Michael stood still for a moment, observing before reaching out into his soul space to summon Spartan out of the damaged coffin of the forgotten inner space.
Spartan appeared at his side, suit pristine, glasses untouched, ponytail still neat as if he had not been dismissed at all.
He adjusted his frames once and bowed his head.
"We have arrived, Master."
Michael gave a small nod.
Spartan straightened and looked around at the red sand and red sky.
"This place has a very unfriendly atmosphere," he said quietly.
Michael exhaled, feeling the heat press against his skin.
"Let us go. We still have many floors to reach so we should not waste time here."
Michael turned his gaze to the empty desert ahead and took his first step on the second floor of Hell.
What Michael had not expected was to step on something strange.
A faint crunch came from beneath his boot.
He frowned and looked down.
At first, it looked like a rock half-buried in red sand.
