"This dream again, huh."

The embers flew like fireflies in the air. Black tar smoke billowed from the cacophonous flame.

And beyond that, the sky, reddened with his sins.

An unmistakable stench, of burning wood and boiling fat.

It filled his nostrils and breath with a tacky feeling. It was a characteristic of the flames he had incurred that he had long grown accustomed to, as did the unending screams that pierced his ears.

It was a drawl that he had heard so often. It was grating to the hearing, but he had grown used to it.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Words passed down from God to man.

He had simply followed that declaration.

He was not a good person. That was an understatement.

Murderer. Terrorist… Teacher.

What right did he have to hold that title?

He closed his eyes to take a break from the sight.

Even now, he could hear their screams.

Uncountable. Immeasurable. Infinite.

Then, the screaming stopped.

He opened his eyes.

A blank void.

He saw a white building in front of him.

A cathedral. A blank slate, with none of the decorative flair, yet unmistakable.

This was new.

Atop the cathedral, he saw a bell, as blank as everything else.

It shook. He somehow expected it to make a ring, to beckon for a mass, but he heard nothing.

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

The only thing he heard then and there were his thoughts.

This was a void, yet it was filled to the brim with deprecation and doubts.

Perhaps this was his punishment for all eternity. This limbo of unending torture, of being so close to hell and yet so far from retribution.

He would've preferred to be truly punished, condemned for his sins, and yet he was given another chance within the world he found himself.

He hated it. But he had to go on. There was no choice, when he had a responsibility.

He touched the gates. They felt like chalk, seeming to crumble within his hands, yet it stood tall.

Pushing them open, he walked into the cathedral.

Church pews stretched as far as the eye could see, yet it was blank as ever.

No decorations.

No stained glass.

Just a white blankness.

Not even a cross.

It was then he gazed upon the stage that sat in the middle of this unending calm chaos.

An orb stood. It was white.

He blinked. It was golden.

He blinked again.

A white mobius strip. An unending curve.

Again.

A golden snake, eating its own tail. Ouroboros.

Again.

A white pistol. It was familiar.

Once more.

He saw… a man.

A man, dressed in a white suit. A blue tie.

"Schale", the tie said.

But that man was not him. It could not be.

The man smiled. Judgmental, it was not.

Acceptance. But above the man's head was…

A halo. A crimson red.

Triangles shaped like knives stretched from the middle, interconnected at the seams.

Several circular rings, separated with thirteen letters he recognized.

Delta. Epsilon. Chi. Alpha…

No further letters need to be read.

He knew what this was.

Decagrammaton.

It was then he felt a cold and sticky feeling in his hands.

He looked down, raising his hands, putting his palms into his sight.

Black leather gloves. He used to always wear them, but no longer. They were tainted with a familiar liquid.

Blood.

He gazed upon what he wore. A black suit, and a tie that matched it so aptly.

This was what he used to wear.

A gas mask was strapped to his side, just as it always had been.

It was a familiar sight. But this didn't make sense.

This was what he wore back then.

What he wore when…

He took Kether's life with his own two hands.

"You made me take their lives, Kether."

"I did nothing. I merely guided you."

"So many, and for what? Why did you make me do this?"

"Hmph. You know the answer to that, don't you?"

"...I see. Then I know what I must do."

It was then and there, that he strangled him to death.

Somehow, it had been cathartic, yet it had been done in a fit of rage, of having done so many crimes at the behest of the machinations of a madman.

Why had he listened? Why had he partaken in such senseless slaughter?

He didn't know anymore. That answer had been lost to him with time and his life.

Time… his life…

He looked up at the man who stood in the middle of the cathedral.

That man held a black card in his hand.

The man shook his head. He held the card in front of his face, letting out a puff of air.

The card faded away into nothingness, like dust.

Upon that sight, he felt something change. His sight warped.

A faint smell. Something was in his mouth.

It was a capsule. One he had partaken in, after doing the deed.

His taste buds were numb, yet he could smell it.

It smelled of almonds.

A red liquid slowly dripped out of his mouth. He knew what it was.

He struggled to stand.

Nothing made sense.

The man in front of him smiled once more, spreading his arms wide, beckoning him.

With a kindly voice, it spoke.

"Welcome…"

Nevertheless, he knew what that man was going to say.

He tried to shy away from it, but he knew what was to come.

"Chesed."

And then, he knew nothing.