Chapter 16 Awake to Justice

Anna's words echoed in Sparda's head as he entered the gate to Hell.

What your comrades have done is evil

What you have done is evil

It is not right to kill, to murder others…

This is not just…..it is not right

I see good in you…..

You do not have to be evil

You have a choice…..

Her words intrigued him and yet he found himself disgusted as well. How could he, a demon, a devil elite, turn on his own kind? Where would his loyalties lie? His honor? As a demon, was it not in his blood to be "evil?" Did killing someone at the thought of it not come naturally to him? Was it not fulfilling to assert his dominance in skill and power over those unfit to live? What was this foolishness called "justice?"……

As Sparda burst through the gate he came upon a gathering of sorts with Mundus' statue at the head. A legion of demons, including Alastor, stood in a semicircle around a battered devil being held up two Abysses. Sparda fell into the crowd as Mundus spoke.

"You dare to defy me, slave!? Do you not understand the consequences of such treason?"

There followed a disconcerting silence as Mundus' deep voice finished echoing through the vast chamber. The empty eyes of the statue were cold and lifeless, yet somehow, impossibly, they stared with deliberate intent. Mundus' next words came out with such gravity and authority that the atmosphere itself seemed to sink in dread.

"Repent of your sins and you shall be absolved…"

The hulking demon, radiating flames, looked up at the Emperor with disdain but did not speak.

"I see. Your obstinacy has driven you to foolishly spurn even what little mercy I have left," Mundus continued. "With your silence, Ifrit, you have sealed your doom. Thus, as is fitting, your fate shall be to be silenced eternally, made into a mere slave to the whims of humanity; a weapon to be used at the discretion of the weakest, lowliest creatures in this world or the next."

With that, the Abysses pulled out their scythes and prepared to attack the subjugated demon. However, naturally, Ifrit did not stand and simply accept his execution. With surprising agility, he leaped out of the blades' paths before they befell him. The two scythes converged on one another, each deflecting the other away. The Abysses continued the attack but Ifrit stood firm; as the first Abyss attempted a slice, Ifrit executed a flaming roundhouse kick hard into his body, completely incinerating him. The next one was already in mid-air, ready to attack, but as he came down he was caught with a monstrous flaming uppercut from Ifrit which sent him flying away ablaze. Suddenly, Ifrit was being attacked on all sides by Abyss', Frost, and Hells that had teleported around him. He incredibly made quick work of them all at once, with a series of rapid punches and kicks, finishing the most powerful ones off with an incredible falling kick from above. As Ifrit stood surrounded the pile of steaming carcasses, he glared back up at the Dark King.

"You will never control me! I do as I will!" Ifrit roared in a deep baritone growl.

The other demons remained still as they waited for a rebuttal from Mundus. Sparda watched the scene intently.

"Is that so? You believe that you possess free will. But just as you stand before me now, you remain at my mercy and it is my will that shall be done."

In a rage, Ifrit leapt into the air, preparing to attack the King himself. The air seemed to suddenly seep out of the Hall as the surrounding demons gasped. Then, just as Ifrit was about to make contact, a blinding white light poured from the statue, halting him in his tracks. Then suddenly an intense beam of energy shot right through Ifrit's left shoulder, nearly taking his entire arm off. This was followed with a barrage of beams throughout his entire body. As he fell limp to the ground, amazingly he was still breathing.

"I would…die…before…I serve..you"

Pleased that Ifrit was still alive, Mundus allowed him to wallow in his pain before striking the fatal blow.

"Yes, slave, you will."

And with those words, Mundus sent a web of red lightning through Ifrit's body. He shook and convulsed, as his mangled body became more deformed with each wave. Sparda could not bear to look and turned away in revulsion. "Now, take his empty carcass[1] to the Wastelands, a fitting grave for this unworthy servant"

As Ifrit expirated his last breath, Sparda looked down at him and he was overwhelmed by shame. He then glanced up at Mundus and feelings of hate and anger burned within him. He could remember seeing Argosax treat his servants the same way and it infuriated him. What have I done? Did I help get rid of one tyrant to appoint a new one? He could not stand the sight anymore and belted away into the dark abyss of Hell.

