An alert buzzed— waking up Zero from their trance, body sprawled on the ground— solid, hard unlike the terrain they were forced in days prior, this was marble.

  They jolted up before being forced into a kneeling position— head facing down, beside them were all the other participants— the ones who were alive. From the corner of their eyes they saw, Dara quivering— dressed in a blue blouse which fluttered due to the windows that were flung open, Richard— body numb but also kneeling— his eyes directed at the ground, soulless and grey— no longer spiralling.

  The Imp growled, “Is this your doing…. Thidos?”— feeling the pressure, the immeasurable weight forced onto them as they attempted to lift their head up.

  Each push felt like an eternity— blood leaking from their mouth as they tried to cover it with a grin.

  “Give up— Imp.” The voice from above echoed— a ripple teared through the air causing the Imp to collapse to the ground again, “I’ve evolved as a God— when I fought you evenly, I was enraged— but after an attempt on my life, I have understood the reasoning of my divinity.”

  “What may that be?” Saraline screeched— her cape flickering.

  “As a God— I must be a leader, for my people. So I accept everyone here’s sins.” Thidos chuckled.

  The Imp’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean— you were God before— you must still have those human emotions, that hatred!”

  “I spiralled— like a human, it was beautiful at the time— but now I see it as disgusting.” Thidos’ body— unseen, whisked away in the dark and invisible to all due to their stance, “I raged and eradicated many of my people— for that I must atone, and for that I must forgive.”

  “You been reading those holy books of the old world?” Jeremiah snickered, “You seem really sublime— unlike you.”

  “Jeremiah Demetri— you’ve excelled this event, I once thought you of a nobody— a heckler… you have astonished me.” Thidos clapped— each vibration from his hands thudded— no ripples or shockwaves, “Your first challenge and third challenge capabilities— prove you suitable of a Saint.”

  “Wait.” Gabriel called out, “Reprisals— I forgot the whole purpose— I remember know, it’s for you to create new Saints— or Angels.”

  “And a new category I’ve decided to make— behold my ‘Seraphs.’” Thidos laughed— it wasn’t of happiness or sadness or joy— just a laugh for no reason.

  “What about Medea.” Nil grit her teeth— bubbles seeping out before popping as they reached higher than her head.

  “I’m here of course.” The God of Phantasmas voice sniggered across the room— tremors and vibrations cracked the windows, “You asking for me makes it seem like you want to join my cause?”

  “And Eliza— or should I say Melissa.” Zero spat.

  “Samiel decided to leave us— Invalia is still hers but, she picks now— not this way at least.” Thidos muttered— gloomy. “I say I get first choice— don’t I, Medea?”

  “Sure— I couldn’t care any less.” His voice bellowed.

  “Wait— what makes either of you think we’d simply hand our souls to you!” Ilya shrieked, “After what you put us through? You think we’d simply just die!”

  “What about Amarze or Miles.” Saraline chuckled, “Haven’t seen them in a while— where’d they go? Or Alabendo— or that other Angel— or me and Gabriel for a while, can’t say the same for Medea— but you Thidos, you got a bad track history with protecting those who are willing to die for you.”

  “You are right.” Thidos smiled— it was visible even when invisible, “I failed in the past— but the past dies now, as for you Ilya— the main purpose of the Reprisal was for those who reached the Angel’s Light— to join a kingdom.”

  “Now pick brother— I’m bored now.” Medea pouted.“Wait— I got a couple more questions.” Zero retaliated, “Number 1. Is Paris truly Loki— the God of Mischief? Number 2. What will happen to the replaced Saints and Angels and Number 3. How do you qualify as a Seraph?”

  “Great questions, I’ll answer.” Thidos spoke, “Yes, he is. The others will be retired— I won’t kill them, they’ll just go back to where they were before and three— by beating this hellscape you have won the chance of becoming a Seraph— only five from you will.”

  “As I go first— I will be discarding some saints and angels to retirement of course, my first pick is Jeremiah Demetri of Medea. He will become a Saint— the Third, replacing Miles Phillips who is on eternal leave. His title will be— Demon Child, the Demon Child— yes that is what you want correct?” Thidos hollered.

  Jeremiah kneeled— he was quiet, before a grin emerged on his face, “Why would I accept something like this?”

  “Because it will be fun.” The God spoke— his option cannot be reverted or changed as a banner floated onto the boy’s back— the insignia of Thidos glowed white— the cherry’s eyes woke alive and a mouth appeared— screeching. Thidos clapped his hands and— Jeremiah was gone.

