"Sorry, we're just people who crashed here by accident, looking for a way out. We didn't know anyone lived here."
Anyone surviving in a place like this had to be extraordinary, so Roy kept his tone polite and respectful.
"Not bad, a polite young man. Co on in."
Roy cautiously stepped through the hollow of a massive skull, entering its interior. Inside, he saw an old man with a beard dragging on the ground, carving sothing into the skull's inner wall.
A human?
Roy had expected to encounter so ancient demon, not an ordinary-looking old man.
The man's aura felt no different from that of a regular elderly person.
"Daddy, his beard is so long! Can you grow one that long too?" Eluretha asked curiously, pointing at the old man.
Roy, who hadn't shaved in half a month, had indeed grown a bit of a beard. Eluretha loved resting on his shoulder and playing with it.
"Shh, don't point at people!"
The old man didn't seem to mind Eluretha's behavior. He sniffed the air.
"Hmm, you lot sll strange. I've never co across this combination before. A succubus with no sin, a succubus with a soul full of sin, and… a Nephilim? Fascinating. It's been ages since I sensed one of my kind!"
He turned, his empty eye sockets locking onto Roy. Only then did the trio realize he had no eyes.
Roy caught a key detail in his words.
"Sir, you're a Nephilim too?"
"Indeed, I am. Strange, though—I thought I was the last Nephilim. How is it that another of my kind exists? Also, could you shift into your Nephilim form? This demon form of yours reeks!"
Despite lacking eyes, the old man's perception was razor-sharp. Not only did he identify Roy's Nephilim nature, but he also knew Roy was currently in demon form.
That kind of ability didn't belong to just any old man, did it?
Roy carefully set Eluretha and Alma down. Only then did he notice Alma was still asleep, which explained her silence.
Then, Roy transford into his Nephilim form—gray hair, massive gray wings, and intricate patterns on his body.
These features had erged as his Nephilim powers grew, awakening new abilities.
The old man nodded, his hollow sockets fixed on Roy.
"That's more like it! What's the state of the human world these days?"
Roy hesitated, unsure how to answer. Their sense of ti likely differed, but he gave it a shot.
"By the Gregorian calendar, it's the year 2000 out there."
The old man frowned, his heavily wrinkled skin making Roy worry it might peel off.
"Gregorian calendar? Just tell how many years it's been since the Great Flood."
"About 4,200 years."
Roy happened to know this. While the exact timing of Noah's Ark wasn't recorded, the Great Flood in Eastern and Western histories aligned. Roy knew how long ago Yu the Great tad the floods in China.
"So, it's been five thousand years since that event?"
The old man let out a deep sigh and turned back to carving sothing into the skull's wall.
Roy studied the carvings, which looked like so kind of unique script.
"Sir, you said you're the last Nephilim. Why are you here?"
The old man didn't pause his work.
"A long, long ti ago, I was banished to Hell by God. I ended up here and settled down."
Roy's brow furrowed. The old man's casual tone belied the weight of his words. Being banished by God himself was no small feat!
In the Bible, only a handful had seen God—human ancestors like Adam, Lilith, and Eve, or righteous figures like Abraham and Noah.
Ordinary people rarely even saw God's ssengers, like the archangel Gabriel, who announced John the Baptist's birth (Jesus's cousin, who baptized him) or told Mary she'd bear Jesus.
Neither of those righteous n saw God in their lifetis.
This Nephilim's identity was clearly extraordinary.
But from his tone, he seed reluctant to discuss his past, not even ntioning his na.
Roy decided not to press the issue, lest he irritate the old man and lose answers to more pressing questions.
"Sir, is there a way to leave this place?"
This was the most urgent matter. The past was less important than what lay ahead.
The old man paused his carving, turning with a strange smile.
"You want to leave? Do you even know where you are?"
Roy genuinely didn't.
"Please, enlighten !"
The old man moved to a blank section of the skull's wall and began drawing, using his fingernails to etch the bone.
"Hell has nine layers. Beyond the outermost Limbo, which connects to other worlds, there are eight more."
He sketched a giant funnel shape, filling the first layer with vivid depictions of spirits.
(Sandro Botticelli's map of Hell from The Divine Cody. Check Bihu for the uncompressed version—compression hides a lot of details.)
"Below Limbo lies true Hell. The second layer is the Kingdom of Stars, ruled by Lucifer, the King of Pride. He builds cities to test perfect systems and blocks all demons from leaving Hell."
He drew a figure with twelve wings, capturing Lucifer's unique aura in just a few strokes.
"The third layer, Phantasmagoria, is a pink void with sparse landmasses floating on giant bubbles. It's said to connect to the dream world and is ruled by Asmodeus, the King of Lust."
Roy's heart stirred. He must've crashed from Phantasmagoria to end up here.
