"The Devil wants to talk to you."

The most chilling words he'd heard since... well, ever. But he laughed anyway because there was no chance in all of Great Hell that The Devil would want to talk to him. It was only comparable to a monarch asking to talk to a random citizen. If the monarch had wings, horns, blood red skin, and the ability to make anyone instantly wish they were dead with a single glance.

Whether that was an actual power or not was beyond him.

Ewan chuckled, raising an eyebrow at the demoness that stood in front of him like a disappointed queen. "Very funny, love. Almost scared the soul out of me," he said, crossing his arms. He scoffed. "The Devil wants to talk to me, my ass."

"The Devil sent me to get you, Ewan," she clarified. Then she gained a look of disgust on her otherwise superior-looking face. "Otherwise I wouldn't be down here with you."

"Oh, because torturing some other soul is better than hanging out with your best friend," he mumbled, casting the demoness a side-glare. He soon returned to his windowsill, looking down at the endless expanse of fire after pushing the curtain back. A thought struck him, bringing his gaze back to her curiously."Wait, 'down here'?"

The demoness was silent before shifting excitedly, a giant grin on her lips. "I've been promoted."

This caught Ewan's attention. Quickly, he stood up, eyes going wide. "You what?"

"I work on the ninth floor," she teased, her smirk a mile long, "serving the Dark Master himself. Crazy, isn't it?"

He scoffed yet again, lighting a cigarette that he brought from his pocket. "And when did this happen, then?" he replied, putting the cigarette between his lips and taking a deep breath. Exhaling, he held the cigarette in his fingers and offered it to her, but she shook her head. Ewan took another drag.

"This morning. I was going to tell you tomorrow, but I've been so busy that I think now would have been the only time," she said. The excitement was clear in her tone and she was grinning like a maniac.

The news was exciting, surely. His heart swelled with joy at the realization that his friend, the demoness, the Devil-made woman he'd grown up in Hell with, had made her ranks.

"Care to... suggest my name to the big guy?" he asked, tilting his head.

"You'll be done soon, anyway," she said behind a smile. Then she giggled, eyes bright with excitement. "But do you know what this means, Ewan?"

The demon paused, considering what it might mean. But he only shrugged. "What does it mean?"

"I'm better than you," she teased. Her face was absolutely consumed by her smile.

Ewan rolled his eyes, then raised an eyebrow. "Well? Come on, then. Tell me everything."

And then the two sat and talked for what felt like hours about everything leading up to the demonesses promotion. At the end of it all, Ewan had gone through a cigarette and the demoness had decided to take one as well, and the two then just sat, staring at the ceiling, smoking and talking.

Soon, the demoness sat up. "He's also given me a name."

Ewan sat up sharply, eyes wide. "Are you kidding? All of this, this morning?"

She nodded eagerly, cheeks flushing with excitement. "Aliyah."

They sat in silence, soaking up the name. Ewan was bursting with excitement. His friend, previously only known as 'demoness' for hundreds of years, was now Aliyah. Whatever it meant, whatever it was, it was the most beautiful name he'd ever heard. The two giggled together, and Ewan curled his toes, ecstatic.

"How'd you get here, then? If he hadn't asked you to come here," he asked, heart pounding.

She held up her Enchantment, now glowing nine different colors. "I can switch Sins now. At my own will. Whenever I want, Ewan, I can just... go."

Ewan's eyes became glued to the Enchantment. It was a circle made of black metal with nine columns. Each was supposed to hold a different color, a new level of power granted. He had seven columns filled. Red, orange, yellow, blue, navy blue, purple, and black.

The demoness - Aliyah - had the last two colors, grey and white.

"That's phenomenal, Aliyah, really. I just... wow," he laughed. It was so fortunate for her. So lovely. So fantastic. And he wasn't even jealous, not really. He was just happy.

Aliyah nodded. She let out a satisfied sigh. "Anyway, I'd better get back." She put out her cigarette on her hand, and they both watched the fire die. "I'll see you soon, hopefully, Ginger."

Ewan nodded and saluted lazily, watching her just... disappear.

It wasn't that Ewan wasn't happy with his life. He was so fortunate to be serving the Dark Master, to get to work with the Sinners and break them until they, too, got an Enchantment and they, too, got to make the ranks just like he was. But the Surface was always an idea that astounded him. Going there and living... He wasn't supposed to want that. Those desires were supposed to be gone with everything else he'd left in Greed.

But everyone said, once in a Sin, always in the Sin. He'd never truly leave Greed, just like all the other Sins he'd been in. The idea was that you got a new column filled whenever you finished working in a Sin - torturing souls, offering help. Ewan just had to finish working in Despair, then he would meet The Devil, who would give him his final column. Then Ewan would be able to work wherever he chose.

