I sat back in my favorite throne-like couch, a glass of dark crimson wine in my hand. The liquid swirled lazily as I tilted the glass, catching the dim, blood-red glow of the sky above the Underworld. The air smelled faintly of sulfur and smoke, the kind of scent that mortals associated with nightmares.
The Underworld stretched before me like a twisted mirror of the mortal world, an upside-down world where blackened spires clawed at the crimson sky. Rivers of molten lava snaked through the land, casting flickering shadows on jagged rocks and skeletal remains of ancient civilizations. Here, the wind whispered tales of despair, and the ground pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, a constant reminder of its living, breathing agony.
My palace stood tall amidst this chaos, an embodiment of both elegance and menace. Its towering obsidian walls glistened like onyx, streaked with veins of red that pulsed as if alive. Jagged spires pierced the smoky air, adorned with glowing runes that radiated both ancient power and warning. The floors were a mosaic of polished black marble and veins of molten lava, giving off a faint, warm glow. A grand staircase spiraled upwards, its balustrade made of bones carved into intricate, hauntingly beautiful designs.
After finishing the last sip of my wine, I stood and walked to the mirror that dominated one corner of my chamber. This was no ordinary mirror; it was ancient, its ornate frame twisted into shapes of writhing souls and howling demons. The glass shimmered unnaturally, rippling like water, and its surface seemed to reflect more than just my image-it reflected truths.
I studied my reflection, tilting my head slightly. Unlike the grotesque demons and monstrous devils that served me, my appearance was deceptively human. Long, jet-black hair cascaded down my back, and my pale skin glowed faintly in the dim light. My crimson eyes, however, betrayed my otherworldly nature, glowing faintly with an inner fire, especially when I used my powers.
Rumors about me abounded in this world. Some whispered that I had once been human, punished by the gods for a sin I couldn't even recall, and sentenced to rule the Underworld for eternity. Others believed I was a goddess who had fallen from grace. None of it mattered. What mattered was that I ruled here, and no one dared to challenge me.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I turned away from the mirror and strode towards my Court. My heels echoed sharply against the marble floor, and the massive double doors to the Court swung open at my approach, creaking ominously.
The Court was a grand hall, its ceiling soaring high into darkness, supported by colossal pillars carved with scenes of torment and justice. The walls glowed faintly, lit by rivers of lava that ran through channels carved into the stone. At the center stood my throne, a masterpiece of obsidian and bone, its jagged edges a testament to its dual nature-both a seat of power and a warning.
As I entered, everyone present-devils, demons, and souls alike-stood and bowed deeply. Their deference pleased me, but I didn't show it. Instead, I ascended the steps to my throne with practiced grace and settled into the seat.
The trials began.
On my right, seated slightly lower, was Enzo, my ever-efficient assistant. His dark robes were immaculate, and he sat with his massive book of records-an exhaustive ledger of sins, crimes, and judgments, both mortal and infernal. His sharp features and piercing gaze complemented his meticulous nature. Enzo was a paradox, equal parts stoic and sardonic, and while he addressed me with the utmost respect, he wasn't above our frequent bouts of banter.
"Soul number 2738," Enzo announced, his voice echoing through the hall.
A trembling soul was dragged forward by two demons, its form flickering and distorted. Its sins were recounted-greed, betrayal, and murder. My crimson eyes glowed as I leaned forward, my voice cutting through the air like a blade.
"Do you regret your actions?" I asked, my tone deceptively soft.
The soul stammered, attempting to plead for mercy, but its words dissolved into incoherent sobs.
"Then you shall face the flames," I declared, my voice echoing with finality. The demons dragged it away, its screams blending with the ambient cries of the Underworld.
This was my routine-judgment after judgment, some merciful, others merciless. Each decision carried weight, and I bore it without hesitation.
When the trials ended, I returned to my chambers, where Enzo soon followed, knocking politely before entering.
"Ah, Your Majesty," he said with a slight bow, his tone bordering on teasing, "another day of exemplary rulership. How ever do you manage it?"
I raised an eyebrow, setting aside the recent mortal file I had been reviewing. "By keeping you in line, Enzo. It's exhausting, really."
He smirked, holding up a scroll. "Your schedule for the next century, as always. Deals to make, sins to punish, and, oh, I believe a mountain of paperwork awaits your review."
I sighed dramatically. "Of course. Because ruling the Underworld wasn't punishment enough, I must also deal with bureaucracy."
Enzo chuckled, but our conversation was interrupted when the ancient mirror in the corner of the room began to glow faintly. I turned to it, my interest piqued.
The glass rippled, and images began to form-a bustling modern city, its skyline dominated by glass and steel. Then, a face appeared, familiar and yet changed.
"Ah," I murmured, tracing a finger along the mirror's surface. "It's been 26 years, hasn't it?"
Enzo tilted his head, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "Is this about that deal?"
I smirked. "Indeed. It's time to retrieve what's mine."
He sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "Oh, the drama of it all. Must you always drag me into these escapades?"
"Must you always complain?" I shot back, smirking. "You know you enjoy it."
With that, I turned away from the mirror, my decision made. "Prepare yourself, Enzo. We're going to the mortal world."
He groaned but followed me, muttering under his breath about my penchant for theatrics. As we stepped through the portal, I couldn't help but smile.
After all, I always enjoyed finishing what I started.