second life, or if you have no assurance of dying a second time at all, basically, it is entirely an unfair situation. While those in a first life must go through a normal lifetime and are expected to do good in their one and only final judgement, you not only get two lives to lead up to your final judgement, you also get lifespans much greater than the normal for your species? Does that not sound incredibly unfair to you?"

Ramus has no time to respond to the question, if it wasn't rhetorical.

"Exactly. So, this is why I heavily suggest that you give away the aforementioned specific parts of your cybernetics." Zaion finishes. "I assure you it will definitely be proficient. Though, I guess it is your choice, after all. So, what do you say?"

Ramus is silent for a while. But, he eventually nods, accepting the idea.

"Oh, what a splendid response. Very wise of you, Emporer." Zaion says cheerfully. "I'll give Enyredies your toll payment right away."

Ramus feels something strange in his essence. Parts of his cybernetic body then materialize before him. The robotic parts levitate as Enyredies points at them.

"I... guess this is good?" Enyredies remarks. "Sort of looks like a pile of junk, though."

Zaion then takes a minute to assure Enyredies that the materials are a suitable toll. Enyredies interrupts them and then tells Ramus to follow. Ramus is led to a different, simple room, with a large door. Enyredies leaves after clearing Ramus for entry.

"Well, there you go, Emporer, you've completed the demo." Zaion says, "Now, you can enter Hell as you wish."

"Does that mean I can play the game now?" Ramus quickly asks.

"... oh... you're still set on that decision? Even after knowing that the tasks ahead will be exponentially more difficult than the ones you've just faced?"

"Yes, I am." Ramus answers.

"Hm... well, before you do make your final decision, I do believe I should give you one final warning and chance to turn back before it's too late, okay?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Splendid. Let's hope I can convince you yet... so, as I have already elaborated, the dangers of the game is that it has a time limit, lenient as around a year may be. You must complete a number of tasks in order to progress and win. The dangers of these tasks lie in the fact that, while playing the game, both the living and dead can attack you, certain hostile forces will be drawn to you, and completing the games tasks entails putting yourself at the mercy of the most dangerous forces in the realm. Failure means double death, i.e. nonexistence. I've already elaborated that to you, so I'll spare you the reiteration. The game is considered impossible to win.

"Now, as a notice, I will be keeping track of you throughout your experience. There are certain rules to completing the tasks, and you will have to follow them. You cannot escape my watch. There will be items of my vision following you everywhere you go, watching you. If you try to cheat in order to get ahead, I will know. And I will not allow it. Cheating will not result in immediate failure, but it may just as well, as it will require you to go back, admit to having cheated, and complete the task without cheating in order to successfully complete it. Honestly, I find that extremely lenient. We barely punish you at all there.

"Also, my methods of keeping an eye on you will also be broadcast to other sources in Hell. Why, you may be asking yourself, would we do that? As a form of entertainment, of course. The weary residents of Hell are introduced to instances of you going through arduous trials for their amusement. It sounds horrible for you, but, truthfully, it's something wonderful for us."

Ramus gives them a blank stare. Zaion then pulls out a large, smooth, reflective black sphere.

"Now, should you choose to play the game, I'll be tracking your progress through these. I call them Soothsayer Pearls. When these are around, know that your every action can be seen and that your every word can be heard. Same goes for anyone and anything else in your general vicinity. So, try to remember not to do anything that you wouldn't want to be remembered by."

Zaion winks.

"Now, on to the tasks that you will be expected to undertake in the game. The first stage is obtaining important items from various people in Hell. That's right-- not various places, as it's not a scavenger hunt-- various people. You have to specifically get the items from specific people, and I'll do my best to enunciate that point, because getting the item without undergoing the proper procedure involving the person who owns the item is cheating. And going back to a person you just stole something from, telling them that, and then having to get it from them is going to be much harder that not cheating in the first place.

"And so, I'll now let you know the details of these tasks: you have to obtain eight specific items, from the eight most prominent demonic beings that have some control over a Separ Realm. One item from each of them. Putting it simply, you must acquire a mask from Lucifer, a relic from Mammon, a bottle and its contents from Asmodeus, a ring from Satan, a platter and its contents from Beelzebub, a ribbon and its contents from Leviathan, a charm from Belphegor, and a grail from Apelpisia. Excuse my vagueness on the description of these items, but you'll know them when you seek them."