He got up, sighing softly. Currently, he was clad in a silk black robe with black sweatpants, revealing his rather scrawny, freckled pale chest as well as his Enchantment. Depending on what Sin you were in or how many you'd been through, some preferred to keep their Enchantment's hidden in their clothing. Ewan wasn't ashamed, exactly, of his seven columns. But he did prefer to tuck it into shirts when he wore them.

Slowly, he walked into the bathroom, rubbing his face with his cigarette still dangling from his fingers. He was exhausted. Running a hand through his curly yet shaggy red hair, he exhaled smoke onto the mirror, staring into his bright green eyes. Soon, he pushed himself off the sink and took off his robe, gritting his teeth.

Footsteps sounded in his living room, and he rolled his eyes, turning around. "Aliyah, if you've come to gloat more, I suggest-"

It was The Devil himself.

In his living room.

Staring out the window. 

Or, at the curtain covering it. But it was him. The tall man standing right in his living room. 

That was The Devil.

"M-My Lord," stammered Ewan, knowing he should kneel but he couldn't even move. He was stuck staring at The Devil.

"You should probably be kneeling," The Devil muttered in a bored tone, drawing his gaze slowly to Ewan, "but whatever."

Ewan blinked absently, breathing, "Sorry."

It felt surreal, staring at him in the endless black pits the demon had for eyes. The Devil wore a tuxedo, his huge bat-like wings peaking over his shoulders, folded neatly. He had about eight-inch long bull horns protruding from his head, but brown, nicely combed hair remained there as well. His skin was as red as blood, even his hands, which had long, black claws on the ends. Otherwise, somehow, he looked like a normal person - demon, rather. Topped, of course, with an entirely black Enchantment in the shape of a pentagram.

"Cigarette?" asked Ewan, having nothing else to offer The Devil. Who was standing in his living room, examining the walls.

Every room in the Chasm was the same, though.

The Chasm, further, was a nine-story, gigantic mansion that sat in the middle of Hell, where the demons and The Devil himself resided. Anything other than the Chasm was the expanse of Hell itself and a long, endless sidewalk. Nothing lived there but Wanderers and the Beasts. The Wanderers were those cast to Hell who refused to enter the door, left stranded in the expanse of fire that would burn them endlessly but never kill them. It was their own sort of torture. And the Beasts were the giant, twenty-foot monsters that roamed the fire, eating Wanderers who could never die and guarding the doors to Hell. 

From just what, no one knew. 

Each floor in the Chasm held a different Sin, starting with Sloth, then Gluttony, Envy, Greed, Pride, Wrath, and then Despair. The ninth floor was The Devil's quarters, as well as those who served directly under him, like Aliyah.

On each floor, furthermore, were sinners that were doomed to years of torture and torment done by demons until, on their 1000th year of torture, they were graduated to demon. And from then, it was up to pure chance which Sin you were sent to.

"Ewan," muttered The Devil, "give me a cigarette."

Snapped from his daze, Ewan began fumbling around for his pack, hoping to find it in his pocket but came to remember it was on the floor, where he and Aliyah had been laying.

"God and I had a conversation."

At this, Ewan spat out the cigarette he had in his mouth. The Devil was coming here to tell him that?

"Have you," said Ewan as calmly as possible, snuffing out the cigarette with his foot. "That's, um... interesting."

It was actually unheard of. God and The Devil talking? Everyone made it sound like a myth. The mere idea of the two even looking at each other seemed like a pure joke. But here the Dark Master was, in Ewan's chambers, telling him about it.

"How many columns do you have, Ewan?" asked The Devil, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Seven," Ewan replied. His eyes wandered to the pack of cigarettes behind the boss, and he was quick to lift a finger and expertly navigated levitating the box over to himself, where he took a stick out and lifted a finger. A tiny, orange fire erupted from his black fingernail, and he handed the lit cigarette to the beast in front of him.

Their fingers grazed as The Devil took it elegantly. He put it between his lips, inhaled, then exhaled and looked Ewan over.

"You've been working here for, what, ninety-nine years?" mused the beast.

"Y-Yessir," Ewan stammered. Was this what a promotion felt like?

The Dark Master nodded slowly. There was a minute of silence as he took another drag and exhaled, studying Ewan.

"We've decided to send you to the Surface," he said quietly. Casually. Then he rolled his eyes. "Or, I have. Whatever."

Ewan almost felt his heart stop. Hearing the news felt like a punch to the gut, somehow in a good way and a bad way. He felt sick yet overly energized, bursting with happiness.

Instantly, he thought about the demoness. Aliyah. They were like siblings and it would be wrong for him to just up and leave her. But she was already making her ranks - she was already promoted to the ninth column, to work directly below the beast. She didn't need him-

But maybe this was a test. Maybe, in order to gain his ninth column, he had to reject the Dark Master's offer. Pledge his pure, undying allegiance and loyalty to Hell, the Chasm, The Devil himself.