  “Great pick.” Medea jovially chuckled, “Took one of mine right— I’ll take one of yours. Gabriel Khan— you will become apart of the Slavi!” The God smiled, “You’ll remain the Archangel of course— it suits you. You’ll be the fourth— I’m trying to keep the group contained you know, it’s why I only have Me— then Slavis then my little pucks… below all of that of course are the priests— just normal soldiers. Don’t worry— I don’t see many of you becoming that.” His eyes fixated on an individual before looking at Gabriel who had a banner with Medea’s insignia float onto him— a skull wrapped in a furious flame— laughing, “You object?”

  The Archangel remained silent.

  “You remembered from your last Reprisal didn’t you— surprised you and Saraline didn’t do a whole ton, you had prior knowledge. You may asking why I picked you then— It’s your domain, it’ll help a ton soon.” Medea giggled playfully— like a child, before clapping his hands— causing Gabriel to disappear.

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  Beside Gabriel was Dara who shrieked, “Where’d he go! Where’d Jeremiah go?”

  “They went to their dormitories in the new place— speaking of I gotta destroy your Reprisal Ones!” Medea smiled before tilting their head at Thidos.

  Zero lifted their head— the force dissipating, seeing the two Gods— covered by shadows but their lights illuminating— laughing.

  “My next pick— Gloxer Levy. You had a great performance during the second Challenge and third— now if under my tutelage— I make you more composed, you will be the strongest Angel— for now, you rest at Number Five as the Wrathful— replacing the deceased Alabendo.”

  The boy simply grit his teeth— he didn’t hesitate— just held silent as Thidos sent him away. A banner falling onto the ground where he once was— Thidos’ insignia plastered over it.

  “Listen here.” Saraline shouted, “What was that with James? Why was he a skin walker.”

  “James? James Patel— my little skinwalker? He was supposed to track the games— of course, died due to the Imp— I don’t have to pick everyone— neither does he, the rest of you can just return home— I know some of you would want that.” His eyes— judgemental and placed on someone— after displacing from Saraline. “I choose—”

  “Hey. You had your go— it’s me.” A voice screamed— Medea’s aura intensified as the room began to partially erupt into flames, before he composed himself. “I choose the Imp!”

  The room went silent.

  “The Imp? Why it?” Thidos chuckled.

  “A killer for multiple decades— survived even the Reprisal, someone like that— that bloodlust, that ooze— it’s what I want, what I desire— so I want it.” Medea grinned, “That thing is gonna be my fifth Slavi— the last. I can’t wait to see it in action!” He clapped— sending Zero away before they could even speak. Medea’s banner floating from above— landing where the Imp was.

  “There are only four remaining slots left—” Thidos grumbled, “I already know who I’m choosing.”

  “Hopefully not me.” Saraline spat.

  “Your wishes are accepted.” The God glared at an individual, “Felix Nightingale— from your superb completion of the first challenge— and your analytical side in the third, you will be my Iron— my second Saint of Floria— Atlas!”

  “Holy shit.” Felix’s suit chimed— his faceplate removed revealing a large devilish smile on his face, “Nightingale Corporation will also improve funding towards Floria— reinstating this world into a bigger and extravagant one. No more rural areas— straight utopia.” He broke the kneel— flying into the aura, laughing as he reached his hand to the sky— grabbing Thidos’ banner and wrapping it around his neck— creating a cape.

  “You are perfection.” Thidos clapped his hands— as the man disappeared.

  “Lucky— Felix Nightingale truly is a superb individual.” Medea frowned, “I’ll pick a superb individual aswell, Famine of no names— I pick you my horseman of apocalypse— as my advisor— not a puck but a royal advisor is needed. Richard Lopez was right on one thing— the bastard kneels there unashamed but he was right— you are smart, I need it— and with your connections the underworld, we will boom— boom— boom.” Medea’s smile glowed— so bright even Famine could see whilst staring at the ground in his forced position.

  “I accept— I’ll be a horseman again.” Famine puffed on his cigarette— his ghoulish hands resisting the force to flick the lighter open. Medea’s banner floated onto him— as the flame from his lighter burned through the artistic flames.

  “Great.” The God clapped twice— Famine vanished.

  “Two more slots— and how many are here, eight— sad that although your troubles— some of you won’t be selected.” Thidos declared, “I choose you Ilya Phillips! Daughter of Emilia Phillips the Singer! Child of Miles Phillips the Golden!”

  Silence.

  “Not only do I choose you due to being the offspring of Miles— seen in both of your speeds, I choose you due to your strength— to still live on although a friend has passed, fast and nimble— you’ll do well as my first Seraph! You will be beyond golden— you will live up to both of your parents and be the Platinum!”