-----

Going into the farthest regions of the Underworld, Sparda came upon one of the most bizarre places within the demon world.[1] It was the recently created prison dubbed the Black Pit, which held the living captives from the human realm. Not many humans remained in the multiple confines as they were slowly executed or mutilated shortly after their arrival and those who did remain, prayed for death before the demons took them to their doom.

As Sparda landed in the Black Pit, he noticed three humans, still alive, crying in their cell. As he approached, he realized it was a man, and a woman and little girl. On closer observation, he realized the child was the same little girl who he had encountered a few months ago in the human realm. She trembled in fear as he stood in front of the prison bars, constructed of an obsidian-like stone that burned with weak light of souls used to produce it. She held a red ball tightly against her chest as she shook.

"Get away from the bars, Marlene!" screamed her mother. The father stood ready to protect his family from this menacing demon.

Noticing the fear in their faces, Sparda remembered his time spent in the human world and his conversations with Anna. He remembered his role as a demon and their roles as humans. And he remembered how much it hurt Anna that his kind was murdering her people. Sparda was suddenly overcome with feelings of shame and, for the first time, he was disgusted with himself.

Then, in an act of unfathomable endearment, Sparda knelt down to one knee and held his clawed hand out through the bars. The little girl saw the gesture, realized that Sparda was the same demon she had seen before in the human realm, and was suddenly comforted. She began to approach Sparda but her mother stopped her and pulled her back.

"Marlene, no! Stay away from it! You stay away from us!" the father then stood in front of his family and picked up a large bone shard from the ground.

Sparda knew what the man was doing and knew why he was doing it. Only one solution ran across Sparda's mind, talk to them.

"Do not fear me, child……" There were no sinister undertones in Sparda's voice, only honesty and sincerity.

The mother and father then appeared perplexed, confused as to how they could understand one of them. Still stunned, the little girl's parents stood there as Marlene approached Sparda. His clawed hand was still stretched out through the bars of the cell and Marlene slowly placed her red ball in his palm.

"You can have it if you want." Marlene clasped her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth on her tiptoes, giggling. Sparda gazed at the ball and a slight grin ran across his face as he began to playfully toss the ball up and down from his palm into the air.

"What's your name, Mister?" The girl asked.

"Sp--" Sparda was suddenly cutoff by the sound of a bell tolling and a loud screech. Three Hell Vanguards began to lumber down the bloody pathway between the cells, toward Sparda. Marlene dashed back to her mother and father and wrapped her arms around their legs. As the Vanguards walked past Sparda, they glanced at him with heads bowed, showing respect for their general. Sparda stood with his head high as he concealed the ball behind his back. As the Vanguards passed, Sparda relaxed and turned back to Marlene and her family.

"Here, take this!" Sparda said to Marlene, holding out the ball.

"No, I gave it to you, you keep it." She responded with a smile.

"Of what use is this plaything to me? What would you have me do with it?"

Before she could respond, a macabre sound, the dissonant timbre of death rattles pierced by an agonizing moan, belted from within the prison walls. The family looked around, petrified with fear, and Marlene curled on the ground and began crying. Sparda looked around cautiously because he knew what that sound foretold.

Screams of humans could be heard within the neighboring cells, and as the demonic entity passed, they were all sucked back into the blackness of the wall, never to be seen again. Each successive cell yielded more terrible screams; some cells, holding more than a handful of humans, were completely wiped out and shrouded in the darkness of the demonic entity. Some humans held on to the bars as tightly as their bodies would allow, but the only thing left behind were their disembodied limbs, emphasizing the futility of resisting this haunter of the darkness. Over twenty cells were overcome before the screaming had stopped. Sparda knew what was going to happen next, and looked back at the humans in the cell with concern.