"Should I write that down?" Ramus asks.

"Don't worry, you have no need to. If you ever forget what it is that you are going after," Zaion says, "just approach a soothsayer's pearl and use it to get my attention. Then I will remind you what it is you are seeking."

Ramus nods in understanding.

"Now, I'll give you some final pieces of information on your quest, before leaving you to make the decision as to whether to take it or not. You can choose to seek after one item whenever you wish, though I recommend that once you've started after an item you stay on track, or else you'll just be wasting time. Now, here's the most important part: the tasks are incredibly difficult in nature, and the forces that be enact a will that causes each task to become even more difficult than the previous one. However, this fact can be played to your advantage. Not all the tasks are immediately of the same difficulty. Should you seek to go after the most difficult task first, all the other tasks will become much more difficult than before." Zaion informs. "However, should you seek to accomplish the least difficult task first, the later tasks will not highly increase in difficulty. Should you go from lowest difficulty to highest difficulty, the ease of your quest will increase dramatically. Should you do the inverse, the difficulty will increase drastically. Be a good enough judge of this, and it may help you along... however, it would be fair to note that even those who have made the wisest decisions in the past still have failed, as, of course, no one has yet succeeded. So, it actually might not matter at all what you do."

"Thanks for the advice." Ramus says.

"Though, I do want to put a lot of value in choice for you. Your choices matter, even if they all result in the same outcome. They all have meaning, you know. Do remember to that in mind... That said," Zaion adds, "I will inform you of this: the route of Apelpisia will be, objectively, the hardest task to complete out of all of them. Though I condone you making your own choices, I implore you to make Apelpisia's task your last one."

"Because it will make all the other ones a whole lot harder, right?" Ramus asks.

"The odds of success at all are already astronomical. I'd find myself unethical to allow you to partake in the game without forcing you to save Apelpisia's grail as the last task." Zaion says. "So, that is what the game is. I believe I've covered every point as much as is necessary to. Do you have any more questions you'd like to ask, or have you made your final decision now?"

"I've made my decision." Ramus says.

"Very well."

"I'm playing the game."

"... Er..." Zaion suddenly looks baffled.

"I know it looks like I can't win... but I at least have to try."

"Emporer Ramus... are... are you certain that you want to play the game? Knowing what's going to happen?" Zaion asks.

"I don't know what's going to happen," Ramus says, "I just need to hope for the best."

"M... maybe I haven't clarified in enough detail the abyssal possibility of success well enough..."

"No, I definitely get it." Ramus says. "I'm playing anyway."

Zaion smiles, and lets out a awkward, nervous laugh. They stare Ramus down for a moment, and then the worry in their expression increases.

"Emporer Ramus... I'll advise you that... this is a very unwise decision." Zaion advises. "Would you, please, put more thought into it, before it's too late...?"

"I know what I want to do... why are you being like this now? You just said that my choices matter, and this is my choice. Doesn't it have any weight with you?"

Zaion stares at Ramus with some irritation. They're currently clutching the soothsayer's pearl like it's about to jump out of their arms and run (or, roll) away. After a moment, they close their eyes and sigh.

"You're right... I can't deny how true that fact is, regardless of whether or not I agree with it's every application." Zaion says. "I only tried to prevent you from making a very, very poor choice. My apologies that I didn't succeed, Emporer."

Zaion lets out another sigh, and then regains their composure.

"If this is the choice you wish to make, then pass through this door, by your own decision." Zaion says. "I suppose, if you're willful enough to stay to the choice you've made, I have no method of stopping you."

Ramus nods, and does just that. As he passes through, he feels his form changing. He's no longer just a face now. He's wearing a black fabric through most of his body. He looks over himself. He feels a bit strange, not seeing and feeling the additional machinery attached to his body. Also that the substance he's wearing isn't intertwined with the majority of his skin.

"If you want to start the game, then you'll need to be wearing this, just under your shoulder or something." Zaion says. Ramus looks back to see Zaion holding a small piece of white cloth with a small red hexagon inside of a slightly larger red septagram. "This will connect to your being, make your soul connection to physical planes, and signify you've started the game."

Zaion hands Ramus the item. He looks it over for a moment.

"Now, you cannot remove this until you have completed the game and returned to life. Literally, as it cannot be taken off after you put it on." Zaion says. "You can wear it over your clothes and still take them off, though. That's a precaution we didn't always have. Be thankful we do now."

