Arga regained consciousness and found himself in a place that resembled hell, with flames flickering everywhere. Yet, his first thought was: Why isn't it hot? And why was it so silent? Fire surrounded him, and the ground beneath him was cracked, revealing flowing lava, but again—there was no heat.
Arga stood up and, with all his remaining strength, limped forward, trying to understand this place. As he looked down into a massive ravine, he saw a horde of demons clashing with spears and swords. At first, Arga thought it was just a game or a drill, but the reality was grim; they were fighting to the death. Eventually, only one remained—a demon wielding dual swords.
The demon let out a roar, celebrating its victory. When it turned around and spotted Arga, it unfurled its wings and took flight toward him. Panic surged through Arga. He tried to run despite the searing pain in his leg, but he was no match for the demon's speed. A heavy blow struck his head, sending him crashing to the ground. With his fading consciousness, he saw the demon approaching before he blacked out once more.
...
???: (Slapping his face) "Hey, wake up! You piece of filth!"
Arga opened his eyes, startled to find himself tied upright, surrounded by grotesque, malformed demons. Some had legs growing out of their heads, others had inverted bodies, and one even had eyes on its thighs. They looked confused—how could a human be here before the apocalypse had even begun?
One of the demons: (Approaching) "O human, why are you here? What sin did you commit to make God so furious that He sent you straight to hell?"
Arga remained silent, unsure of how to answer. He was still baffled by how the cult members seemed to use actual magic. His long silence only fueled the demon's curiosity.
The same demon: "Did you hurt your mother? Your wife? Did you take a woman's purity? Were you a drunkard? Did you break someone's heart so deeply they couldn't forgive you? What did you do, human?"
Arga's mind raced. He wanted to say he was dumped here by a cult, but a different thought took hold. This could be his chance for revenge.
Arga: "I am here as an envoy of Regh. He tasked me with retrieving the Holy Sword from the castle and bringing the strongest demons to exact revenge upon the angels."
Hearing this, the demons knelt in fear, though their faces also betrayed a simmering rage—as if this was the moment they had been waiting for.
The same demon: (Growling) "Who? Who shall be the candidates?"
Arga: "You must fight one another. Whoever survives shall come with me."
Without a second thought, the demons grabbed their weapons and began slaughtering each other. Arga smirked. Using a razor blade hidden in his pocket, he cut his bonds. He walked calmly through the chaos, passing demons who were too busy trading blows to notice him. He reached the castle ahead and sprinted toward it.
He climbed a steep hill until his hands bled, nearly falling several times. When he finally reached the top, gasping for air, he approached the gate. Before him lay the most terrifying sight he had ever seen: lava falling like waterfalls, sinister black and red clouds, and eerie screams echoing like souls in agony. Arga almost lost his nerve, but he pushed forward despite his terror, fighting back tears and the urge to flee.
At the gate, he realized the castle was empty. No guards, no life. Perhaps there was no king anymore, or perhaps it had simply been abandoned. Inside, there was only one room: the throne room. It was filled with statues and cryptic paintings that made no sense. In the distance, Arga saw it—a sword resting on the royal seat. He approached cautiously, expecting an ambush, but nothing stopped him. He climbed the stairs—so high it felt like ascending a skyscraper—until he reached the top, nearly fainting from exhaustion.
The sword was there. Its hilt was shaped like a scorpion's tail, and the blade was embedded with a mysterious, dark red substance that looked like raw flesh.
The moment he touched it, his fear evaporated. He felt a surge of courage and power. As he sat on the throne, a voice called out to him.
???: "O honorable one, perfect creature of God... are you now my master?"
Arga jumped up, pointing the sword in every direction, but the voice was soothing.
The Sword: "Calm yourself, my master. I am the sword you hold. Do not fear; I am here to serve you."
Arga: (Looking at the blade) "You... you can talk?"
The Sword: "Of course, master. Before we proceed, allow me to state my name so you are not confused. I am Barazt, and I am yours to command."
Arga: "Your name was Barazt? Can I give you a new name?"
Barazt: "Certainly, master. What shall you call me?"
Arga looked at the hilt again and an idea struck him.
Arga: "Your name is now Scorpion. It means 'Belonging to the King'." (In his heart: "Yeah, right. Psych!")
Scorpion: "Thank you for the name, master. Now, what is our next move? I am at your disposal."
Arga: (Sitting back on the throne) "Wait, let me think."
Arga remembered the lie he told the demons. He had to figure out his next step. "Scorpion!"
Scorpion: "Yes, master?"
Arga: "Do you know how to get back to Earth?"
Scorpion: "Of course. I can open the gate whenever you wish. Do you intend to return and become a ruler there?"
Arga: "No, I just want to go home." (Standing up) "But first, let's go. We're going to lead a battle."
Deep down, Arga wanted to go home immediately, but he couldn't resist the urge to play "war" in hell for a bit.
Scorpion: "Master, why are you walking? That will take far too long."
Suddenly, Scorpion attached himself to Arga's back and sprouted massive wings.
Arga: (Flailing) "Whoa! How do I control this!?"
Scorpion: "Relax, master. I am adjusting to your form."
In moments, Arga was soaring through the air. After a bit of practice, he flew out of the castle toward the demons. Below, he saw a field of corpses with only a few survivors waiting for his return. Arga smiled as he descended, brandishing the holy sword. The demons gasped; the blade of the former king was now in his hands.
They all fell to their knees, awaiting his command.
Arga: "Prepare the legions! Sharpen your blades! Summon your courage! We go to war. We will show them that what is 'evil' isn't always bad, and what is 'good' isn't always pure!"
The demons erupted in cheers, chanting the name of their new king—the one who would lead their retaliation against the angels.