Live
The red sky always carried a rotten glow, like the moment of sunset. Hell's morning wasn't marked by the sun rising—it was when the blood scent began to mingle again. The light was murky, the air heavy with the stench of congealed blood and cooled iron. Still, more of them rose today than yesterday. Crawling, stumbling, or collapsing back down after trying to stand.
"......Count the ones who are up. Include the ones who fell."
El nodded cautiously beside me.
Armless ones. Legless ones dragging their shattered limbs. Ones whose eyes had burned away. Those I'd forcibly pieced back together as best I could yesterday stood before me.
El clutched a small bone shard in her hand and began counting.
"Armless kids... twelve."
"Limp-legged ones... twenty-three."
"Blind ones... eight."
One of the blind ones lifted his head. "What about... me?"
"You've been gone since yesterday."
He chuckled. "Still can't see today."
Blood and the faint afterglow of recovery clung thinly to El's palm. Not clear golden light, but a murky red, like a drop of blood mixed in. She'd used it a bit longer than yesterday. Maybe that's why her light sank in a little deeper today.
No arms grew back. Severed legs didn't regenerate. But the crushed parts were regaining "shape." Toward something less miserable.
"Today's work."
I scanned the gathered demons.
"Clear the dead first."
A raspy voice asked from somewhere. "Then... what next?"
"Clear more."
"The day after too."
Someone cursed; someone else laughed with hollow faces.
"Keep the living ones from dying."
"That's it. All there is."
The corpse mountain towered higher than the broken walls. Torn wings, shattered horns, tiny hands and feet. Angels' severed arms, armor melted by light. Familiar things mashed together, piled like a mountain that had ground down an entire era.
"Ones with legs, start clearing from over there. Ones who can use their hands, separate bone from metal."
The blind demon lifted his head. "You lot who remember paths like me—memorize the spaces as they empty. Once we clear the corpses, decide where we stand on the revealed ground."
He nodded. Whether he understood didn't matter. As long as he moved, as long as he worked.
El approached me. "Better than yesterday... recovery seems to work a bit more."
I looked at her hand. The trembling was less, but the blood had seeped deeper into her palm lines.
"How far?"
"Broken bones might connect if I hold long enough. Crushed parts... regain some shape."
"Arms?"
"Gone ones... not yet." El's shoulders sank just a fraction. "But... if even a little remains, it thickens bit by bit."
"......Impressive."
El tilted her head. "Really?"
"Yeah. And you won't die."
I pointed to the corpse mountain. "Fewer climbers up there—that's the best outcome."
"One rule."
I addressed them all—the moving ones, the dazed standers.
"Live."
The air seemed to pause.
"......That's it?"
Laughter mixed with murmurs somewhere. Even if we knew nothing of this war's reason or meaning.
"Live long enough, and you'll understand someday."
So.
"Live."
Blessing or curse, I didn't know. In hell, they were worth the same.
The demons began to move. Ones pushing corpses with every limb. Ones dragging with one arm before collapsing. Ones groping prone to separate bone and metal.
El roamed, laying hands on those whose breaths were fading.
Light flickered on, then slowly faded.
Wounds weren't fully healed—just tidied like work. Enough to not die.
Trouble erupted among the blind ones. El was rushing there.
The one who remembered sewers and paths to the end. He clutched his head, collapsed on the ground.
"......No."
"No, no..."
"Stay still."
El gently placed both hands on his temples. "Just... endure a little."
This time, the light lingered long before fading.
El's lips paled. Even as her hands shook, the recovery light persisted.
Only after a while did he slowly lift his eyelids. Crude black dots formed where they'd burned away. Not perfect eyes. But enough to distinguish light, shadow, shapes.
He looked at his hands first. Bloodied. Trembling fingers.
Then his gaze rose. Corpse mountain. Shattered horns. Tiny hands, tiny feet.
"......Ah."
A breath-like sound leaked from his mouth.
"Ah... aah..."
