Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Failed, such were the beings she designed.
From man, they bore the shape, but not the mind.
From sheep, they learned to follow, meek and blind.
From fish, a fleeting memory confined.

Failed, he was, a soul condemned to roam.
His life, set to turn the stone to loam.
Alone he dwelled, untouched by love or grace,
To guard the world from a wrath none could face.

A maker lost, who failed to bring to life,
A weapon forged that never sought to strife.
Between them stood a vast and deep divide,
Yet fate would bring their paths to coincide.

Uninvited in her realm he stood,
By his presence, she was caught and wooed.
But he sought flight, to flee away,
Lest past mistakes repeat one day.

She chased him like the cat and dog at play,
Their chase in stars soon to portray.
At last she caught him in her firm embrace,
So his heart was too, set aflame by her grace.

As all will know, two minus signs can blend,
And from their union, came a plus to mend.
From his destruction, life began to grow,
Crafted by her hands that love and gently sow.

Together, they created all the lands,
And gave a plan to guide each life’s demands,
So every being, small or towering height,
Might live released, freed from their combined might.

For millennia, they watched the stars take form,
And suns and planets gather, bright and warm.
The oceans swelled beneath the newborn sky,
And from their depths, life rose and learned to try.

When living first created the bond of kin,
A longing stirred again deep from within.
She turned again to works that once had failed,
And breathed them full of life their love unveiled.

The path ahead was tangled, strange, unsure,
With neither guide nor instinct to secure.
For once, the makers turned to what they’d made,
And learned from those whose lives their hands had laid.

A thousand errors marked their early ways,
But a thousand and one times, they rose always.
Yet when their children soared on wings their own,
The worst arrived, a fate untold, unknown.

One day, without a word, the Destroyer left,
A search began, their hopes and fears were cleft.
The universe was scoured far and wide,
Each being questioned, none could help provide.

The cost was grave, the pain unmeasured deep,
The Creator trapped in sorrow's shadowed keep.
Their children left alone without a guide,
As one among them fell from grace, denied.

But all this makes me stop and wonder why,
What causes an immortal to fade and die?

Chapter Text

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, stood countless volcanoes whose peaks touched storm clouds pulsing with reddish electricity. The rivers of lava flowing from their molten cores plunged into the cracked earth, creating an incredible panorama composed of black, brown, red, and gray. And in the middle of them, sat what appeared to be a young woman, bored to- No, no that's right. Here she couldn't.

She glanced at the ground, then at the sky, then back at the ground. From time to time, she took a sip from her bottle, hissed, and yet returned to this strange state of non-activity. 

Sometimes boredom became too strong and she looked instead of seeing. In those moments, she noticed that there was no real difference, visually speaking, between the ground and the sky as the cracked black stones mirrored the clouds above, split open by streaks of red lightning.

In one of those moments, she asked herself this question, this useless question : Was the rock really black? Or was it the ash from the nearby volcanoes that gave it its color? She could ask her boss. She was old enough to know after all.

...

Yeah, no. Bad idea. Too tiring, too annoying. She had better things to do. Speaking of which-

She looked at her bottle and took another sip of the infernal brew.

Part of her wanted to vomit.

She hated every sip of it. The taste, the smell, the texture, the aftertaste, even the look of that cloudy liquid—and hell, she couldn't stand the bottle itself.

And yet it was she who made it. She who scavenged the glass from the newcomers. She who melted them down in the lava of one of the many volcanoes dotting the horizon.

How long had it taken her again? Months? Years? Decades?

Or maybe just a few hours?

She didn’t know anymore. It had been too long.

It's not easy when you’ve lived- Wait, no. Bad wording- When you’ve existed this long and everything around you is so... warped.

Time doesn’t make sense. Neither does the weather. And people too.

Maybe once, but pfft... she’d stopped trying to figure it out.

Then again... had she ever tried? Hell, she couldn’t even remember that.

Everything ends up looking the same down here. You either suffer, or you're lucky enough to be assigned the extra task of making others suffer.

And thus, until the end.

She’d long ago concluded that whether you were a prisoner or a warden, in the end, everyone down here was condemned.

That thought alone made her take another sip.

At least there was no one around to bother her. Not even her sister.

That very thought earned itself another sip.

Her sister... probably the worst part of it all. She didn’t even remember why she still called her like that. All day long, her only pastime was to bother her. Not the others. Just her.

Sometimes she asked the skies above why they had to awaken at the same time, or why she was a demon.

But they never responded.

All these memories did one thing: piss her off. And guess what her remedy for anger was?

Another sip.

Once again, she nearly spat it out. But booze was booze. Pfft. What she wouldn’t give for some vodka. But to get it, you had to go through Charon. And she was still mid-crossing.

She glanced at the bottle. There was still some left. She hesitated-

But nature decided for her.

She passed out cold, hand still wrapped tightly around the bottle.

Just another ordinary rest day for Malina.

As she was sorting files, the clattering of a keyboard reached her ears. Today was a hectic day, much busier than usual, anyway. A lot of sinners had just arrived.

There must’ve been a war up there.

She had only one desire: to be done with it. Then, she’d go back to trying to figure out what her 'thing' was.

The next items on her list were : drawing, volleybone, and something else—she hadn’t quite understood what it was. Something like a game... on video?

Just from the name, she could already tell she wouldn't like it. But she’d try, just to be polite.

"Hey, sis, you coming?" A voice broke into Malina’s thoughts. Of course, she knew who it was. Who else could it be? But still, there was something off in the tone. As she turned around, slipping into that tone of voice she’d spent years perfecting, equal parts disappointment and exhaustion, she understood why. "What is it, Zdrada? What did..."

Perfect. That was the only way to describe her.

It had been so long since she’d seen her like that.

So long since she’d seen her sister in that state.

Since she’d seen her older sister.

Since she’d seen the person she used to look up to the most.

She looked so damn beautiful.

A dream. Of course, she was dreaming. How else could she see her again like this?

Just as you could recognize a living being as a human based on their features, you could also recognize a demon by the traits they shared with one another. First of all, they all looked like young women and were all, without exception, breathtakingly beautiful, with faces so perfectly shaped it was as if someone had sculpted them by hand with the utmost care and love. Their flawless, pale skin only enhanced that impression and their silvery white hair seemed to catch and reflect the surrounding light and created a striking contrast with their ebony-black horns. To complete the picture of their faces, their long black lashes intensified the beauty of their irises, crimson as fresh blood, and their small but sharp canines added a subtle hint of danger that made them all the more tantalizing.

Also, as clothing choices were limited down here, they all wore, except for one, variations of the same outfit. It consisted of a red button-up long-sleeve shirt with a wide folded collar, layered beneath a black blazer, and optionally a black tie. For the lower half, there were two options: either a black pencil skirt that revealed stocking-clad legs, or black pants. For footwear, one could go with shoes, heels, or black knee-high boots.

And at last, we can’t forget their black, arrow-tipped tails that added a touch of cuteness to their whole appearance.

Of course, just like humans in general, no two demonesses were exactly alike. Zdrada, for instance, stood out in many ways. She kept her hair short and wild, most of it forming uneven bangs that covered her left eye. She’d also just gotten her ear pierced for the first time; that way, she could finally wear the earring her superior had given her for her excellent work. As for the dress code, Zdrada followed it to the letter, opting for the pants, shoes, and, of course, the tie.

Her posture also set her apart from most demons.

She always seemed relaxed, as if no problem was truly one. Hands behind her back, posture straight, no wrinkles on her face. She had style. She also insisted on keeping her right eye, the one covered, shut. She thought it made her look cooler.

Malina agreed.

Back then, one of her dreams was to be just like her.

As strong. As funny. As smart. As... everything. When Zdrada opened her right eye, it always seemed to sparkle with something Malina had never seen in anyone else.

One day, Malina would learn it was hope.

But for now...

"You okay? You're staring at me weirdly."

Again, it had been so long since she’d seen her like this.

Might as well enjoy it.

"No, it’s nothing. What’s up?" Zdrada opened her eye, sparkling with joy.

"E...... .e?" A sound echoed in the back of her head.