Ramus stares at it intensely.

## Chapter 3: The Game Begins

Zaion looked at Ramus, appearing a bit concerned.

"If you wish to change your decision, you still can," Zaion says, "just don't put that on your person and you don't have to."

Ramus looks it over one more time. He then slowly slides his left arm through it. Zaion looks at him in surprise.

"... well..." Zaion then shrugs indifferently. "I warned you."

"I know you did."

"I'll just activate this thing, now." Zaion says, releasing the soothsayer's pearl. It floats in the air, and begins floating near Ramus. "It will follow you around now."

Ramus looks up at the soothsayer's pearl. He can see his reflection in it. He suddenly brings his hand up to his left eye. The robotic eye is no longer there, and the red circle is now the same lime eye as his other eye... but the whites of his eye are still black. He feels no difference in feel or vision, however.

He continues to look over his reflection. He's no longer a cyborg, he sees. He's just wearing his old skin. His body is entirely natural. After dwelling on that thought for a moment, he feels a bit embarrassed.

"You should stop looking in the reflections, and keep your eyes on the real thing." Zaion suddenly advises.

Ramus looks over to Zaion. "Is there a place where I can change my clothes?"

"I believe there is a place in this facility that can accommodate your wish, yes." Zaion answers.

"Will... will that thing be hovering around me the whole time?" Ramus says, looking over to the soothsayer's pearl.

"Well, it won't automatically turn off whenever presented with nudity or by your request, however I am respectful enough to allow you a blocking curtain should you wish to change your clothes. Though, don't try to escape my sight in the meanwhile-- I have more than one of these devices littered around the place, just so you know. So, should you try to, say..." (Zaion smiles.) "run off somewhere when my guard was down, I'll eventually have you found and followed once more. And, I'll warn you, should you intentionally do such a thing in betrayal of my trust, I will not continue to grant you the privilege of privacy a second time around. Though, of course, the pearls don't work outside of Hell, and you will find no immediate or necessary need for privacy in the afterlife, so the course of which these things will follow and record you shouldn't be found too bothersome."

"Um... thanks..."

"Right now, though, they're not really showing anyone anything. All they can do is show me what they see. Until you go out and begin your quest, you won't be broadcast to anyone else except for myself." Zaion says, "Oh, and before you worry, I won't use the pearls to be impersonal with you, I will, from time to time, show up in the flesh to commune with you. I'll try to do this whenever I see fit."

"I'll be expecting you." Ramus says.

"Well, you may not need to, in the case that you don't survive long enough for me to see a timing fit enough." Zaion says, "If not, then you won't need to expect me at all. So, perhaps just think of it as a possible nice surprise."

Ramus nods.

"Now, you wished to change your outfit, then?" Ramus nods in response. "Yes, I'll show you the way there."

Zaion completes an outstanding transition from the room they were currently in to the one that Zaion had specified earlier, while Ramus follows along and understands, despite the unimportance of the event. The room they find is plain, containing only a few odd chairs, a wooden crate-like object, and a curtain hanging from the ceiling.

"Now, here we are. There's a curtain over there and a chest containing whatever you call your Khao best." Zaion says, "feel free to take your time, I honestly don't mind at all. Though, try not to take anywhere close to a year!"

"Don't worry about that," Ramus uncomfortably responds.

Zaion leaves with a smile. The soothsayer's pearl floats and hums near the door. Ramus pulls the curtain closed.

Ramus gets into the "Khao best chest" Zaion was talking about. He at first sees some infant clothes inside, much too small for him. He wonders why they are here, and thinks that they seem familiar. He pulls the small clothes out of the box, so as to look for something that will actually fit him. The clothes start to progress, becoming more like toddler clothes, child clothes, and young adult clothes... which is when Ramus realizes that he recognizes most of the clothes. He feels like he's worn them all before. He's almost certain he has.

Once he gets to the clothes that actually fit him, he's certain he's worn these clothes. He finds the casual outfits he used to wear centuries ago, and some suits from his early emporer days. He finds it fairly nostalgic, but also unsettling. It's another affirmation that he's been being watched all his life, to the extent that even this box before him knows every single article of clothing he's ever worn.