"I'd rather stay here to serve you," said Ewan, smiling slyly. "I'd give up the Surface to stay in Hell with you, and I-"

"Shut up, Ewan," growled The Devil. "This isn't a test. I'm giving you your eighth column right now. You'll get your ninth once you get your task on the Surface, and then you'll be gone. Understood?"

The demon fell silent, looking up at the beast in awe. He was actually being gifted freedom to the Surface? Actually allowed to leave and live in a place with people who walked around and laughed and smiled and different cultures and different existences, where each person had their own interests, their own life, their own... meaning.

He'd been human once, of course. He'd lived an interesting life and once it all ended, he had been cast down here. He'd suffered the usual torture for 1000 years, then he'd gone through each Sin, 100 years each. Just like every demon. But now he was going to the Surface.

And why? Why? Why was he so important? Why was he being sent to the Surface, to the world of the living? What did he have?

"When, um... right. When do I start?" asked Ewan, raising an eyebrow nervously.

"Ewan O'Connor is done with his term in Despair," mumbled The Devil.

Quickly, Ewan glanced down, looking at his Enchantment. He'd tried every 100 years to see the color flick on for the first time on the pendant, but he'd never gotten to. Always too late. This time, he got to watch the grey flutter to life and he felt a surge of power that seemed to give him new life, as it did every time.

Colors didn't correlate to powers in the same sense that not everyone had the same power set. Powers weren't linked to anything either - not how well of a job you did, not your personality, not even how you talked. Sometimes you got an ability, sometimes you didn't. And most demons had three or four.

Ewan had levitation, fire, empathy, invisibility. Abilities that were considered average - less than, if anything. Some were able to warp reality for their Sinners, some were able to shapeshift and become something even more terrifying, some were able to even melt certain limbs on their Sinner's body and then regenerate them.

None of his powers really assisted in Hell-level torture so he, like most "middle-class" demons, improvised.

"Your newest thing is wings," said the beast in monotone, tilting his head ever so slightly, examining Ewan slowly and almost mockingly. He looked bored if anything.

Again, Ewan felt his heart drop. Wings? That was as unheard of as everything else going on. Sometimes demons did get a new attribute for completing a Sin, but usually, they were horns, tails, even scales sometimes. The only true demon with wings was... The Devil himself.

"Oh," added the beast, "and they'll hurt."

"You, ah... yeah, you should know, hm?" mumbled Ewan, smiling awkwardly. His voice cracked and he blushed. "Right. When do - when do I start?"

"Today. God, though, is the only one who can send you up there. You'll have to get one of my second-hand workers to get you up there."

"They can go... there?" asked Ewan, eyes going wide. "I can go there? I can go anywhere?"

"Now that you've done your Sins," mumbled The Devil, "you can go anywhere you want. And your friend, Aliyah? She's some-demon that can get you to Heaven."

And then he was gone, leaving the smallest pile of red dust with his cigarette in it, extinguished.

Ewan headed for the door, letting out a tired sigh, thinking about all the things he'd have to tell his friend. But then he paused, and he waited because something was wrong and he shouldn't be leaving for some reason.

Gradually, he remembered he was shirtless. He put a black shirt on under his robe, then restarted his trip out.

He found her on the fourth floor with another demoness, and the two were talking about having their ninth column. They were both excited. Thrilled - stoked, even, and they were giggling like maids over a man. The problem, of course, was that Aliyah had never been a 'maid.'

The Devil created specific demons and demoness' for aid in the other demons. People were dying faster than they were being promoted to a demon. That's why Aliyah hadn't had a name until she made it to the ninth column, and that's why none of them had a sense of individuality. But they all did have personalities, and they were able to feel hurt and betrayed.

"Aliyah," called Ewan.

The demoness turned around. They didn't look anything alike, and Ewan forgot if siblings normally did. Not that they were siblings, of course, but it had always felt like it. She had short blond hair in a pixie cut with the brightest, purest blue eyes and gentle, pale skin. As usual, she was clad in a black skin-tight jumpsuit, showing off her figure.

When their gazes met, she smiled brightly and waved her friend away, trotting over to Ewan with her usual big smile. "I can't believe I'm on the fourth floor again. It seems like just yesterday that we'd finished Greed together. And you're on the fourth floor, too - Ewan, did you get your eighth column? Great Hell! That's so fun, what's your-"

"I need to go to Heaven, Aliyah," interrupted Ewan.

She giggled her usually charming giggle. But now it just sounded sad. "Careful saying that. The Devil may hear you."

"The Devil said... He said you could take me, actually," he said softly, unsure of how else to phrase it. Any way of saying it sounded wrong.