It did not take long before The Reaper had slithered up the walls inside the prison behind the family. Sparda stood frozen; he knew what was coming next but found himself unable move. The Reaper was a very unique kind of demon, if could even be understood as such; an ancestor to the Hell clan whose origins were shrouded in obscurity, it appeared as a silhouette, as if the darkness of the Underworld itself were a casting a shadow. It could only manifest itself against solid objects and it could not appear in an open space, but it could, however, snatch its victims from the material realm and submerge them within its own darkness. This demon had already wreaked havoc upon the human world. After the opening of the portal, the Reaper, able to multiply itself countless times, would go to the human world and bring any remaining humans back to Hell after a slaughter. Its manifestation drifted elegantly like a long, flowing robe carrying its signature scythe. As of yet, no means had been found as to how to kill the Reaper. Even the strongest of weapons did nothing against its shadowy body. It was rumored that even Mundus himself would have hesitated in confronting it.

In mere seconds, the Reaper had insinuated its phantom blade between the father's thoracic vertebrae, severing his spinal cord instantly.[3] Blood flowed from his chest as his wife and child screamed for him; he did not make a sound as he was pulled back into the wall, becoming a part of the very body of the Reaper. Inside the Reaper's body, the father was stripped of his flesh and his soul was completely devoured, becoming another prisoner within the black abyss. Sparda knew that fate to be a very gruesome one and cringed at the thought of it.

Then suddenly it hit Sparda. As the cries of the mother and little girl faded out of his mind he realized that the Reaper was not done yet. He had not come there for one soul but for all of them. Sparda's glance quickly fell to the mother and girl huddled on the ground shaking in fear. His glance then shot back up to the Reaper who had just finished "digesting" the father and began to creep back down to the remaining family.

Sparda's breathing suddenly became very rapid and shallow, and for the first time in his life, he dreaded the fate of a soul other than his. He actually cared. He cared about what was going to happen to the little girl and her mother. He cared if they were hurt or not. The feelings rushing through Sparda's body were almost unbearable as they all hit him at once. He continued to breathe more shallowly with each passing moment as the Reaper drew closer and closer to the family. He looked into the eyes of the little girl and saw fear. A fear he had never seen before, the primal fear of an innocent being. He felt an urgent need to defend her, to protect her from the impending terror and at the same time, he pitied her for not being strong enough to defend herself, her body not being strong enough to endure the pain. The entire scenario unfolding before him repulsed Sparda beyond comprehension. He was suddenly disgusted at an act that one of his own kind was going to perpetrate against a human.

Thoughts of Mundus' rule and his subservience to him also ran through his mind. ALL OF THIS……ALL OF THIS IS BECAUSE OF HIM. AND I ALLOWED IT………. It drove him into such a rage that his vision began to recede from the outside world. Time stood still as his emotions rose.[4] It did not take not take long for all of these emotions to come to a head. The Reaper drew dangerously close to the mother and the girl and Sparda suddenly felt a sharp pressure in his chest, beating over and over. He placed his hand to his chest to control the throbbing but it only grew stronger with each moment.

He looked back into the faces of the mother and the daughter and saw the face of Anna looking back at him. Her words then entered his mind once more. You have a choice! Then suddenly something happened. In an instant, the thrashing winds rushing through and around Sparda stopped and he stood calm and focused; his shallow breathing finally ceased altogether as he remained in silent repose.[5] The Reaper was about to make his final attack but was halted by Sparda's words.

"NO……NO MORE!!"

Before the Reaper could even cast his blank stare at Sparda, he was pierced through his gloomy body by Sparda's sword. The cell bars shattered as Sparda held his sword steady in the body of the Reaper. However, as all in Hell knew, no weapon could kill the Reaper, so it stared down at Sparda as if he had made a horrible mistake. But something was different now. Sparda had done something to the Reaper that could not be explained. As Sparda looked up into the Reaper's deep gloom, blinding light began to shoot out of its body. As it shook and seized the wall, it seemed to wonder how Sparda was hurting him, killing him; as an avatar of Death, it had, paradoxically, never experienced death before. Then it looked down and realized that there was now something different about Sparda, something different in his eyes. With other demons, he could always see the darkness in their souls but as he looked into Sparda's eyes he was blinded by some ethereal light.

Within seconds, the Reaper's body was split in two, white light seeping from its two dimensional exterior. It suddenly burst into the material realm and became solid black matter that sizzled in silent agony as the souls contained within its body shot out in every direction. It finally let out one moan of pain before it completely disintegrated and seeped into the ground.