His eyes darted wildly. Light entered, shapes formed, colors followed belatedly. Dusky flesh. Ashen bones, cooled blood. And faces that once breathed beside him.
"There..."
A trembling finger pointed somewhere on the corpse mountain.
"That kid there... at the sewer entrance... I went ahead to scout the path, said I'd check..."
A small corpse was wedged half in the rocks, frozen. Eyes squeezed shut, arms outstretched ahead.
"Told it to hide..."
His voice sank into the ground.
"Told it to wait..."
His hand gripped his own throat.
"Die..."
He muttered low.
"Die... die... die..."
At first, I thought it cursed someone else. His gaze swept the corpse mountain.
—Die, die, die.
Aimed at the piled things above. At angels, at heaven, it seemed.
The next instant, he slapped his own face. Blood sprayed.
"Die, die, die, die, die...!!!"
This time, clearly at himself. Forehead, cheek, mouth—whatever his hand reached, he battered wildly. Blood burst, lips tore, teeth cracked.
"I have to die... trash like me... from the start...!!!"
His hand rose to his eyes again. As if to gouge out the barely revived black dots.
El swiftly grabbed it. "No!"
"Let go!!!"
Her small body flew back.
This time, he slammed his head into the ground. Shattered stone tore his forehead.
"Die... die... die, die, die!!!"
Head, chest, throat—whatever he could reach, he pounded. Flesh ripped, blood flowed, breaths rattled.
Still, he repeated the same word. Die. Die. Die.
A curse that couldn't reach anyone tore his body apart.
"Rak...!"
El's voice trembled. I walked to him.
I caught his swinging arm with one hand.
"Let... go...!!!"
I twisted the other arm down to the ground.
"Gaaahk!!!"
His leg kicked toward my gut. I twisted away, stomped his ankle. Bone snapped. All gently broken. Enough not to kill. Enough he couldn't flee.
Finally, he sprawled flat, trembling and gasping.
"Stop..."
"That's enough..."
El looked between us with shaking eyes.
"Die..."
He muttered, face pressed to the ground.
"Kill me..."
"Please... take these eyes too..."
I looked down at him. When blind, he'd been cursed to remember paths. Now, seeing again meant beholding everything he'd left behind—every discarded thing on the road, where and how.
"Live."
I said curtly.
His trembling paused, then shook harder.
"Hah... don't fuck around."
Blood-smeared face grinning. A sound indistinguishable from sobs or laughter.
"You show me this... then kill me..."
"Dying's a reward. You don't qualify yet."
He looked up at me. With his new eyes. Regret. Rage. Loathing.
All turned inward.
"Then... what do you want me to do..."
"Live."
I repeated the same words.
"This is hell. Hell runs on the living. So don't die. Live."
El bowed her head quietly.
He wore a face that couldn't laugh or cry, crumbling slowly, silently.
No more "die" from his lips, but I could see it repeating deep in his pupils.
As time passed, the corpse mountain shrank bit by bit. Angels' armor chunks piled one side, broken horns and bones the other. Flesh and ash scraped from the ground. What lay beneath slowly emerged.
"......A fortress."
One toppled, crumbled, burned—peeking from under corpses and ash.
"What was this place?"
A nearby demon pushing corpses panted.
"......High demon lived here. Owner of this sector."
I gazed at the ruined fortress. More corpses piled where the owner had vanished.
"There."
I pointed to the fortress.
"Rebuild from there."
The demons looked that way. Some sneered, some shook heads, some just stared blankly.
"Base."
I said shortly.
"Where we fall again."
El whispered softly beside me. "Not... where we live?"
I paused, then dipped my head slightly forward.
"The living head out to find where they die anyway."
"But where we die..."
I stepped toward the ruined fortress.
"We decide."
No one left to choose our fall or stand.
"Today, ends here."
"Tomorrow, empty that fortress from inside."
The second day of rebuilding hell ended with a slightly lower corpse mountain and one more revealed ruin.