Aliyah was quiet before she chuckled humorlessly and shook her head. "Really. I can go all the way up to Heaven? All the way through the Surface to Heaven? That's delusional. And there's no way The Devil told you that." She cleared her throat. Sadness tinged her gaze. "Why would you want to go there, anyway? Aren't you happy here?"

"Y-Yes," stuttered Ewan, "Yes, of course, love. Except that The Devil did tell me. He came to my room and he - he told me that he and God had talked about it and they wanted to send me to the Surface. But only God - listen, I don't know. But he told me that you could take me. That's all he said."

The demoness allowed them another quiet spell, looking him over. Then, "You don't want to go there." Her voice was firm and demanding.

"Aliyah, you know your powers don't work on other demons..."

"You don't want to go there!" she yelled, eyes bursting with color. Red. Rather than the usual beautiful blue. "You don't, Ewan. And I don't want to take you. Just... tell me you don't want to go."

He did. And he didn't. Aliyah was the only thing keeping him here, the only reason he might consider defying The Devil's request. But if he did, and he ended up staying here - sure, he'd stay with Aliyah forever. They'd get to continue being best friends until something else changed. Until a new opportunity came up. Until she got to go to the Surface, or until The Devil decided she wasn't worth his time anymore. But he'd also be rejecting a direct order from The Devil - rejecting his only order from The Devil. And that made him want to go up.

The situation made his head whine in pain.

"I don't," choked out Ewan. "I don't want to leave you, love, but also... I do and I really want you to find more friends here. Someone you can talk to all the time, just like you do with me, and someone - someone better maybe, love, but-"

"You're selfish," she growled. "So selfish. It seems like you'll never actually be out of Greed, Ewan, because you can't think of anyone but yourself."

And then she grabbed his arm and everything vanished, only for them to reappear in a brighter, more open area.

Heaven. The opposite of the Chasm.

He'd heard stories of Heaven before. How everything was absolutely beautiful rather than fiery and dark. Instead of a Chasm, they had the Expanse. An area of eight Virtues spread across the entirety of the land rather than being compacted to an endless building. How, instead of working their way towards serving God directly, they worked towards being independent, away from God, to being their own person. Their own angel. And no angel was created by him - they were all real, dead people who'd deserved Heaven. Because there was no torture in Heaven.

They'd landed right in the middle of it all. They were in a giant, open field with eight different grassy roads leading, likely, to different Virtues. Tons of angels were standing there, staring at the two.

Instantly, Ewan turned to Aliyah, eyes wide. "You need to g-"

It was too late. True, Devil-made demons burned and died in the presence of holiness, and Aliyah was one of them. Her skin was becoming red, her flesh flaking off like burning paper. She didn't look scared. She just stared at Ewan, tears in her eyes.

"See you in Hell," she growled. And then she dissolved, and all that was left, as with The Devil, was a small pile of ash. Black now.

Ewan grit his teeth. She was fine, of course. She'd regenerate in Hell and go back to her usual duties with her nine chasms. But they hadn't gotten to say goodbye. In fact, they'd ended on terrible terms. He'd have to dwell on that later. Right now, he just had to get through this swarm of angels.

Holy objects, specifically, bothered him. Crosses, holy water, even Bibles. Not that he'd ever come across any of these, but he'd been told that these objects rendered him powerless. He was fine, objectively, around angels.

"Why are you here?" asked an angel with an uplifting tone. "Did you get lost?"

Ewan bit the inside of his cheek, letting out a sigh. "I'm here -" His voice broke, so he started again after licking his lips. "I'm here to speak to God, actually."

Everything went silent. Then one certain angel spoke up, stepping from between the crowds and pointing left. Gazes turned to find a tall man - a beautiful man, clad in a white shirt and jeans, and he looked like the only word to describe him was heavenly.

The man smiled politely. He had long, brown hair with blue eyes and gentle, lightly tanned skin. He approached Ewan, and in his hand, he held an Enchantment with silver metal instead of black, like Hell's. There were no chasms achieved. It was simply a blank Enchantment, and when he put it in Ewan's hand, he didn't feel powerless as he should have in the presence of such an object. In fact, he felt a surge of energy rush through him. A different sort of energy than usual, but he couldn't pinpoint it.

Slowly, he looked down at his own Enchantment to find he'd achieved the ninth chasm. The little white chasm glowed, and he looked up at the taller man, holding his breath.

"Are you, um..."

"Your ninth chasm is a mission," said the man. His voice sounded like the ocean and a dream. "Help Ben Sawyer. He will help you. Make his life better and he'll make yours the same. Once your ninth chasm is completed, you'll be done."

"H-How will I get there?" stuttered Ewan. Heaven seemed to render him speechless. The people and the atmosphere were absolutely stunning. Everything was perfect here, everything was so less claustrophobic, less confining. He felt like he belonged there, even - 

But then everything was black once again.