He figures that must be the idea of Zaion introducing him to this box. Did they really just want Ramus to feel comfortable in some nigh-cathartically nostalgia-inducing threads, or did they want to continually remind him that they knew his life, and why he was here? His mind is set that it's the latter. He sighs in exhaustion, already feeling fed up with the new system he has to deal with.

It doesn't stop him from going along with it, though. He looks back through and locates some particularly nostalgic clothes of his-- the outfit he wore when he had just recently walked into the age of adulthood, and then experienced the first Nazcan attack, an event which would lead to the dictation of the rest of his adult life (He then thinks that it's ironic that his duty to Ludus is actually not only something he had done his entire life, but also in death). It's a grey jacket, a white T-shirt with a chartreuse stick symbol front and center, a pair of simple blue jeans, a leather belt, and some casual shoes. Ramus feels the sickening scent of this nostalgia punching him in the face, while he pretends it didn't just give him a broken nose and actually apologizes to move on with his day.

He then tells himself that it's not that bad. He had some good memories in this outfit, and he actually kind of likes it. It is more his style than a carbon fiber skin and several serious-looking suits, he thinks to himself. Maybe he can come to like it just as much as he did before.

He takes the entire outfit out of the chest, and then quickly throws back everything he threw out back into it. Though he would usually care to fold them, he figures that no one except him will ever need to open that chest since everything in there was his, and he feels that he'll have no need to open it up a second time. He closes the lid to the chest, and silently bars it from ever being opened once more. He then stops caring about it.

He begins to try taking off what he's wearing. To his surprise, he meets some resistance. He looks to see that part of the black fiber is slightly attached to his skin, like it was sewn there. He wonders how that happened, seeing as Zaion somehow removed all the cybernetic elements of him and replaced it with a biological body of "his soul's memory."

"Thanks, Zaion." Ramus thinks to himself, in regards to Zaion's attention to detail. He wonders if this was intentional, and then wonders what whimsical purpose would have influenced this event into happening. He sighs, and then attempts to tear the remaining fabric off, separating what's attached to his skin to what's not. He finds relief in the fact that it's almost entirely on his elbows and upper arms, figuring that he can just cover it with his jacket. He also finds relief that the detachments are more even on his body, as he'd find asymmetrical patches of fabric skin to be even more unsightly.

He notices the patch with the symbol of geometric shapes just below his left shoulder. He tugs at it, testing to see if it really won't come off, and it feels exactly the same as tugging at the fibers. Like it's a part of his skin. He feels assured enough that it's not coming off.

Ramus then dons the outfit he hadn't worn in over a century. It feels comfortable and warm, like it was just freshly washed. He's not sure whether that's good or bad. On one hand, he wouldn't want the outfit to have been washed clean of all the adventure he had in it. On the other hand, he thinks it wouldn't paint him in a good light to be running around wearing clothes that haven't been washed in over a century. He remembers something his advisor said to him long ago-- an Emporer must take pride in healthiness and cleanliness. That, honestly, was just a saying the man had made up to go alongside the also previously nonexistent title of emporer.

Ramus tucks the sleeves of his jacket behind his elbows. He remembers that he used to wear it like this. He doesn't want to go much further than that, as his carbon skin would show past there. Though, he finds the outfit fine. He also finds that the outfit was a bit smaller than he remembered it to be. It actually fits him now, rather than being the slightly baggier fit than they were when he last remembers wearing them. He figures he must've grown since then... about one or two inches taller. He is relieved that he isn't too big to fit in them. He finds a bit of irony in this; he had grown so drastically in around one-and-a-half decades, yet he'd barely changed at all in around one-and-a-half centuries. He regards how odd that function of biology has been to him.

He lets out a sigh. Slowly, he opens the curtain and steps outside. The soothsayer's pearl is still floating and humming. Ramus moves over to the door and opens it. Just outside, Zaion is standing there, holding some familiar items.

"I see that you've decided on an outfit, Emporer." Zaion says. "Would you like your possessions now, as well?"

Zaion was holding a hairpin, a sun necklace, and the Emporer Staff in their hands. Ramus nods, and Zaion hands over the items. Ramus takes the sun necklace and puts it around his neck, hangs the Emporer Staff by his back, and puts the hairpin in his hair.

"Well, you look like you're ready for quite the adventure." Zaion notes. "How fitting that you'll have just that in store for you."

Ramus smiles shyly.