"Did you forget?" She opened her eye and smiled one of the widest smiles Malina had ever seen. "The welcome party the CEO talked about last time? It's today! All the other demons will be there! I'll finally get to meet Judgement! You know, I've heard some crazy stories about her from my boss! Oh, and you two can finally meet, too! You'll see, she’s so damn cool, you’ll love her!"

Ah. So it was that memory.

She stood up from her chair. Not taking a second glance at her monitor. "You're done with your work?" asked her sister. "Nah. I’ll finish it later. It’s not like they can get out of here anyway."

"E...s. .e?" Again, that sound.

"Oh, right! But still, be careful-" She leaned in close and whispered: "I’ve heard from Justice that Pandemonica can get reeeaaally nasty when she wants to."

"Yeah, I know, Modeus told me that once she’s had her coffee, she turns into someone else entirely. She even told me that she got herself a special room built just so she could punish sinners personally."

"E.c.s. .e?" Again.

They headed toward the door when Zdrada suddenly stopped. "Hey, sis." "Yeah?" "I’m glad I awakened with you."

Malina took her time to reply. She remembered what would come in the future: all the teasing, the cigarette smoke blown in her face, all the times Zdrada hid her games, the constant "Nerd!". Also, all the Malinkas. Especially the Malinkas.

But in the end: "Me too."

She opened the door and-/"Excuse-"

Bumped into someone's chin./"m-Aie!"

Rubbing her head to try and chase the pain away, Malina was too dazed to see what the person who had interrupted her sleep looked like.

Which was strange, after all, she had picked this place because she knew no one could find her here.

Even stranger: she couldn’t put a face on the voice.

"Are you okay?" Now that was something even stranger. A demon asking if you’re okay? That wasn’t just rare, it was flat-out impossible. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the figure pull something out of a bag.

"Do you need anything? I’ve got bandages or disinfectant if you want?" And now she was offering her help? To her? A demon? Someone who doesn’t need to be treated?

"Sorry-" Oh, and now she was apologizing too. Of course. "-I just really need help. I’ve been lost for hours, and you’re the first person I’ve seen. Do you know where we are?" And then, for absolutely no good reason, the voice began to sound… embarrassed? "I mean, only if you don’t mind, of course!"

Alright, that was enough. Who was this demon who apologized, asked if she was okay, offered her help without even waiting for an answer, didn’t know where they were, and, worst of all, who Malina didn’t even know who she was?! She lifted her head and-

Oh.

Oh. That wasn’t a demon.

He wasn't even a she.

The first thing she saw was his big, round eyes. Big round green eyes. Then came the rest of his face, round with soft cheeks with two sets of freckles, four in each, arranged into perfect symmetrical diamonds on both sides. His face was framed by a short mop of fluffy dark green hair that seemed at odds with the very concept of grooming. Then came his hand, the one offering the medical supplies, and by extension, the outfit he was wearing. He was dressed kind of like she was on formal days: a red tie, black pants held by a leather belt, and a white shirt under a blazer of the opposite color. That shirt made all the difference, softening his whole look compared to her own.

Right now, he had crouched down to be at her eye level. She was still on the ground after all.

He reminded her of an herbivore. Or more broadly, something… cute.

Not that she’d seen any cute animals in her life. The only 'animal' around here was Cerberus, and for Malina, she went from 'kind of cute' to 'completely unbearable' in a fraction of a second.

He shouldn't be here.

And why isn't he marked?

"Are you alright?" Oh right, he was talking. What had he asked again? Oh yeah where they were. Malina responded with the first thing that came to mind: "The Hell?"

"You don’t know either? Oh…" He let out a sigh. "I have no idea how I ended up here. I remember grading papers and heading to bed when bam! I fell out of the sky and I landed here."

He must have mistaken her shocked expression for something else, because as soon as he looked at her again, he blurted out quickly, flustered: "Oh but I’m really happy I found you! And thanks again for everything!" Everything? What had she done? "It’s just nice to know I’m not alone! By the way, have you seen anyb-" Pause. She put a hand in front of his mouth and glanced between him and her bottle. After a moment of reflection, she made two very important decisions:

1) She pointed him toward the person most likely to handle this whole mess.

"Oh, thank you!" He took a step forward, then stopped abruptly. "Can I go with you? I-I just don’t want to end up lost aga-” “No.” 2) She finished the rest of the bottle and promptly passed out again.

Surprised and unsure what to do, the young man figured that lying there like that, she might catch a cold. He took off his jacket and laid it over her like a blanket. He hoped she’d wake up soon, but as the minutes passed and her snoring grew louder, so too did his desire to go home.

When that desire became too much, the young man saw no other choice. Muttering quiet apologies, he lifted her onto his back and began walking.

And so, Izuku Midoriya resumed his journey into the unknown.

Chapter Text

In the direction Malina had pointed stood a small, windowless building made of black bricks, only one story high. If it weren’t the only one for miles around, no one would ever notice it.

Upon pushing the door, you'd find yourself inside an office. On the floor, you would see several piles of documents scattered all across the room, a testament of the overwhelming workload of the office's occupant. You would also see, on the right-hand wall, a grey elevator leading to who knows where and, ont the left hand-wall a crimson one, adorned in sigils and pentagrams. After all, who needs an elevator, let alone two, in a building that's only one floor high? Finally, what you wouldn't see, hidden behind the piles of documents, was a desk made up of black wood with silver accents and, surprisingly, no chair behind it. That didn't seem to bother its owner, who was working nonetheless.

With her nose deep in her documents, a pale-skinned, red-eyed woman sat in focused silence. Her long and wavy silvery-white hair naturally fell into several large curls: three rested on her forehead, two formed at the ends of the strands that reached down both sides of her head, tucked neatly behind her ears, and curled inward near her cheeks, framing her face. The rest was gathered into her ponytail. To conclude this description, a small cowlick also stuck out from the top of her head and she wore round-framed glasses that didn't manage to hide the huge dark circles under her eyes.

As for her clothes, she wore a red button-up long-sleeve shirt with a wide folded collar, layered beneath a black blazer. She also had a black pencil skirt, from under which an arrow-tipped tail emerged, that, at the moment, she was using to grab another pen for her to use, and revealed her stocking-clad legs, ending in a pair of black knee-high boots. To complete her office look, she wore an ID card where she showcased her best exhausted expression.

This is what Pandemonica, the hellish secretary, the tired demon, looked like.

As she was the CEO’s right hand, Pandemonica was the one in charge of all new arrivals and, more broadly, the entire logistics operation.

In short, someone very, very important.

And like all days, she was working on the very same piles of documents that littered her floor.

Click Click Click Ding-chhhk

She finally finished file number 81570241. That one took her quite some time. Time to move on to file number 81570242.

Click Click Click

Do you hear that sound? It was the one made by her typewriter.

Click Click Click

She liked it. Both the sound and the machine that produced it.

Click Click Click

Charon had brought it to her over... 300 years ago. Or was it 200 years ago? Well, it's not that important.

Click Click Click Ding-chhhk

She’d taken great care of it, like she did with all her other belongings.

Click Click Click

After all, a good job requires good tools.

DRIIIIING

Ah, time to go. But first...

Ding-chhhk

Oh, how she loved that particular sound. She basked in this small moment of satisfaction, then grabbed her red clipboard and her favorite pen. A black one with golden accents.

First stop on her audit: the offices.

Ding

Earlier, the building was described as being only one story high, but I also mentioned there was an elevator. Normally, one would exclude the other. This confusion may be due to me leaving one detail out, but frankly, you should have figured it out. After all, everybody knows that down here, you don’t rise, you only fall deeper. As such, this building may be only one story high, but it’s 665 stories deep.

And Pandemonica had just arrived at the first of them.

Ding

Before her stretched a vast open space made up of thousands and thousands of desks, each occupied by a template demon. You see, humanity may have invented the computer in the 20th century, and the concept even before, but here it had been applied long before both. In these offices, each template demon was a processor, and each Skeleton a Bus.

Pandemonica’s role was to ensure maximum efficiency. This involved reviewing all the documents and conducting audits, like the one she was currently performing.