  He clapped his hands— ignoring any potential protests, a silver variant of Thidos’ banner emerging from the ground.

  Silence stood.

  Mog, Nil, Dara, Saraline, Richard and Lichness were the only ones remaining— still kneeling, still sweating, still panting, still breathing.

  “What a selection.” Medea smiled at Thidos, “Mog—”

  The doors to the Cathedral barged open as a silhouette stood there at the door— breathing fanatically.“Wait! I’m sorry!” The voice gasped— innocent and gleefull.

  The others couldn’t see the face due to their stance but they saw shoes… gothic ankle boots.

  It thud onto the floor with each footstep as the voice became clearer.

  “Lord Thidos and Lord Medea— before you make your last choice— I have something to present.” Paris acted as he held up his left hand to reveal a syringe— purple blood fluttering through it.

  He stabbed the syringe into Mog’s neck.

  He collapsed onto the ground, as Medea raged.

  “What the fuck did you do to my prospect!” The God floated from his throne— as he began flutter his hands— green spirals enveloping both.

  “I gave him Richard’s powers— you saw before I destroyed that world that I stole it from him— now look, he’s powered up.” Loki grinned.

  “You just removed his best attribute! That he had no powers— he relied all on his intuition— his intelligence, now he’s no better than the rest.”“Kheh.” A snicker emerged from the participants.

  “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHA!” Saraline’s laughter encased the room— bleeding all throughout, “You lost your prospect! Now what? You look down on us— yet have the same human emotions! You only gained your godliness from luck? What makes you so keen loser!”

  Medea walked over to her— kicking her in the chest causing her to tumble over, she continued laughing.

  “What…ever.” The God spat on her face before hovering in the sky, “I choose you! Lichness Evergard to become a puck— to resurrect the dead ones and keep fighting.” He flung a banner at Lichness— encasing him fully and muffling his voice as he disappeared— the banner collapsing to the ground.

  “That is it— everyone remaining was not selected, feel free to apply elsewhere such as Samiel’s army— you are not a suitable fit for either of us.” Medea lectured.

  “How?” Dara muttered— she got up from her kneel, barely standing as she cried, “I did everything!”

  “Opposite.” Thidos shook his head, she stared into the pure white shadow who sat on his throne— disappointed, “You all have several hinderances— major flaws we cannot overlook. Dara Sepers, your instability and lack of control over Rallio is scary— we cannot handle that. Either of us— what if you go berserk on a battlefield and kill allies?”

  “Saraline Grover— the failure, you failed to get picked— how suitable.” Paris laughed.

  “I didn’t want to— I’d rather die than work under one of these bastards, I’ll be a hero a different way.” The woman shrugged— she walked out, as Psylaiso followed— Dara shortly after.

  “What about me?” Nil shrieked.

  “Nil Alare, you are insane— not a weaponized insanity no, you are evil— evil to the extent I don’t know where to put you, certainly not here.” Thidos grimaced.

  “Evil? I just followed the Imp— how’s that evil?” She flicked her arms around— her tail wagging, “Whatever— lies from Lords only exemplifies the truth the Invalia Mutilator preached.”— she claimed before floating through the doors, staining the golden exterior with blue patches.

  Mog laid unconscious as Richard stared at him— crying.

  “Richard Lopez. Failure— I wonder how Roxanne feels.” Medea chuckled before carrying Mog’s body, “He still may have use— I’ll try.”— he closed his eyes, flying through the infinite Cathedral’s ceiling to return to Ostra, his world.

  Paris walked over to Richard— Thidos sat on his throne, spectating.

  “Richard… buddy, you still upset?”

  “I’m useless now— I can’t do anything, I’m weak. Too weak to save Roxanne. Too weak to be picked?”

  Paris put his arm around Richard’s shoulder, “You are right— you couldn’t even save her.” he whispered in his ear, before choking him.

  Richard’s gasps— his coughs, they screamed out.

  Thidos smiled— “Loki, that’s enough. Don’t kill scum on such holy ground— it’s why I didn’t kill Amarze or Miles— I’ll let the labyrinth do that to them.” He clapped his hand— sending Richard away.

  To where? I don’t know.

  Paris stared at Thidos— grinning, “Hayah. “ .

  Before bowing to the audience- “And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes tonight’s show. Don’t change the channel — it only gets worse from here.”

  Wow, that was exciting wasn't it?

  Stay tuned for the next arc dropping this week with a twist at the start.

  Arc 6: HellRaiser