Prologue

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What's the most sinful thing to do?


"Jeong Ho-Seok.

I, hereby, sentence you to the Seventh Circle Of Hell, the Circle of Violence, as retribution for the heinous crimes you have committed, the distress you have caused, and the lives you have stolen. You will thereby suffer in eternal torment for the rest of your existence or until the end of time, whichever comes first, with no means of escape. You shall also not have the right to reincarnate.

I thus conclude your judgment."


Is it to hurt the one you love?


Blurry outlines... distant echoes...

Silence.

As the fuzziness of his mind cleared and the outlines began to sharpen and form shapes, his eyes fell on his knees pressed against the cold stone floor. Blood and dust stained his clothes. Bruises and burns adorned his skin. Even as the world slowly began to take shape, his eyes were still heavy. His ears still rang from the sound of the faint voices in the courtroom. Even the smallest sigh of impatience was loud in his ears. Too loud.

With a gargantuan will, he raised his head to look into the pale blue eyes of his Judge. The Queen of the Court of Judgement, the ruler of Angel's realm, Queen Yama sat on her throne, her long clawed fingers holding the scroll that contained his final judgment. Her face betrayed no emotion, though her eyes spoke a million words of disgust and hatred.


Or is it to hurt the millions that you don't love?


Her eyes flicked up to the four angel guards who flanked his sides in a silent command. They bowed to her before they wrenched his arms up, heaving him to his feet. The angels began to drag him along to the place where now he must go.

Hell.

He didn't protest. He didn't dare lift a single finger as he walked, dragging his foot over the stone path silently. They led him to a massive circular opening where apparently, he had heard, the two thresholds stood. One was the Threshold to reincarnation, the other being...

The gateway to hell.

The Guardian of Thresholds stood waiting at the center of the room. His eyes slowly trailed up and as they fell on the Guardian, a flicker of recognition passed through them.


Or is it to take someone's life?


"Angels of Battle."

The Guardian's voice was commanding as his eyes passed over every single angel guard but him. "Just lead him to the threshold to your left and your job here will be done."

On the left of him, stood the said Threshold the Guardian mentioned. Over the door frame, where the words etched in inky red: Lasciate ogne Speranza, voi ch'intrate. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

He turned his head back to the angel with a humorless smile. "Of course...How ironic it is that it's you who gets to lead me to Hell, NJ." He hung his head down. "I hope it helps. Although, what I did to you was..." He couldn't complete it.

The Guardian stared straight ahead still. Yet the distinct tick in his jaw and his clenched fists revealed what his expressionless countenance failed to convey.

Once more addressing the angels, he spoke, his voice sounding forcibly restrained. "Angels, hurry! We don't have time to waste."

The guards turned to the left on his command, bringing him to face the Gateway of Shadows that stood wide open, opening its arms to embrace him into them. A final sigh left his parched lips as he stared up.

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