Pandemonica performed the usual checks. Was each template demon at her station? Were the pens or stacks of paper running out? The computers turned on? The typewriters still in good condition? Was there a Skeleton traffic jam?

After a full sweep of the thousands of desks, while doing her best not to dwell on how much slower she was compared to previous times, she checked off every box on her list and noted down which supplies needed replacing. For instance, it seemed that one of the skeletons had slipped and, in the fall, broken a desk, rendering the assigned template demon unable to perform her tasks.

She also noted a slight pile-up of unattended files, which, based on her calculations, wasn’t entirely this template demon’s fault. As such, she made a note : more template demons will have to be roused in the next cycle.

She really looked forward to the next shipment.

The last one was starting to feel like ages ago. Only a few hundred pens remained, as well as a few dozen typewriters, and there had never been any surplus of computers. More urgently, there were only a few hundred thousand sheets of paper left. It may seems like a lot, but when you’re getting tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of new arrivals a day, it really isn’t.

Fortunately, according to the CEO’s calculations, Charon was expected to return before the shortage became critical.

But that was only if Pandemonica did her job properly. So she got back to it.

Ding Ding

Time to head down to office floor number 2.

Ding Ding

To office floor number 3.

Ding Ding

Office floor number 4.

Ding Ding

Ding Ding

Office floor number 332 finished!

Time for step two of the audit: The Four Paths.

Pandemonica needed to ensure they were running at full capacity. A mere malfunction down there could throw off the entire schedule of every demon.

And for that, she needed to start where the Four Paths began: the Separator.

Diing

Pandemonica stepped once again into the elevator, her mind already reviewing the upcoming inspections, when she made a mistake. Her arm brushed lightly against the railing.

In an instant, one of her legs gave out, pulling the rest of her body with it. She was forced, once again, to remember her current state.

Demons were tougher than humans. For example, they didn’t need 7 to 8 hours of sleep to function properly. But that didn’t mean they didn’t need any.

There was a reason Pandemonica didn't have a chair; she never sat down! As the slightest comfort could send her straight into Morpheus’s arms. And for operations to run smoothly, she couldn’t afford that.

And in case you were wondering, that was just a metaphor. Morpheus didn’t come down here.

She was also reminded about coffee. Her sacred-Ha-drink, the one she longed for every night. The last beans had been used decades ago. Now all she had left was the residue, and it had neither the taste nor the kick of the real thing.

Diing

Right. Focus. The Separator.

Passing between the skeletons guarding the place, she approached the gigantic infernal gate, mentally reviewing the form, position, and purpose of each rune along the way. She also noted the area was in desperate need of repairs. She nearly tripped several times over cracks, and the uneven ground reminded her, once again, how exhausted she felt.

"Ma’am!"

Runes 1 and 2... check.

"Ma’am!"

Runes 3 and 4... check.

"Ma’am!"

Runes 5 and 6... check.

"Ma’am!!!"

And finally Runes 665 and 666... check!

Time to deal with the unhappy client.

She turned towards him, trying to force on herself a smile, one that, due to her exhaustion, looked more like a frown, and replied “Customer Service, hello. How can I help you?”

"Where the hell are we? One moment I was in my room, just finished grading papers, and now I’m standing here in this line! What the hell is going on?! Why are there skeletons everywhere?! Why are people red?! Why can't I touch them?! Why isn’t anyone else answering me?! What’s going to happen to me?!"

Rubbing her head to try and chase away the headache she felt coming on, did he really have to scream? Pandemonica replied "Well, sir, what I can tell you is that you’re no longer on Earth and that due to your past actions, you are now in the hands of our service. But don't worry, you will soon be sent to our specialized institutions where you will receive the treatment you deserve."

“But–Khhhk?!” Once again, why did he have to shout? She was standing right in front of him, and it wasn’t going to do his case any good. She-Snap-her fingers and a Skeleton came over and grabbed the black-haired man by the throat.

Oh, I didn’t tell you? Yes, his hair was black. Stop worrying about him. He's not the one you came here for.

And even if he was, which I'll remind you that he isn't, he doesn't deserve it.

With all that had just happened, Pandemonica forgot where she had left off. So she looked at her checklist and saw the checkbox : Ensure the Separator is properly calibrated.

A dark, cruel light flickered in her eyes. A terrifying smile stretched across her face, and her horns even seemed to grow slightly. The man had never been more terrified in his 'life'. Pandemonica had just come up with a potential way to speed up her audit. And if it didn’t quite work?

Well, it would still be pleasurable.

"Apologies for the inconvenience, dear client. As compensation, we’d like to offer you the honor of being the first to try out our Separator." "Khhhk?!" "Oh, don’t worry. It’s not nearly as painful as what comes after. Think of it as... training."

With another Snap, the Skeleton shoved the man halfway through the Separator. When he retracted his arm, the man came back screaming in pain.

Pandemonica’s smile only deepened. Ah, such sweet music to her ears.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!" "My apologies again, dear client-” “-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!" "-but if I could just trouble you for a moment with a quick survey? Do you have five minutes?" "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

Aaah~… it was so much better than the sound of her typewriter.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Well, time to get back to work.

She smacked him on the head with her clipboard and asked: “Dear client, it’s time to answer. Have you seen: A) Humans? B) Cocoons? C) Ghosts? D) Catacombs? E) Option E? or F) Something else?”

The man, whose excruciating pain had been brought down to the level of stubbing your pinky toe, thanks to the infernal clipboard hit, was thoroughly confused. What had he just experienced? Was all of this the doing of a quirk? And plenty of other questions that were probably fascinating to him, but of no interest to you, me, or Pandemonica.

Snap. Once more, the Skeleton tightened his grip around the man’s throat. "Dear client, I apologize again for the inconvenience. But you see, you and I are on a schedule. So for your own good, I must ask you to answer the survey. Understood?" The man nodded and in return, the Skeleton loosened his grip, and Pandemonica let out a "Good boy" which made the man blush, though it wasn't really visible with the choking he'd just suffered. "B! I saw the B! There were-" He immediately stopped when he saw her fingers preparing to snap again. Another "Good boy" was let out as she approached the portal.

After tapping a few runes, she-Snap-her fingers once more, and the Skeleton shoved him halfway into the portal again.

He came back out with another scream of pain. Once she’d enjoyed it enough, Pandemonica smacked him again with her clipboard. "Why?! I did everything you asked! Why-?!" Smack. "Oh dear client, the survey isn’t over yet. You still have 330 floors to verify. Let’s continue, shall we? Have you seen : A)..."

Whoever said work and pleasure couldn’t go hand in hand?

It certainly wasn’t Pandemonica.

Thanks to the dear client, Pandemonica was now ahead of schedule. A wide smile had stretched across her lips, well, as wide as her face could allow it, and she was on her way to the final step of her audit: Collecting requests from the other demons.

It was the step she hated the most. Like the sour demon, Pandemonica couldn’t stand interacting with the others.

At least the 'relaxation session' had put her in a good mood. That meant that Zdrada would take a bit longer to ruin it.

Ding

Back at her office, she made her way to the exit, already reaching for the handle when-

Bonk.

She bumped into... Malina’s sleeping head? And a human body?!

"Huh. Good morning?"

Upon seeing this, Pandemonica had only one thought:

"Fu-"

Chapter Text

"Mine! Mine!" On the face of a gigantic cliff, shrouded in thick mist, stood an equally gigantic tree. Its wood was as black as coal, and its ledges were covered in thorns that ranged from the smallest you’d ever seen to the largest you could possibly imagine, making it impossible to walk on them. Every day, the damned would begin their ascent, continue it, or fail.

Why? You may ask.

For the same reason that drives everyone who ends up here.

For power.

The power to be free.

And today, a new soul had just obtained the key.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! I got it! I finally got it!” After what had felt like months, maybe even years of effort, he had finally made it. It was right there, just in front of him! "Back off! It’s mine!" But his joy became short-lived when he felt someone grab his leg. It was another damned soul, just like him.

He tried to kick him off, but it was no use. The newcomer wouldn’t let go, no matter what. He kept struggling until, with one sharp pull, the climber below managed to make him lose his grip, sending him tumbling into the endless chasm.