"So, if you're ready to begin," Zaion says, "I'll show you to Hell."

Zaion leads Ramus down a hallway, towards a large glass door, overlooking a path that leads to a small sort of village. The soothsayer's pearl follows Ramus along the way, floating roughly two meters behind him and exactly a foot above his head.

"Here we are. That settlement in the distance is where you should start your journey." Zaion says. "From there, you should be able to see all the territories of the seven princes you'll be going after first."

"You won't be going with me?" Ramus asks.

"I can't just be holding your hand the entire ride through, Emporer. I can watch and give you assistance through the pearls, but that's all." Zaion says. "This is a test of you, not of you with me. I'm sure you can handle getting to the village. If not, I'll do what I must to get things going."

"Alright, then." Ramus responds.

Ramus then walks over and opens the glass door. It's hot outside in Hell. He takes a step outside.

"You're being broadcast now, Emporer. Although, I doubt anyone's watching right away..." Zaion comments.

Ramus looks over at the soothsayer's pearl. It doesn't seem to be any different than it was before. He gives it a sideways look.

"Oh, by the way, Emporer... which item have you chosen to seek after first?" asks Zaion.

"... you said I needed to get a charm from Belphegor, right?" Ramus asks, "Whatever it is, I want to go after Belphegor first."

"Yes, it was indeed a "charm" that you need to acquire from Belphegor," Zaion confirms. "Should I perhaps give you some information on it before you set off?"

"If it'll help, sure." Ramus says.

"Alright. The "charm" in question appears in the form of a "dream catcher." If you don't know what that is, it's usually a device of simple quality with sub-natural parts making it up. Though, it usually looks entirely unnatural in its combination of such parts. Dream catchers work off of the premise that your body, soul, and mind are vulnerable while you are asleep, and that evil forces may come to and endanger you while you do. However, the dream catcher promises to trap the negative forces inside of it, keeping you safe from them while you are incapacitated. It's not hard to see why this item would be heavily valued by Belphegor-- someone who is in a perpetual, willful state of sleep.

"Now, in terms of power, Belphegor is neither closer to the most or least powerful of the seven-- however, this says nothing about how dangerous any of them can be, under different sorts of circumstances. When faced with the most powerful of the seven while said archdemon is in a good mood can be much less dangerous than even the weakest of the seven in a very bad mood. Now, this isn't to say that it's a requirement you fight all or any of them-- as you'll most definitely be decimated by any one of them is you are to try-- but, rather, it may dictate the general difficulty of your quest in trying to get something out of them."

Ramus nods.

"Try to understand the nature of your quest in order to get through it. Belphegor has power over illusionary arts-- so do not be fooled." Zaion instructs. "Consider the task of going after Belphegor as one that tests you-- a test of your perseverance, integrity, and understanding. Alright?"

"That's all you have to say about it?"

"Well, I can't tell you every little detail of it. Much as I'd just love to..." Zaion says. "That would take the difficulty out of the quest! And we can't have that, now.

"Alright... thanks, I guess." Ramus says, as he begins to walk forward. "See you later... I hope..."

Zaion waves Ramus off with a smile. Ramus proceeds down the winding path to the distant settlement, his apparent target destination. Every few dozen seconds or so, Ramus looks back at the Hell entrance, as it continues to grow smaller and smaller by distance-- even with it's great size, it's being obscured by the landscape as Ramus moves forward, and downhill.

The landscape here is like it was outside of the Hell entrance, except there seems to be a few (more?) exposed pits of hot lava every few hectometers apart. The darkness seems to grow and deepen further off the road, so Ramus makes sure to stay on it the whole time, and continues to look back at the Hell entrance behind him and the village before him. He feels an unsettling presence. However, he persists to stay on the path and move forward.

He eventually comes to a point where he can no longer clearly see the Hell entrance or the light from the settlement. He can still see the path, so he moves along it. He fights the urge to backtrack in order to make sure that he can still see either the Hell entrance or the village. He doesn't want to waste too much time here, and he feels that if he'd decide to go back before going forward, he'd end up doing the same thing later again and again, endlessly. He just decides to look up at the soothsayer's pearl for reassurance. With its dark coloration, he can barely see it in such lighting, however he knows that it remains there, still floating behind him and humming quietly. He continues down the path, despite the lack of solid reassurance.

