The first person walked in, followed by the second, the third, the fourth... Seven thousand four hundred and twenty-five people vanished one after another at the end of the passage.
The door slowly closed behind them.
There was no sky to be seen in the entire Death Domain.
Above them hung an eternal, low-hanging dark red mist. Sulfurous lightning occasionally flashed through it, illuminating the writhing ground beneath their feet, as though it were alive.
The air reeked of rot, blood, and some pungent chemical odor. Every breath felt like swallowing scorching hot sludge.
The moment Isaac stepped onto this land, his stomach churned.
It wasn't fear. It was familiarity.
This place was exactly like Purgatory.
He thought of Benny, of those days struggling to survive in Purgatory, of the demon hunters torn apart by Abyss Chewers, and of the survivors whose minds had been eroded by Dreamweavers until they became idiots.
Now, he was back again.
Only this time, Benny wasn't there to lead the way, Sam wasn't there to cover him, and Castiel's angelic power wasn't there either. There was only himself and this standard-issue bone blade handed out by the guild, its incantations not even fully engraved.
Footsteps began landing around him.
More than seven thousand people were scattered across the dark red wasteland like a swarm of abandoned ants.
No one spoke. Everyone was watching, adapting, calculating.
Then the first roar came from the distance.
It was the cry of an Abyss Chewer—deep and deafening, like muffled thunder before a landslide—followed by a second, a third, and countless more.
In that instant, the entire wasteland seemed to awaken. Countless Purgatory creatures surged in from every direction, pouncing on this suddenly appeared group of humans.
"Run!" someone shouted.
The group instantly scattered.
Isaac didn't run.
He stood