Without wasting a single thought on what he had just done, the murderer climbed the remaining distance toward the key and, unlike his last victim, didn’t waste any time picking it.

In his hand now rested a golden apple. It was the subject of countless rumors among the damned of this circle, though they all told more or less the same story. According to them, whoever ate one would be freed from their retribution.

The problem? There was only one. And it had to be eaten whole. If you left even a bite unfinished, freedom would become an unreachable goal.

The man had fallen here back in the 17th century, and since then he had never stopped climbing, forcing his way toward this supernatural fruit.

And now that he had it, he couldn’t help but touch it, smell it, admire it.

The aroma it gave off was exquisite. Just by holding it, he could feel it would be bursting with juice, a delicious juice, without a doubt.

With his mouth wide open, he was about to sink his teeth into the flesh of the fruit when, all of a sudden, he heard his jailer’s voice. “Sup, bro.”

It was Zdrada.

She had changed a lot since Malina’s dream days, back when she still looked all neat and proper. The result of the many revelations she’d been subjected to since.

Nowadays, she had ditched the blazer and only kept the shirt, leaving the top buttons undone. She’d also taken on a few accessories, namely a cigarette, there was always one between her fingers or in her mouth, an arm brace on her right arm and a wrist cuff on her left. And after Charon’s last delivery, she’d managed to get her hands on some black eyeshadow, and ever since, she wore it constantly. And remember that single earring she had? Well, now it was a piercing and it was no longer alone. She’d added several more to her ears, plus one on her nose, another on her lip, one on her tongue, one on her navel, and one last one on a place I’d rather not tell you about.

There might be kids listening.

Speaking of which, kids, let me warn you.

Go grab a bottle from the kitchen drawer.

I know you won’t stop here, so might as well go all in.

She was standing just above him, on one of the branches of the cursed tree, her cheeks flushed red and her lips tightly pressed together. Why? I won’t tell you. Use your imagination, you bunch of degenerates.

“So, you’re the new dumbass, huh?”

Terrified, he held the golden apple high above his head. “No! You can’t touch me! I’ve got the apple! I earned it! It’s mine! I’m free! Never again will I—!”-Pssshhhhhh-“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!” Zdrada had just used his forehead as an ashtray. Soon, the sound of her laughter mixed with the rest of the ambient cacophony.

The pain was unbearable, enough to make him lose his grip and tumble toward the depths beneath the tree.

But he didn’t fall. Zdrada had received orders and, as such, he didn't receive the full extent of his reward.

Catching his arm mid-fall, she swung him with a quick jerk and sent him flying upward, making him land on one of the tree’s ledges, one of the rare ones that only had small thorns. The largest among them couldn’t even pierce through a finger completely.
It didn’t stop him from suffering, and the constant scratching, like a swarm of mosquito bites, only heightened his misery.

His mind was spinning in every direction, trying to find answers to the endless questions that now defined his existence. Questions like “Why am I still here?”, “What’s going to happen to me?” or “Why did she save me?”

By the time Zdrada walked back up, he thought he’d found an answer. “I know why you did it!” She raised an eyebrow. “Why I did what?” “Why you saved me! It’s because I have the apple, isn’t it? You have to let me leave this place!” At the sheer wonkiness of his reasoning, Zdrada laughed out loud. But the man, lost in his delusion, believed he had passed some kind of test, solved the mystery, and that was why she was laughing, to congratulate him.

Ah… if only he knew Zdrada a little better.

“Hahaha, I just have one question for you before-hahahaha-which apple are you talking about? Hahaha…” Confused, he shouted, “What do you mean, which apple? This apple right... th-?” He realized, mid-sentence, that the apple he was holding was no longer golden. Instead, it had turned a deep crimson red. “NO! WHERE IS IT?! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH IT?!” He grabbed Zdrada’s shirt and clenched it in his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. In return, she grabbed his arm and twisted it, not enough to break it, but just enough to make the pain force him to let go of her clothes.

Then, with a mocking smile, she pulled an apple from her pocket, the golden one, of course. “Nope, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Must’ve hit your head on the way up. Climbing is dangerous, you know, you can get hurt so easily. Some even fall.” The man barely heard her, too busy screaming things like “THIEF!” or “IT’S MINE!”

Seeing he was about to reach his breaking point, Zdrada knew it was time to finish this.

“Hey, dumbass. Look at this.” She bit into the golden apple, relishing in the sight of his shattered hopes. “Wait, it’s not over yet.”

Little by little, light began to glow in Zdrada’s throat, then in the back of her mouth. When it reached her lips, the man realized this light wasn’t divine or even supernatural. It was the glow of flames.

'That could have been me.'

The moment this revelation struck him, Zdrada’s cheeks began to burn and, from there, the fire spread across her entire face. But contrary to what you might expect, Zdrada didn’t scream in pain. Quite the opposite. “Aaaaahhh~… mmm, oh yeah… that’s the good stuff…”

Now, all the man could see were flames and, at their center, two glowing red orbs and a little lower, a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth.

“Aaaahh~ and by the way, dumbass… this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you. Oh yeah~ What is it now? The third? Fourth time? Right there~”

“What’s going to happen to me?” he asked, terrified.

“Mmmm~ The same thing as last time. Now, this belongs to me-” she picked up the crimson apple, her dessert “-and you belong down there.”

She shoved him into the void.

Let’s not beat around the bush, Zdrada’s a bitch.

It even became her nickname: the Bitch Demon.

If there were a popularity contest organized here, I assure you Zdrada would come in dead last.

The only ones who could tolerate her, sometimes, were Pandemonica and Modeus, but only during their special activities.

Again, maybe kids are listening.

By the way, kids, how was the bottle? Hope Mommy and Daddy drink well!

After replacing the golden apple with another identical one she had in her pocket, Zdrada jumped from branch to branch, the flames dying out on their own and her face healing as it went on, and quickly reached the top of the cliff. There, she found a cheap plastic chair, a few packs of cigarettes, and six-packs of beer.

On that point, you could really tell they were sisters.

It was on that chair, smoking or sipping one of her drinks, that Zdrada would wait for the next fool to reach for the apple, well, one of the many apples.

But today wasn’t like any other day.

All of a sudden, the ground began to tremble, and from the bowels of the earth rose an elevator made of black metal, adorned with several seals and pentagrams.

Those of you who’ve been paying attention to this story will recognize it as the other elevator from Pandemonica’s office.

Zdrada walked toward it as the doors opened with a screech. “Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it, Mist-Malinka!” Yep. It was her sister! Holding a notepad in one hand and Pandemonica’s favorite pen in the other!

What can I say, her happiness is contagious!

But her sister seems to be immune.

“That’s not my name.” An immediate response. But Zdrada didn’t care. “-You showed up at the perfect time! I was just about to come see you!” She elbowed her. “You saved me the trip. Really cool of you, sis!” Normally, Malinka-sorry, Malina-would’ve replied with a “Go fuck yourself.” To which Zdrada would’ve answered “With pleasure! Want a threesome?”

But today was already really weird, so instead she asked, while her sister gave her a noogie, “And why exactly were you coming to see me?”

Maybe it was the dream she had earlier, and all the memories it dredged up. Or maybe it was something else. Either way, Malina allowed herself a small shred of hope- “Bah. To watch you ragequit one of your nerd games and laugh at your misery. Why else?”

Well, fuck hope and “Go fuck yourself.” “With pleasure! Want a threesome?” I told you, like clockwork. “Never.” Zdrada pouted. “Oh. You never want to do anything with me.” A single tear rolled down her cheek.

Malina wasn’t fooled. She knew it was fake.

“Ah, I remember when you used to follow me everywhere. You were so cute back then! But now? Look what booze and your nerd games have done to you! You’re always in a bad mood, you don’t talk to anyone, and you spend all your time locked in your room doing nerd stuff.”

Violently, Malina slipped out from under Zdrada’s arm and shot back “And whose fault is that, bitch?! And they’re great games! And it’s not nerd stuff! It's Painting! And you still owe me a Slaanesh figurine!”