The entire scene was beyond unheard of. Sparda, a demon, had just slain another demon to protect two humans. Beyond that, a Reaper had been destroyed, something that had never happened throughout the entirety of Hell's recorded history. He stood in silence, breathing deeply and slowly as he looked at the sizzling ground where the Reaper once was. He did not know exactly what he had just done but he knew an overwhelming feeling of righteousness overcame him, and a strange, impossible energy surged through his very being.[6] The kill was not a kill made for his own pleasure or to show his strength. It was not because he was obeying orders or giving them. For the first time, he killed because it was right, because it was just. Sparda's mind raced as he tried to figure out his next move. His adrenaline was high and his blood pumped with excitement and rage. He looked over at the girl and mother who looked back at him in shock and fear.

He did not think, he just spoke, "You must get out of here. Now!"

Before either of them could think about it, the mother picked up her daughter and began running out of the cell. However they did not make it far before they were confronted by three Hell Vanguards, eager at the chance to kill them. Sparda knew what he had to do. The Vanguards held out their hands, preparing to conduct their most devastating teleport attack and as the bells rang, they vanished. The ground beneath the mother and daughter began to ripple like water and as the Vanguards plowed their way upwards, their screams could be heard. However, when the dust settled, Marlene and her mother were no longer where they had been standing.

With superhuman speed, Sparda had somehow teleported and snatched them out of harms way. As he placed them on solid ground, the Vanguards looked at him confused and suddenly realized what he had just done. They knew that Sparda was now an enemy. The three Vanguards suddenly became ten as more joined them. They all held out their bony arms preparing to rush at Sparda and the two humans at once. But, as the bell tolled and the Vanguards disappeared, so did Sparda.

Loud cracks and explosions could be heard in the sky and on the ground as Marlene's mother held her close. Only small glimpses of what was happening could be seen because Sparda's movement was so fast. After a few seconds, the shrieking subsided. Then, shards of bone and tattered black cloths fell from the sky and Sparda reappeared in the midst of it all. Not one Hell Vanguard remained.

Sparda looked back at Marlene and her mother. He knew that he could not tell them to just leave. He knew he had to escort them out of Hell himself. And he knew that it would not be an easy task. There was a lot of blood to be shed and at that point, Sparda had no problem spilling it. Something had happened within Sparda that was changing him. The feelings had always been there but they were never recognized until now. He now had an unspoken mission, a mission that filled him with a clarity he had never experienced. He would betray his own kind on behalf of not only these two humans, but for all humans throughout the world. The thought of it drew an odd smile across his face.

Sparda's Rebellion had begun……..

[1] In the original manuscript, it seems as if this expression is meant to signify the demonic weapon which "Ifrit" used, or was himself, in a likewise manner to the sword that "Alastor" carries, or actually is himself. No indication is given on this leaf, but it is safe to assume from other appearance of the character "Ifrit" that this weapon is some type of gauntlet or greave. ~Ed.

[2] This is, of course, speculation on the part of the writer/s, "Didymus the Shrewd." According to the notes in the original manuscript "he" attested to the fact that it was the most bizarre place he had seen in his "visions." Whatever the case of the text's provenance, most the descriptions of Hell would seem bizarre to readers of the time. ~Ed.

[3] Such examples of anatomical detail could not be explained by the science of the time, which would seem to lend credence to the "visionary" hypothesis, if one were careless in their investigation. ~Ed.

[4], [5] My colleagues in the department of Eastern Religion have indicated to me that this is indicative of a state that mystics cultivate, called "samadhi." It is a kind of meditative absorption wherein thoughts cease and mind, body, and spirit become one unified entity. Concomitant to such a state, the "qi" energies in the body, conceived of symbolically as wind, become calm and a state of non-respiration called "hsi" is produced. However, to think that an illiterate 1st century scribe would have details of the stages of Eastern mysticism is plainly preposterous. ~Ed.

[6] From this chapter onwards, my colleagues see an astounding number of parallels to Eastern mystical traditions. For instance, they call this event the "arising of yang chi." My academic opinion is that their views re biased by their narrow field of study, and that they themselves are creating such parallels by eisegetical interpretation. ~Ed.