The negative side of the Great Cycle, the Court of Judgment of the Dead, Hell.
All the judges and patrolmen had set aside their work and assembled at the border where Hell met the Abyss. They stood in ranks so neat they looked as though they had been drawn with drafting tools, silent and motionless as they watched the churning, boiling Abyss.
Countless demons roared within it, countless worlds collapsed one after another, and as enormous formless things continued to climb upward, the entire Abyss was gradually merging into one.
In the process, innumerable demons died, their bodies melting away to become part of the newborn Abyss. Yet a few lucky ones survived, absorbing vast amounts of energy and evolving into even more powerful and terrifying forms.
They were still somewhat muddled for now, but it would not be long before they regained their senses. Then, led by the demon gods, they would launch frenzied attacks upon every place they could reach—attacking everything, destroying everything, annihilating everything.
And Hell, which had long stood in the way of their invasion of the Main Plane, was the thorn in their eye and the splinter in their flesh. It would surely face an extraordinarily fierce assault.
Thus, all of Hell's fighting forces had assembled, ready to meet this great battle.
Every blade had been polished until it gleamed like snow, reflecting the stern killing intent on the warriors' faces; every spear pointed forward, its tip glinting with a chilling light. The powerful spellcasters had their eyes closed, seizing every moment to prepare their spells. The lofty kings of Hell had shed their usual formal attire and donned full battle dress, weapons in hand, standing among the army as well.
There was no need for mobilization, nor were there any impassioned slogans. To these