Zdrada, having only actually listened to the first part and just heard the rest, smiled a predatory, carnivorous smile. “Oh, I’m not complaining, I like you better like this.” She licked her lips as she eyed Malina up. “You look even more delicious now.”

Although she had appeared before, I never really described Malina, so I think this is the perfect opportunity to do so.

Let’s skip the hair, eyes, horns, tail, and skin part. In that regard, she was identical to all the other demons. So, silvery-white, red, small and black, black and forked, and fair.

That said, her hair was styled in a messy bob. A unique hairstyle down there.

When it came to clothes, she wasn’t any more original than the others.

Under a black, buttoned, sleeveless vest, she wore a red shirt with sleeves folded just below her elbows and almost entirely buttoned to the top, only the top button was undone. But let’s be honest, who ever wears it like that? For the bottom, she wore a pencil skirt over a set of black pantyhose. She also liked to wear three thin black bangles on each wrist and paint her nails black. As for the tie, it depended on the moment sometimes she wore it, sometimes she didn’t.

What really set her apart was that she always looked pissed off. The reigning champion of that category. Why? There’s a list of possible reasons: the constant hangover, her sister, the realization that nothing would ever change her life, the hangover, her job, the fact that she had no friends, no dreams or goals in life, and did I mention the hangover?

It was her eternal frown that earned her the nickname: Malina, the Sour Demon.

Okay, back to the story.

She found Zdrada repulsive. "Let’s get this over with so I don’t have to see your goddamn face any longer. You need something?" Malina snapped.

"Oh, You don't know how to have fun anym-" "Okay, I’m leaving." Zdrada stopped her with a forced hug. "Oh, fine. I just need some fertilizer and a little water from Tartarus and… no, that’s all."

Malina noted it down and stepped back into the elevator, having also slipped from her sister's hug.

She had become an expert on that matter.

"Good-What the hell are you doing?!" Imagine her surprise when her sister also stepped into the elevator. With a mischievous smile on her lips, Zdrada replied, "Well, I’m coming with my sis! I’m a good big sister, after all!"

Rubbing her face with her hand, eyes rolling to the ceiling, Malina groaned, thinking about the bottle of booze, no, the two bottl-no three- ugh, the many bottles she’d need to digest the time she just spent with her sister.

"So, who are we visiting? Cerberus? Justice? Oh—Modeus! Is it Modeus?!" "You were the last one,” Malina replied, pressing one of the elevator buttons. "Oh, sis…"

The ride back was extremely unpleasant for Malina. At first, Zdrada wouldn’t stop talking to her. Then, seeing she didn’t reply, she decided to dance to the elevator music, bobbing her head and hips.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EnDXGQmCz3U

But the most infuriating part for the Sour Demon was that her own body started following her sister’s movements.

Damn this catchy music.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the arena.

CRASH

Here, violence reigns.

SLASH

Bones are broken.

CRACK

Horrors are inflicted upon flesh.

RIP

And as for eyes and other parts, well...

PLOP

Let’s not talk about those, shall we?

Every day, endless battles raged on, every fighter for themselves. No weapons could be found here, leaving them with only one option : their bodies.

But something was wrong in the arena.

It was strangely quiet. Normally, there would be many more screams and the sound of things breaking.

It had to be the fault of the new champion.

He was a hulking giant, a recent addition to the roster. Three meters tall, arms bigger than a tree's trunk, with muscle fibers covering every inch of his body, making him look even more imposing than the former Number One Hero. All thanks to his quirk.

Up there, they called him Muscular. Down here, he was Wrath Number 12568909.

He had died of a heart attack. His most important muscle overworked. A cruel irony for this man. One he deserved.

As usual, he stood on a pile of fresh corpses. It was he who took their non-life. Truth be told, he was greatly advantaged in this place, as here, everyone succumbed to blind anger. As a result, people like him, the naturally strong, were given an advantage. An unfair one.

It created a problem in this beautiful machine of torture, a grain of sand grinding its gears.

Only one solution.

Call the police.

"Yo, did you do all that? That’s awesome!"

From atop the pile, he snarled at the newcomer, drool and foam spilling from his mouth, bloodshot eyes glaring, and without hesitation, hurled himself at her, fist first.

For the untrained eye, the result was obvious : the giant would crush the barely 1.7m woman.

But what the untrained observer wouldn’t know was that, of all the opponents Muscular had fought, she was the most awesome, and by far.

To his punch, she responded with her own.

BOOM

A terrible shockwave rippled out, raising a massive cloud of dust, flinging corpses aside, and knocking down those standing even kilometers away.

The ground split apart, forever marking this battle in stone.

"Wow, you’re pretty strong!"

When the dust cleared, their two figures stood still like statues, fist against fist.

RIP

Suddenly, Muscular’s fibers burst apart. Falling to his knees, he screamed a deep "AAAAAHHH!!!"

As for the jailer, she was doing just fine.

"I wonder… were you stronger up there, or are you stronger now?" She shadow-boxed with a grin. "I’m really impressed. Each batch, you guys get just a little bit tougher."

The giant rose again, activating his quirk and producing even more fibers than before. "RAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

That made her smile even wider. "Want some more?! Me too!"

As he reeled his fist back, so did she. 

BOOM

Like before, another sonic boom exploded outward. But this time, Muscular resisted, even finding the strength to throw another punch.

But she wasn’t falling behind.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

The longer the fight went on, the more the earth fractured, and the more Muscular grew, adding fibers upon fibers. Every blow he threw carried the intent to kill, but against an opponent of her caliber, intent alone was not enough.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

Even in his rage, Muscular began to realize something. Every one of his blows met with one of hers. And yet, he was constantly pushing past his limits, each strike was faster and stronger than the last.

But for her, it was different. Not a single drop of sweat. Not a single grimace betraying effort. Nothing.

There was only one conclusion.

She wasn’t going all out.

She was matching his pace.

She was playing with him.

This realization drove him into an even greater fury, a rage never before seen in the arena.

All the instincts he had honed in life were forgotten. Now, he swung his arms like a raging bear, charging like a wild boar.

RIP

This time, it wasn’t just his fibers that tore apart. It was his very arms.

Unable even to lift them, Muscular did the first desperate thing his murderous instincts demanded.

Crush her with his entire body.

Now weighing nearly half a ton of pure muscle, his fall should have flattened his opponent.

But she had other plans.

Digging her fingers into the fibers of his chest like a judoka grabbing her opponent’s gi, she performed what looked like a judo throw, and shouted at the top of her lungs, with the purest and brightest joy:

"SUPER TECHNIQUE: HELL’S DIVER!!!"

BOOM

On impact, a massive crater formed, the shock felt to the farthest reaches of the arena.

Muscular lay on his back, his opponent standing over him, a warm smile on her lips.

"That was a great fight. I can’t wait to trade fists with you again."

"Me too…" he answered in a strange moment of lucidity. Perhaps it was because he was meeting, for the second time, the one mortals were only meant to see once.

Death.

She placed a small card on his chest. "Here’s my calling card. Use it when you’re ready." She lifted her sunglasses and gave him a wink.

Smiling, Muscular dissolved into dust.

One day, he would return. Such was the nature of this place.

Having restored order, the demon walked away until she noticed, in one of the fissures, a body Muscular had been sitting on. It twitched, and slowly, painfully, the broken prisoner lifted his head, his shattered body knitting itself back together. With great effort, he whispered : "Th… thaank… youuu…"

She grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. "No problem." She turned away, but after a few steps, looked back and added : "You’re pretty awesome, you know. I’m sure one day you’ll get out of here."

Tears streamed down the prisoner’s face.

Thus was Justice, the Awesome Demon.

"So is this… here? No, it must be over here. And this-" Buried nose-deep in Pandemonica’s paperwork, Izuku Midoriya's musings were cut short by the ding of the front door.

“Alright, Malina, I’m done. What did you want to talk ab-?” Her question was cut short by the 'sight' of him. "Oh!" Did she exclaim as she circled around him. "Oooooh." She pinched his cheeks and poked his face. "Woooaaah, now this-" She took his head gently between her hands and turned it slightly, as if it were porcelain. "-is hard to believe. An unmarked one. I didn’t know that was possible." After what seemed like an eternity to the examined, Justice finally finished her inspection with a "Now that’s awesome!" 