He continues walking in darkness. After a short while, he begins to hear noises, like people moaning and groaning. He has no idea where it's coming from, and it sounds like it's approaching him from all sides. He wonders if the source of the sounds are just obscured by the heavy darkness, and hopes that's the case; he also theorizes that the darkness itself might be the source of the sounds.

After another moment, figures and shapes begin to emerge from the darkness. Ramus stares blankly at them, and his pace begins to slow to a stop. He waits for them to become more clear, upon which he sees their figures. They appear as masses of milky-white body parts placed together in odd combinations to make different shapes. One appears as a mass of eyes with several legs on many sides. Another appears as a large, slender figure with muscly arms as legs, a large mouth in place of its face, and eyes dotting shapes along its body. A third figure appears as a congregation of knees, elbows, hair, and a torso, forming somethng shaped with slight resemblance to an hourglass.

Ramus looks on in horror. The lost souls are moaning loudly, and beginning to approach him. Ramus seems hypnotized by the erratic swaying of the milky figures, and stands frozen as they get closer to him. Suddenly, the many-legged entity barrels itself forward at Ramus at an incredile speed, snaping him back to attention. He narrowly dodges out of the way of the white knees and feet, and suddenly dawns an expression of increased awareness.

Ramus's eyes dart from one figure to another, as he tries to keep watch on each one of them at once. He takes out his Emporer Staff and grips it tightly in both his hands, waiting for the figures to act. They shamble about around him, approaching ever closer.

"Stay back." Ramus tells them, managing a commanding tone. He figures that, if they are benevolent, they will listen to him. However, they show no reaction to his words, only continuing their mindless movements.

The bending hourglass figure then approaches him at an increased speed. Ramus holds out his Emporer Staff from its direction, trying to threaten or show it that it will run into it if it continues. However, it doesn't stop, and only slams into the Emporer Staff, and then starts trying to latch onto it with its many parts. Ramus quickly draws the staff back, and walks back slightly from the being. However, the being refuses to relent, following him once again. Ramus stops, and then makes a slightly long, sweeping motion with his staff, trying to give the being an opportunity to avoid being hit by the attack before approaching. However, it moves forward still, and is whacked a few feet aside by the force of the attack. Its moaning becomes louder, and it starts struggling to remain in an upright position. Ramus looks at it, not knowing what to feel about it.

Ramus faces the other figure, who takes a similar aimless approach as its colleagues by simply increasing speed, latching onto anything it can, and mindlessly walking right into Ramus's attacks. He swings it aside like the others, and it struggles to regain its balance.

Ramus proceeds to move forward, hoping to avoid the milky figures in whatever state of slowness they might assume. He suddenly remembers Zaion's warning that... something or other would be drawn to him as a player. He looks at the accessory under his left shoulder on his jacket. He never knew that beings like this, specifically, would be a part of the game.

He then realizes that this is probably what was meant by the rough estimated time limit of a year. If these beings were drawn to players of the game, although they would be easy to deal with in small groupings, a continual increase in number and hostility would leave even the strongest of warriors overwhelmed when a whole year rolled by.

Ramus begins to slow his pace now, seeing the light of the village coming closer to him. His breathing is already starting to become a pant. He feels utterly relieved that now he can come to at least a temporary rest now.

Ramus looks back at the soothsayer's pearl, which is still trailing behind him. It remains an unliving entity, or at least, so it seems.

Ramus comes to bring himself to a stop as the road extends towards the small, lighted village. He catches his breath, tired from all the running. He takes a look upward after a minute or so, his breathing still heavier than normal, and looks over the village.

It's so small, he can see the center of the village already, even though he's just barely inside the edge of the village. The center of the village is marked by a sort of fountain, with a luminescent crystal-like substance in the heart of it.

The soothsayer's pearl then starts to float in front of him. Ramus looks at it, confused.

"I see you've made it to the beginning of your destination." Zaion's voice comes from the pearl. "That was fairly quick, especially compared to most people."

"... what is this place...?" Ramus asks.

"This is what you could call the "first layer" of Hell. It's the first neutral grounds where very, very many of the spirits sent here reside in." Zaion explains. "This is actually just the first of many settlements from the Hell entrance, there are many other settlements scattered around this layer."

Ramus stares at the soothsayer's pearl. He thinks he can see the feint image of Zaion in it... but, actually, all he can see is himself.

