Gate to the second layer.
The door closed behind them with the sound of worlds grinding together.
For a long moment, there was only silence—heavy, absolute, the kind that seemed to devour even thought.
Then came the wind, slow and cutting, whispering through the ruins like a god exhaling. The four figures stood at the threshold, cloaked in the lingering glow of the first layer, now fading like embers swallowed by night.
Merlin was the first to move. His staff struck the stone once, a dull sound swallowed by the endless white ahead.
"Well," he said, voice hoarse but threaded with brittle humor. "Welcome to the second layer of Hell. I was expecting more.... fire."
Eli snorted. "Be grateful. Fire, at least, means warmth."
They had reached Babylon—or what had once been Babylon. The city that had stood between the layers, guardian and warning, now lay hollow.