Meanwhile, Izuku Midoriya was blushing furiously. At twenty-four years old, he could count on one hand the times a woman he thought beautiful had gotten this close to him. And of a beautiful woman, Justice was a prime example.

While she examined him, he couldn’t help but admire her. How her short hair, tied back into a small ponytail, framed her face perfectly. How her flawless white teeth made her smile dazzling. How she wore the tie so effortlessly. How her jacket draped over her shoulders, her sunglasses, and her red fingerless gloves made her look undeniably cool.

In short, he didn’t just find her beautiful.

He found her awesome.

He thought that, in all this misfortune, he was at least a little lucky. Since arriving in this strange place, no woman, no person except his mother, of course, had ever given him this much attention.

"So, where did you-" Justice stopped herself short. "No, I’ll do that when the others are here. Speaking of, do you know when they'll be coming?" she asked, her face just a few inches from his.

Struggling through his daze, he stammered out: "Uh, I don’t really know Miss… Malina, I think? told me to wait here until she came back, so I, uh… I waited."

"Oh, I see." She raised a brow. "Sorry that I... can’t be of more help." "Oh, don’t worry. I can wait a bit." She leaned against a wall, left foot propped casually against it.

Even her pose was awesome.

Not knowing what to say or what else to do, Izuku went back to the task he had given himself: sorting through the mountain of documents. The next several dozen minutes passed in silence, broken only by the sound of his steps during his back-and-forth trips under Justice’s amused 'gaze'.

At one point, she asked: "Hey, why are you doing that?" Peeking out from behind a stack of binders, he looked confused. "Why am I doing what?" "Well, all of this." She stretched her arms wide. "That’s not your job. That’s Pandemonica’s." He paused a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. “I… could?”

...

"Snrk Ha."

...

"Haha."

...

"Pfwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!"

Justice burst into a huge fit of laughter. Izuku, meanwhile, was a little perplexed, watching her laugh. "Ha." Watching her empty her lungs with every breath. "Haha." And it wasn’t mocking, no. "Hahaha." It was genuine, kind, and utterly contagious. "Hahahahahahahahahaha!"

"Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!/Hahahahahahahaha!"

They laughed together. Oh, how they laughed—their tears streaming down their faces, their backs arching, and Izuku thought he might die from it.

Why were they laughing? He had no idea, but wow... it felt good.

The minutes passed and the laughter slowly faded. The two sat against the wall, Justice’s arm resting behind her back, like two longtime friends after a long night of drinking.

“Haha, you’ve got a good heart! Hahaha, I’d even say that’s pure awesome. Haha!” She said, wiping the remnants of tears from her radiant face.

“Haha… you’re awesome too. Ha.” His response drew a few more chuckles from her. “Hahaha, of course, I’m Justice the Awesome Demon.” She raised her fist to the sky with overflowing energy, which in turn made Izuku laugh again.

But unlike her, his laughter faded quickly. Concerned for her new… friend? She hadn’t had friends in a long time; she was used to enemies. So was he a friend?

…

‘Well, I’ll figure that out later.’ Worried about Izuku, Justice asked: “Are you okay?”

He waved his hand, as if to say, “I’m fine. I’m fine.” That’s even what he said, but Justice didn’t need her eyes to see that it wasn’t true.

“You know we’ll be spending a lot of time together… so if you ever want to talk, I’m here!” she said, tapping her fist against her chest.

A faint smile crept onto Izuku’s lips. “Yes, thank you, but it’s… hard to tell myself that… that I’m here… forever.” He looked at the ceiling, focusing on the flickering lights to have something to fixate on. “It’s crazy, but I still can’t really grasp it. I’ve already been told this several times, but it’s like a part of me just… didn’t hear it.” He turned to Justice, a swirling storm of emotions in his eyes, ranging from sadness to despair.

“Miss Justice, are we really in Hell?”

In response, Justice could only offer a nod, the weight of his sadness touching her as well.

“So it’s really true?” SOB He began to cry. Snif… I’m really stuck here? I’ll never see my mom again? Huhhh… I’ll never see my students? Snrk… never see anyone? He broke down completely. Snif… What did I do… to deserve this? Huhhh… I’ve always done everything right! Snrk… I’ve always done my best! Haaah… Why does it always have to be me?! Snrk… Why?! Snif… Why?!

Slowly, gently, Justice wrapped him in her arms, pressing his head to her chest, stroking his back, and resting her own head above his. He mustn’t see the tears that threatened to escape her own eyes.

She hummed a lullaby, one she hadn’t sung in a very long time.

A new ding echoed through the office, this one coming from one of Pandemonica’s elevators.

Having heard it arrive, Justice stood right in front of it. She was thus in the perfect spot to see the two sisters swaying to the cheesy elevator music.

When she noticed the former High Prosecutor, Malina's face turned bright red as she let out a startled, "Eeep!!!"

"Oh. Didn’t know you still had the moves." Justice teased. Malina, now furious, grabbed her by the collar. "I swear, if I hear a single rumor or even a hint of this, I’ll kill you!" "Ooooh, scary. Little Malinka’s gonna hurt us," Zdrada mocked with a smirk. "And you! I swear I’m gonna-!" Malina's shout was interrupted by Justice's hand, firmly clapped over her mouth. "Don’t yell. They’re sleeping." "Who?" Asked the older sister.

Pointing toward the break room, Justice replied, "See for yourself. But I'm warning you, they’re super cute."

"I don’t really see what’s so special about that," Zdrada muttered, heading for the door. "Rare, sure, but Mistress takes naps sometimes." She turned the handle. "So I don’t see wha—" and that’s when she saw him. "—t the f—"

It was now her turn to be silenced by Justice.

She turned over in her sheets.

Her silk sheets.

In her cozy bed.

The sun’s rays brushed gently against her face.

But she would not answer their call.

Because this morning was meant for sleeping in.

The smell of excellent coffee teased her nose.

But she wouldn’t answer that call either.

Because today was a holiday.

She felt a hand, very soft, stroking her hair.

But she-wait!

Whose hand was that!?

“Seriously, you should try it, they’re super soft!” “Stop it, please, this is really embarrassing!” “Oh, come on, just let me enjoy this.” “Zdrada, let him go.” “Oooh, did little Malinka find herself a boyfriend~?” “Oh, you—!”

That was the scene Pandemonica woke up to.

Zdrada laughing her lungs out as she ruffled both her hair and that of a blushing Izuku, while Malina, equally red, tried to smack her, only to get a big puff of smoke blown right into her face by her older sister.

A scene almost ordinary, at least, when you knew Zdrada. The only unusual element was the presence of Midoriya: a human, an unmarked one.

“Get your hand off.” Her voice was murderous, her horns lengthening with each word, her eyes sharpening in tandem. She never needed verbal threats. Fear was already flooding the hearts of two of the people present in the break room.

Zdrada, not being one of them, was more than happy to volunteer herself.

Normally, Pandemonica would raise her hand, but in this case, that wasn’t really the fitting punishment. “What did I tell you, Zdrada?” she said, closing the distance until her mouth was just inches from Zdrada’s ear. She whispered: “Bad girls don’t get rewarded.” To which Zdrada, with a playful smirk, replied: “But it’s been so long since the last reward. This good girl figured she’d rather take the punishment if it’s now.”

Justice stepped between the two. “Alright, we get it. You can pick that up later. Right now, there’s someone more important here.”

All eyes turned to Izuku Midoriya.

“But before we get into that, I’ve got a very important question for you.” “No.” “Zdrada…” “No, but I swear it’s important.” “Zdrada…/Zdrada…!” “Oh, quit being so boring, Malinka. Did your nerd games make you such a drag?" “ZDRADA!”

Not caring anymore about her sister's exclamations, Zdrada sidled right up to Izuku and asked: “How about a threesome?”

Instantly, Malina’s face exploded into a massive blush; she knew full well who the third would be. As for Izuku, the first party concerned… well. First, an even bigger blush overtook his face. Second, he hid it behind his hands. Third, he fainted.

