It was a dark space.
If you were buried in snow, remember to spit. Even if you could no longer tell up from down or left from right, the spit would still fall because of gravity. The blood in a person's body was the same.
The souls in Dante's Inferno were all frozen in Ptolemy's Ring. Crying was forbidden to those sinners; their sorrow could only turn inward, because once they cried, the first tears would freeze into ice and fill the sockets beneath their brows completely, like crystal.
vexilla regis prodeunt inferni
Virgil had spoken those Latin words. They meant that the banners of the King of Hell were advancing.
Lucifer, once a handsome six-winged angel, had become a three-headed monster in Hell. Beneath each face were two wings; it was not merely a matter of dividing the original six wings into three.
But rather than studying angels, she was more concerned with the three sinners in the King of Hell's mouth. One of them was Judas, the one holding the money bag in the Last Supper.
Last time, she had asked whether someone who repented at the moment of death ought to be forgiven.
Judas had regretted his betrayal the moment he saw Jesus being arrested. He followed him all the way to the place of trial, and when the verdict was about to be pronounced, Judas could no longer bear the torment of his guilty conscience. He shouted in the courtroom, "He is innocent! Please release him!"
He had even knelt before the Savior, yet the Savior had not said a single word condemning Judas.
Unable to watch the Savior be nailed to the cross, Judas left Jerusalem in despair and hanged himself on the outskirts of the city.
Everything before her suddenly changed, as if blown