"Sir, if you fall from Phantasmagoria, do you end up here?"
The old man, unbothered by the interruption, drew a seductive female form.
"Yes. Phantasmagoria is one of the few places with a direct path to Hell's deepest layer. More on that later."
Roy nodded, letting him continue.
"The fourth layer, the Golden Labyrinth, is a world of gold and gems. Greedy souls gather there, trading everything for more wealth, but only Mammon, the King of Greed, wins in the end."
He drew a double-headed eagle.
"The fifth layer, the Rotting Swamp, is Hell's grandest dining table. You either eat or get eaten. Though Beelzebub, the King of Gluttony, is the most refined ruler, even he can't change Hell's rules."
A massive, fat-headed fly took shape.
The old man seed to think decently of Beelzebub. Did they know each other in ancient tis?
"The sixth layer, the Blood Battlefield, is where Samael, the King of Wrath, and his subjects wage endless wars to please him. Bunch of fools!"
He drew a man with short wings, his tone carrying a hint of disdain, perhaps personal.
"The seventh layer, the City of Eternal Night, is a world of perpetual darkness with no truth, only deception and void. My advice? Trust no one there, not even its ruler, Belial, the King of Sloth."
He sketched a woman's back.
Roy had sothing to say here. He found Belial fairly trustworthy, if secretive, especially when he had her pinned in bed.
"The eighth layer, the Ancient Sea, preserves Hell's original form. Only here can you see what Hell looked like in ancient tis, though its ruler, Leviathan, the King of Envy, is no longer her forr self."
He stopped after drawing an ouroboros.
"Finally, the ninth and deepest layer: the Abyss of Darkness. It's Hell's end—pure void, no color, no life, no ti. Every layer has a direct entrance to the Abyss, but Phantasmagoria's is the most direct. That's why unlucky souls often fall from there and die.
You three surviving is already remarkably lucky."
Roy studied the old man thoughtfully. He'd explained Hell clearly but hadn't answered the key question.
"Sir, you still haven't said how to leave!"
"Was I not clear? No one leaves the Abyss of Darkness unless its master appears and changes the rules."
"Master? What do you an?"
"Haven't you noticed? Every layer of Hell has a ruler who shapes it. The Abyss is masterless. It was ant to be Satan's domain, but his throne remains empty, so it's beco what it is."
So, becoming Satan would let you leave?
Roy frowned, quickly spotting the flaw.
If he beca Satan, he'd be bound to Hell forever, like the other demon kings. At best, he could send an avatar to Earth to slack off, like Belial.
The only way out was for soone else to beco Satan—and then agree to let Roy leave the Abyss.
That seed even more far-fetched.
Becoming Satan required rare qualifications. Several of the seven demon kings, like Leviathan, coveted the title.
The King of Envy had sched for it, from tempting Eve in Eden to recent alliances with Samael and Mammon, causing chaos in the human world.
If Leviathan could've beco Satan, she would've done it already.
Still, Roy wanted to try.
"Sir, I was sent to Hell by accident. I have to get back to the human world!"
The old man shook his head, resuming his incomprehensible carvings.
"So things don't bend to personal will, like the fall of the Nephilim."
"But a new Nephilim, born out of nowhere, surprised even you, didn't it? Miracles happen in this world!"
His words made the old man pause.
Indeed, Roy's existence was a shock, even a delight, to him.
But millennia in the Abyss had rigidified his thinking, and without Roy's prompting, he might not have considered it.
"A miracle, huh? That's interesting."
At that mont, Alma woke up.
"Huh? Why am I on the ground?"
She stood, brushing dust off her large belly.
Seeing her, Roy pointed to her stomach.
"Alma's child was conceived as a spirit. Have you ever seen anything like that?"
The old man's gaze fell on Alma's belly, his face lighting up with awe.
"By the heavens! Such a sinful soul!"
"Sinful? What do you an?"
Alma looked at Roy innocently, her seductive Adra face clashing with the expression, creating a striking contrast.
Adra, Eluretha's sister, was a piece of work. One succubus had a purified soul, the other was possessed by a naive one. Both seed a bit dim.
Roy realized the old man, despite his lack of eyes, saw far more clearly than he did.
"Maybe… you really can leave this world."
His tone was wistful. Roy pressed him.
"Sir, what do we need to do?"
"In the Abyss of Darkness lies the Tower of Babel, connecting to the eighth layer, the Ancient Sea. It's the only way out, but only soone with Satan's authority can pass through. Perhaps you could try the Tower!"
The Tower of Babel?
Legend said King Nebuchadnezzar II of New Babylon built or expanded it, aning "Gate of God," a symbol of humanity's ancient ambition to reach divinity.
The tower was said to have angered God, leading to its destruction and Babylon's fall into history's river. Yet here it was, in the Abyss.
"So how do I get there?"
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