Malina and Pandemonica, in perfect unison, screamed: “ZDRADA!!!”

Understand her.

She had to test it.

Chapter Text

In the depths of Hell stood a magnificent and quirky castle.

Six were his entrances, and none of them looked alike. The first was a simple black canvas that no wind could stir. The second resembled the gates of old fortresses, securely fastened with rusty chains that, nevertheless, would never let go. The third was made of paper, yet no flame could burn it, no strike could tear it, and no sword could cut it. The fourth was a sumptuous black glass door, seeming to absorb the surrounding light rather than letting it through. The fifth wasn’t really a door at all; it was a cut in the stone, so smooth that no one could grip it enough to remove it from its base. And finally, the last one was always open, its shape changing for each visitor, but no mortal who had crossed it ever returned to pass its threshold a second time.

Thirty-six towers rose from the castle. Some stood vertically, others lay horizontally, and still others seemed to hesitate between the two. Their tops were triangular, rectangular, square, and sometimes even rounded.

On each of them perched sumptuous gargoyles, sculpted in the likeness of demonic beasts, fallen angels, and other sinners. Wherever one stood, their stone eyes stared straight back.

There were two hundred sixteen windows. They came in three kinds. The blue ones made even the happiest rooms feel melancholic, the red ones rendered every lit space grotesque, and the black ones were so opaque that nothing could be seen through them, forcing the imagination to fill in the rest.

Some of the walls were made of bricks, either the reddest crimson or the darkest black, and they seemed to shift places whenever one turned their head. Others appeared to be concrete, within which horrified faces struggled to escape.

Inside, its numerous hallways stretched on endlessly, each carpeted in red, adorned with paintings and sculptures by master artists, and lit by chandeliers with black, blue, and red flames. There were doors everywhere : on the walls, the ceilings, even on the floors. Each led to unknown places. Passing through one could take you to the other side of the castle, to the very same spot as the door at the opposite end, or simply to the next corridor.

Its many rooms were furnished with the most luxurious supplies the human mind could conceive, yet beneath each of them, one could hear faint whispers.

Its wine cellar was vast, where the finest vineyards and vintners mingled with the most forgotten beverages in history. Beware anyone daring to sip even a drop, for the mistress of the house watched with a careful eye.

No one had come here in a long time.

Ding.

But now, in the mix of reds and blacks, there was a hint of green.

In Pandemonica's office, all the demons were going about their business.

Justice was playing with a coin.

Pandemonica was working.

Zdrada smoked a cigarette and said, "He’s gonna get butchered." The tone she used wasn’t one of worry; anyone could tell you that. No, it was more like she was stating a fact, an absolute truth.

"No way," Malina replied, still glued to her screen playing Advance Wars on her equally Advanced GameBoy. She didn’t look away for a single moment.

"She’s just going to kill him. ‘Butchered’ is too much."

"It says 'third door on the right,' but which one?" In front of him were two perpendicular doors, one on the wall, like a normal door, and the other on the floor, like a not-so-normal door.

Since Justice hadn’t specified which one, he thought, “It must be this one… if it were the other, she would’ve said so.” But when he opened the door on the wall, he got an unpleasant surprise. "RAAAAAAAH!!!" Beyond the threshold stretched a supernatural darkness; the light from the corridor seemed to deliberately refuse entry.

Whatever was inside had yelled at him, and on top of that, it smelled terrible.

"SORRY, WRONG DOOR!" He slammed the door shut as fast as he could, having no desire to get better acquainted with the creature in the shadows.

More terrified than he had ever been, he took a minute or two, trying to calm his racing heart. It was pounding so hard he could almost see the beat through his shirt.

"I-I guess… it’s this one then?" he said in a shaky voice.

Opening the second door, he saw another corridor. Strangely, the ceiling of this corridor was right in front of him. He concluded, as strange as it may seem, that the door he had just opened was on the floor of this new corridor. Carefully, gripping the carpet with one hand, he stepped through it. "Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t f—oh."

To his surprise, after he had passed more than half of his body through the door, gravity changed.

As such, he was able to continue his journey through this tricky castle.

“Pipe down a little. Some of us are working.” Despite her nap, Pandemonica was just as tired as before, and therefore just as grumpy when it came to interacting with the other demons.

Besides, she didn’t like being disturbed at work.

Zdrada, not caring as usual, decided to make a rather cynical bet. “So, what do we bet he’ll die from? I say devoured by one of the monsters.”

When nobody answered, she decided to annoy her sister a little more closely. “So, what do you say, sis?” She didn’t fail to blow a cloud of smoke in her face.

Fortunately, it was a turn-based game.

Doing a quick calculation, Malina decided she had more to gain by joining the bet. “You’re a pain in the ass. And ‘monster’ isn’t a real choice, it’s too broad, it doesn’t count.”

Pretending to think, the bet itself not really mattering to her, Zdrada replied, “Mmm, Mermaid?”

"H-h-h-hello, l-l-ladies!" He was on the brink of explosion. Steam was coming out of his ears and his eyes were threatening to pop right out of their sockets. He could also smell the scent of blood coming from his own nose.

In front of him stood a dozen women with fish tails and fins for ears. Their skin ranged from ebony to shades that had never seen the sun. They all wore necklaces that drew your gaze exactly where it shouldn’t go. Their long, colorful, wavy hair covered thee most intimate parts of their bodies.

Naked, of course, they were mermaids, after all.

Like hungry sharks, they swam slowly toward him, and in unison whispered, "Sir, come swim with us, we’re going to have so much fun."

I feel obligated to inform you that 'fun' for mermaids is somewhat different from yours. Let’s just say that when they bite and suck the flesh from your bones, they’re a lot happier than you will be.

Better have the right reflexes, like: "SorryIhaveanappointmentbutitwouldbeapleasurebutpleasegetdressedfirst!!!" Then slam the door quickly and run just as fast.

Don’t forget to refer to the not-so-clear directions Justice gave you.

Ha. Not-so-clear. Ha

...

I don’t know what’s going on, but… I should stop.

If you didn’t get the joke, it’s because she’s blind.

...

I know. Explaining the joke makes it unfunny.

Not that it was hilarious to begin with.

Still juggling between teasing her sister and entertaining herself, Malina contradicted Zdrada’s guess. “Nah, he’s way too much of a dork for that. He’ll just say hello, goodbye, and that’s it.”

Zdrada was almost starting to like the human. It had been a while since she’d had this many interactions with her sister. I say almost because, for Zdrada, getting attached to someone who’s going to die was the least fun thing imaginable.

Unless it was Malina doing it, then it was just more fuel for mockery.

“Fine then, what’s your bet? Cyclops, succubus, weeping angel?”

Malina took a moment to think.

What, in Hell, could kill Izuku Midoriya?

Everything. Easy answer.

But what would kill him, that was harder to say.

So she finally suggested, “Hellhound. It's a safe bet.”

'Please don’t wake up, please don’t wake up...' He only had a few steps left before crossing the massive hall, one that housed an equally massive dog, from whose back, claws, and… well, pretty much everywhere, flames were pouring out.

According to Justice’s instructions, he was about halfway through. Just one more door to open and Squeek GROOOWL

Crossing the threshold as fast as possible to avoid being eaten alive.

"GOOD DOG GOOD DOG!!!"

For the record, it was more of the 'not good' kind.

“No, they’re too lazy for that.” Zdrada had just handed herself a free punchline. “Like you.” Malina’s eyelid twitched. This time, it wouldn’t go like that. “I’d rather be that than be a lousy lay,” She raised a middle finger before adding, “Bitch.”

But Zdrada bounced right back. “That’s because you don’t wanna do threesomes anymore. It’s so much better when you're taking it in the—Uggh” Malina interrupted her sister in a very healthy way.

I’m kidding, she was strangling her.

“SHUT UP!!!” She’d take that secret to her grave.

It’s just an expression; demons don’t get graves.

In a strangled yet sultry voice, Zdrada said, “Oh yeah, harder, baby~.” “Alright, that’s enough.” Justice was the one who separated them.