"This is just one nearby settlement from which the other "layers" of Hell can easily be accessed for novices-- like yourself, for example. Within the course of the game, in order to get to the seven Princes, you must travel to their respective territories in their own "layers" of Hell to find them." Zaion informs. "It's best not to think of Hell as a planet or infinite plane of land; it's like it's own series of dimensions and planes that are heavily intertwined, malleable, and connected within the space of its nature. These are what the layers of Hell are like; all Hell, yet unique in their own senses."

The soothsayer's pearl begins floating closer to the center of the village.

"This stone here can be used as a simple and quick method of travelling to and from the layers of Hell. They're pretty far apart from one another, otherwise. So," Zaion's voice says, "I highly suggest using these as tools to travel to and from where you want to be, otherwise you'll be wasting a lot of time on roads like the one you took to get here."

"Alright..." Ramus grumbles.

"These are easy to operate, as the markings on it will indicate what layer of Hell it will send you to." Zaion says. "I hope you found this advice particularly helpful-- you'll definitely realize how much you needed it."

The soothsayer pearl then comes to a stop near the center of the village.

"Now, if it's to Belphegor's layer that you want to go to," Zaion says, "you first need to find the series of symbols representing them."

Ramus sees that it's covered in a series of different symbols, of different colors. He can't understand it, and wonders what kind of art it's supposed to be. "Which ones are Belphegor...?" Ramus asks.

"They should be the bluish symbols." Zaion says. "Roughly sixteen characters, total."

Ramus sees the blue coloration. "Alright..."

"Next, just rub your fingers onto the symbols for a few moments." Zaion instructs. "Then, you'll find yourself in Belphegor's layer of Hell."

"Alright." Ramus reaches out for the blue symbols.

"Emporer, wait a moment, now!" Zaion starts. "Before you touch the symbols."

Ramus pulls his hand back slightly, and looks over at the dark orb. "What is it...?" He asked, concerned.

"Don't you know how commonly used this relic is? Don't you want to be wearing gloves before you touch it?" Zaion asks. "Thousands of fingers must have caressed those symbols. You wouldn't want to catch a ghost cold, would you?"

Ramus sighs, and impatiently rubs his fingers on the blue symbols. A blue light begins to form around him.

"No protection, Emporer? How brave of you, facing these dangers barely armed." Zaion remarks. "Everyone loves a bold hero, you'll surely become a popular man here in Hell."

"Too bad I won't be staying." Ramus and the pearl vanish in a flash of blue light.

## Chapter 4: Cauldron

Ramus reappears before a similar looking device of transportation, though he finds himself in a different location. He looks around, finding himself atop a hill. From the hill he can see a town surrounded by walls, with a large castle looming over it.

Ramus heads off towards the glowing, beaming settlement, almost as if like a moth entranced by its allure. He treads forward mindlessly along a path that seemed short but a moment before, however, as he continues along, a great number of things begin to happen that surely couldn't have happened in but a short time. One at a time, the beings that had been merely relaxing along the path have now taken notice of him, and begin to skulk onward in his direction, stalking him down.

He tries to ignore them, but their figures, their moaning, every generally unsettling quality they hold about them, made them a challenge to be ignored.

He could keep walking and manage to stay in front of them, yes-- but then what? If he were to stop for but a minute, they'd all be right on top of him, unavoidably. He could run, but will they ever stop following him? Sooner or later, he knows he'll have to find some way of dealing with them. A whole year could pass and he would still have to be dealing with them. The thought frightens him.

He finds it incredible that some people had managed to survive such a thing for a year. Ramus lets out a shaky breath, and then turns around. He will have to find some way to deal with these beings following him, he thinks to himself. Somehow…

His train of thought is interrupted-- days of light becoming visible to him. He quickly looks upward, and gazes upon the source: a ball of golden light. The illuminating point suddenly floats gently down to Ramus’s level, as Ramus fixates on it. Suddenly, it pushes forward, away from Ramus, crashing into the lost souls. They're sent hurtling away at incredible speeds. Ramus stares, his mouth agape, as the light does the same to all the ivory figures in the area.

The light only comes to a halt once all the milky figures had been dispersed far, far away. Its rest lasts only a second, though, and it starts to slowly draw closer to Ramus. Ramus gulps, and stands inert. He fears for a second that the light will do the same to him as it did to the milky creatures. As the light comes within a few feet close to him, Ramus apprehensively takes a step back. Before coming too close, the light stops its motion entirely. Ramus stares at it for some seconds, as it just shines brightly in front of him.

