Chapter 50: The Edge of the World

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Fire.

Hell.

The Underworld.

Death.

Conclusion.

Adversaries.

Kill!

Chaos.

Kill!

Revenge.

Truth.

Clueless.

Shackled.

Confused.

Gods.

Kill!

Salvation.

Lost.

Forgotten.

Redemption.

Deception.

Evident.

Friends.

Kill!

Reincarnation.

Power.

Believe.

Faith.

Strange.

Enemies.

Kill!

Wrath...

Words were the occurrences that flashed through the mind of an entity whose appearance made it hard to make out what it was.

Was it an alien?

But it burned endlessly.

Was it a torch?

Yet, it moved.

In fact, the creature walked with its two legs without a set destination.

Was it a human?

It wasn't sure.

The human-shaped flame kept going. All that coursed through its mind were echoes of its last feelings.

That's right, the creature could no longer be called 'sentient'.

Even so, it felt like it had a purpose to keep moving through the pits of Hell.

The temperature was unspeakably hot.

There was no way to measure it, but it was certain that the heat could be compared to that of the sun itself.

The place where the creature found himself was empty and dense.

There was no sun anchored in the skies that made for a beacon of light, only flames that were caught on the unfathomable amount of shriven souls that wandered for eternity.

This was Hell.

The creature was the only thing in its surroundings that maintained a tangible form.

Its skin kept regenerating by the second, only to evaporate right away.

Its blood had long since dried up.

Time was a laughable concept in the realm of the lost and the dead.

There was a sense of space, but it was deemed irrelevant as the planes of Hell stretched infinitely upon its horizons.

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