“Zdrada, stop bothering your sister.” The one concerned huffed, in displeasure. The former High Prosecutor was one of the only two people able to make the Bitch Demon obey, the other being Pandemonica, and mostly during their pleasure sessions.

And with a big grin, she also said to the Sour Demon, “And Malina, all of Hell knows you love taking it in the—” She dodged the hit, laughing heartily as she did.

Zdrada threw hers in without missing a beat.

A smirk slipped from Pandemonica’s lips.

Even Malina felt a spark of joy. Hard not to, when you’re around the Awesome Demon.

Meanwhile, for Izuku Midoriya.

“SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!”

He was running faster than he ever had before and every time his lungs managed to catch some air, he used it to scream for help.

VROOOOOOOM

Could it have anything to do with the massive chainsaw wielded by an equally massive masked man chasing after him while yelling “KILL!!!”?

Probably. But I’m not entirely sure.

“Oh no.” At the end of his sprint, he found himself in a dead end. Behind him, a door he knew was dangerous and in front of him, a man he knew was as dangerous.

But maybe a little less.

As the slasher charged at him, chainsaw raised high and ready to swing, Izuku opened the door, the same one he’d escaped through barely ten minutes earlier, and pressed himself flat against the wall perpendicular to it.

CRASH NOMF

The enormous hellhound from earlier, drawn by the roaring of the chainsaw, lunged straight forward, shattering the wall and swallowing, in a single jaw snap, the man who was, in a way, his roommate.

“G–Good boy,” Izuku couldn’t help but mutter.

Another growl quickly convinced him not to repeat it.

“And what about you, Pandemonica?” asked Justice. “You think he’s gonna die?”

Ding–chhhk. Without taking her eyes off her typewriter, the Secretary of Hell replied, “Of course. If the castle doesn’t kill him, the Madam will.”

“Okay, so now I turn right.”

“Then left.”

“Then left again.”

“And then left again.”

“And again, to the lef-” Bonk “Ow!” Focused only on Justice’s directions instead of what was in front of him, Izuku didn’t notice that right around the corner stood a hellish being.

It was a skeleton. Tall, over two meters, muscular, somehow, as if even its bones were flexing. Beneath them was a layer of black flesh, giving the whole figure the look of being encased in armor. The small horns on its skull certainly helped the impression.

“AH!” Izuku sprinted away as fast as his legs could carry him, diving behind a piece of furniture. To his surprise, though, he didn’t hear any footsteps following him—only his own breathing and the pounding of his heart.

No one was chasing him.

…Unless it was right behind him. Some humans could teleport, so…

Slowly and as quietly as possible, he turned his head and...

Nothing.

Nobody was here.

Taking deep breaths, he thought, 'It’s fine. Everything’s fine. It’s gonna be okay.'

Step by step, moving as silently as he could, he approached the spot where he’d seen it. Peeking around the corner, he saw the skeleton hadn’t moved, not even by an inch.

'Could it be a statue?' THUD THUD "AH!" Just like that, without any warning, the skeleton had taken two steps forward, the sudden movement nearly making Izuku jump out of his skin.

After a few seconds of confirming it wasn’t moving anymore, he finally dared to approach. Justice’s directions left him no real choice anyway.

That’s how he made an interesting discovery.

The skeleton wasn’t alone. Far from it. There were dozens and dozens of them, all lined up neatly. Most carried stacks of papers; others, trays of the most fancy food and expensive-looking bottles of wine he ever saw.

Izuku felt a strange echo in his stomach. Like phantom pain, but for hunger.

He hadn’t eaten since he’d arrived here.

'I'll have to ask Justice what they eat down here.' The dishes these skeletons were carrying looked way too refined to be everyday meals.

Following the line with his eyes, he saw it ended at two enormous doors, above which black letters spelled out: “Office of Lucifer, CEO of Hell.”

'I hope they're not waiting for me.'

...

...

...

What? You didn’t actually think he’d cut in line, did you? He’s way too… him for that.

...

...

...

But even for him, the wait was getting long.

Especially when the line didn’t move.

"Do you know if we have to wait for long?" he asked the skeleton in front of him, the same one that had scared him half to death earlier. He was a bit disappointed not to get a reply. Only a bit, though. He’d kinda expected that.

...

...

...

‘I hope Mom’s okay.’ With nothing to distract his mind, Izuku finally started thinking about those who were still… alive. It still felt unreal, even though he’d had a thousand proofs that yes, he really was in Hell.

‘Did they find my body? She must be crying.’ A chuckle escaped him, along with tears. ‘And to think she didn’t want me to become a hero because she was afraid I would die young.’

He pulled his phone from his bag and scrolled through his gallery, rubbing his eyes so he could see the pictures through the flood of tears. When he was alive, he’d grown passionate about photography. He’d taken so many pictures, with his phone or with a camera. But there they all were, in that tiny device, the last eight years of his life.

His entrance to Futsu Kōkō High School, his graduation ceremony, his acceptance into Kyoshi University, his History degree, his teaching certificate, the class photo from his time as a trainee teacher, and then the one from when he became a full-time teacher.

And there were thousands more, small moments or important ones, fragments of his life.

The only ones missing were pictures with friends.

‘I should’ve done more. Tried harder.’ He’d never really managed to make friends. At most, acquaintances, saying hello, goodbye, we’ve got a meeting in an hour, did you get the lecture?

Then his finger stopped. It was a photo his mother had sent him. A picture of a TV screen displaying a list, titled 'Hero Rankings'. And at the fifth spot was a name he knew well.

Katsuki Bakugo.

The last time they’d seen each other was in middle school.

To be more precise, it was the last time Katsuki had seen Izuku.

Because for the teacher, well, it had been hard not to see his childhood friend.

The Sports Festival, the kidnapping, the war, then every appearance he’d made on TV, whether as a sidekick or on his own.

Seeing him again, he thought, “Bravo. Just four more spots and you’ll be the greatest hero. I knew you could do it.”

He let out a small smile. “Heh. If you were in my place, you’d probably say something like, ‘Outta my way, extras!’” THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD

To his great, and pleasant, surprise, all the skeletons in line stepped aside, one to the left, one to the right, leaving him a clear path forward.

“Uh… thanks?” he said, unsure what had caused the event.

Just to be safe, he thanked each skeleton individually.

Ding 

It was the elevator door. The crimson one,  the one connected to the other circles of Hell, the same Izuku had taken to reach Lucifer’s castle.

“Where you going, Justice?” asked Zdrada. The demon in question stepped into the elevator, her finger hovering over the last button. “I’m gonna prove you all wrong.”

He was now standing in front of the Hell Boss’s office.

Who hadn’t noticed him at all.

She was buried in a stack of administrative papers, occasionally taking a sip from a bottle of wine that looked absurdly expensive.

So he waited.

He looked around the room. He had plenty of time for that.

It was lavish. Well… if you liked red.

The floor was cut from marble, except for a path leading from the door to Lucifer’s desk, which was paved with cracked stones.

The left and right walls were entirely made of red glass, giving or enhancing the colors of the room.

Along the stone path stood eight braziers, their flames seemingly shifting colors at random, the same shades as the chandeliers throughout the castle.

The furniture was abundant: tables, bookshelves, mirrors, and so on. All decorated in the same style: covered with as many spikes as possible.

The desk was no exception.

She was seated on a throne, gigantic, over four meters tall. In width, two, maybe even three Lucifers, could sit next to each other.

That said… it looked really comfortable.

As for the desk, it was even more enormous, almost absurdly so. Seated as she was, she couldn’t possibly reach most of its surface. Her throne was too close for her to touch the left or right thirds of the table, and her size probably didn’t allow her to reach the far end where Izuku was standing.

“Give.”

The Hell CEO’s order interrupted Izuku’s observation.

She still hadn’t looked up, unaware of the nature of her… guest? Let’s say that.

She probably assumed it was a skeleton, delivering yet another batch of documents.

Izuku was a little confused.

So he obeyed.

Lying flat on the table, the only way to reach the Queen of Hell, he followed the order.

He gave his hand.

Feeling a soft, warm, empty palm, Lucifer realized something was off and lifted her head with a “Huh?”

And when she saw him, out came another: “Huh?”