A few moments later, an angelic figure is visible within the light. The light begins to fade slightly, letting off enough for Ramus to clearly see the appearance of the figure before him.

It's a man in robes and armor-- which have clearly seen many a battle. He has messy black hair, under a golden, glowing halo, topping his squarish head, with its protruding, rectangular forehead. His eyes are black beads, with a glimmer of un-deniability shining in them. His mouth is twisted in a strange yet genuine smile, showcasing his square teeth, and a small black beard rests underneath them. He has a somewhat dirty, yet strong face, and he looks tan. This man, with numerous white wings, is clearly an angel. *If he's not an angel*, Ramus thinks, *then I don't know what is.*

The man opens his mouth wider, apparently about to speak. Ramus freezes with apprehension and awe. He feels not fear for this angel, but rather, reverence. He is not afraid of what the man might say; rather, he cannot bring himself to avoid hearing what he might say. His intrigue now at its peak, Ramus experiences sweet relief as the angels mouth releases its soothing yet commanding sounds.

"NO BAD! US GOOD." The angel yells.

Ramus can't hold back from saying "What," immediately in response, followed by a "the fuck?"

The angel pounds an angular hand on his chest. Ramus notices that he's holding a wooden branch in his other hand. "I ABRAHAM! Me like stick."

"U-uh... he... llo...?" Ramus manages to moan, feeling paralyzed. A bead of nervous, confused sweat rolls down his forehead. He has no idea what has just happened, or what is currently happening, or why. Ramus stares without talking, as the angel-- Abraham, apparently-- gives a wide, toothy smile.

"Oh! Why, would you look at this splendid coincidence!" Zaion voice suddenly erupts from the pearl. "Ramus, you've now found yourself in quite good company!"

Ramus looks towards the floating pearl. Its tone seems to have mingled with that of Zaion's gleeful hum. "What's going on here?" Ramus asks.

"Isn't it obvious? This angel," Zaion explains slowly, "has boldly come to your aide."

"But who is he? And why did he save me with light? Do you know?"

"Yes, of course I know him. Why, everyone knows Mr. Abraham de Gridmasque." Zaion giggles, as if she just remembered a joke. "An original progenitor of the gridmask species. He's your ancestor."

"... ancestor?" Ramus looks at Abraham with a questioning gaze. With his hairy face, poor posture, and shapely head, Ramus can't exactly see what would make someone think this angel was related to him. "Must be very, very distant."

"Yes, his blood relation is quite distant." Zaion says. "Many millions of generations apart."

Abraham slowly blinks, still smiling at Ramus.

"Oh, and you're so incredibly blessed that he's happened across you, Ramus." Zaion says joyfully. "You know, Abraham is such a wonderful character! Truly admirable, he is. Just full of charm!"

"Hoha!!" Abraham lets out a loud laugh.

"Not much of an interesting conversationalist, is he?" Ramus remarks.

"Oh, far from it! Abraham is just a man of few words, at times. Though he's far from uninteresting." Zaion states. "But, trust me, every group of words he puts together is worth more than gold, believe me."

"..."

"As for why he decided to come out of the blue and help you?" Zaion continues. "Well, that I do not know. Perhaps you should inquire him."

Ramus turns to see Abraham's smile still wide.

"Hello..." Ramus says, extending a hand. "My name is--"

"Ramus!" Abraham exclaims.

"Yes." Ramus says, having an almost instinctive familiarity with people already knowing his name. "Thank you for helping me."

Abraham looks at Ramus's hand, and then grabs it. He looks somewhat surprised when Ramus gives a shake.

"... why did you come here?" Ramus questions.

The angel responds by pointing two fingers at him. "Ramus!"

Ramus blinks. "You came here for me? Er, why did you come here for me?" Ramus specifies.

Abraham give a confused look. "Ramus is good?" Ramus, unsure of whether or not Abraham is asking him a question, quickly says a confused yes. "Abraham are good." Abraham states simply, with a smile.

"Um..." Ramus tries to follow Abraham's line of explanatory logic. "... you helped me because you go around helping people you think are good?"

Abraham's smile seems to widen even more, if such a thing is possible.