System: Daily login!!, jackpot on the first day!!!

Taufik and his party kept walking, downward, always downward.

They didn't know how long it had been. Time didn't flow here. It clung to them like oil, heavy and suffocating, each step deeper into Hell feeling like a lifetime.

The corridor stretched endlessly.

Narrow.

Oppressive.

The walls sweated with heat, molten lines pulsing like veins through obsidian stone. The air shimmered with toxic warmth. Even breathing felt like swallowing fire. This was a place that wanted you to stop. To kneel. To give up.

"...This heat..." Kl'lara muttered, her ethereal form flickering faintly. "Even my spirit feels heavy"

"A human would've died ten steps ago," Basukhi grunted.

And still… they walked.

Until-

A light.

"…Finally," Lembuswana said with a gasp, rushing forward. "The way out. It's time to say goodbye to this cursed darkness"

"Lembu, stop!" Taufik's voice cut through the corridor like a blade.

Lembuswana froze mid-step.

"Something's wrong with that light," Taufik said, his voice calm but sharp. His gaze narrowed. "It's too bright. Too fast"

"It's unnatural," Basukhi added, nostrils flaring. "That light-"

He didn't get to finish.

*FWOOOOM!*

The light surged.

No, not light. A blast of radiant energy, roaring through the tunnel like a tidal wave of gold and white flame.

Taufik's eyes widened. "Shit! HUG THE WALL!"

They pressed themselves against the blistering walls just in time.

*WHOOOOOOOOM!!!*

The blast tore past them, a searing wind that shimmered like liquid sunlight, hot enough to melt bone. It scorched the air, turning the darkness behind it into a line of gold-etched ruin.

When it passed, silence fell again. Only the dull throb of molten stone remained.

"...What in the actual fuck was that?!" Lembuswana growled.

Taufik didn't answer at first.

He stepped forward slowly, staring down the now-illuminated corridor.

Where the blast had gone, the walls gleamed faintly, crusted in thin, golden residue, a layer of scorched wealth that hadn't been there before.

"...It wasn't just light," he muttered. "It was gold... molten, sacred, cursed gold"

Kl'lara floated beside him, eyes narrowing. "Weaponized Greed"

"Exactly... If the book I once read is right... Then we've reached Faqaras, it's Mammon's domain"

He looked to the others.

"Stay alert. If that was a warning, we've just stepped into something worse than illusions…"

He started walking again, toward the source of that unnatural radiance.

As they stepped beyond the gate, they found themselves in a place so stunning, so lavish, that it defied the very idea of Hell.

It was a vision carved straight from humanity's deepest desires, a paradise gilded in excess.

A land of gold stretched endlessly, glimmering under a molten sky.

Crystal-clear rivers flowed not with water, but with liquefied silver and nectarous wine.

Trees bore fruits encrusted with jewels, while marble fountains wept coins instead of water.

Mansions of ivory and sapphire dotted the horizon, each more opulent than the last.

If one didn't know better, they would call it Heaven.

"...This... even for a being like me... This is-" Lembu began, awe glinting in his eyes.

"Stop," Taufik cut in sharply. His voice was stern, yet calm. "This is Mammon's Domain. The Gilded Tyrant, Sin of Greed. You're under his influence. Keep your mind straight"

Lembu blinked, as if waking from a dream, and slowly nodded.

"But my lord..." Kl'lara whispered, gripping her scythe uneasily. "Why is it so quiet? Where did that blast come from earlier?"

It was Basukhi who answered, his eyes never leaving the heavens above.

"...Above," he murmured.

They all followed his gaze, and what they saw froze them in place.

Suspended in the molten gold sky, like insects caught in amber, were angels. Countless of them.

But they were no longer divine.

Their wings were aflame, charred feathers dripping embers into the air.

Their halos, once symbols of sanctity, had twisted into molten crowns fused to their skulls.

Their faces bore no expression... no mercy, no sorrow, only hollow reverence for a false god.

They hovered motionless, like silent sentinels of wealth and damnation.

"...These aren't angels," Kl'lara said, tightening her grip. "They're something else entirely"

"No," Basukhi replied, his voice unusually heavy. "They were angels... before they chose greed. Before they offered themselves to Mammon"

The air around them was thick, not with heat alone, but with want. It slithered into their minds like silk, offering comfort, luxury, fulfillment.

Taufik took another step. The golden tiles beneath his boots pulsed faintly, like something alive had taken notice of him.

"...The Hollow Citadel," he whispered. "The wealth of a thousand conquered realms stacked upon itself until it collapsed inward"

He turned, facing his party with grim clarity.

"Listen closely," he said. "Everything here will try to buy your soul, not with coins, but with desire. Mammon doesn't use chains. He offers you everything you ever wanted… and waits for you to kneel"

They continued forward, each step heavier than the last.

In the distance, the Hollow Citadel loomed. Its towers spiraled endlessly, built from relics of fallen civilizations, stacked so high they scraped the golden dome above.

Around them rose mountains of treasure, cursed gold, swords of kings, relics of gods, and fragments of worlds.

Not guarded by walls.

Guarded by hunger, the hunger in one's heart.

Cages lined the roads, and inside, damned souls sat in silence, their mouths open in eternal screams, but no sound came. They had been offered their dreams... and in accepting them, had lost their voices.

This was no battlefield of strength or steel.

This was a crucible of self-control.

A war of will.

A trial of the soul.

And still, they walked.

Not upon tiles or stones, but on a path woven from Greed itself, each step echoing with whispers, honeyed promises that slithered into their ears like serpents.

"Take it," the wind seemed to murmur.

"Stop. Rest. You've earned it"

"Just one wish. Just one desire"

"Everything you've ever wanted… for the price of nothing"

But none of that mattered.

Lembuswana and Basukhi marched on, beasts forged in primeval times, beings who saw wealth not as treasure, but as ash. Power was their only currency, the only truth they bowed to. Gold could not tame them. Pleasure could not break them.

Kl'lara followed with quiet grace, her presence like a breeze in a graveyard.

She was a spirit born of death, a shepherd of ends. Before her, wealth meant nothing. Jewels rot. Empires crumble. Even gold bleeds away in time.

And Taufik… He had seen too much.

Faced too much.

Lost too much. ("Lost" I mean here is Time, Time for his family, just to let you know)

... Had too much.

The illusions of wealth, of comfort, of desire, he had long since buried those under the weight of truth.

Whatever Mammon's domain whispered, it was nothing compared to the voices he had already silenced.

So they walked.

And walked.

Through gardens of silvered lies. Past palaces that watched them like predators. Under skies that hung heavy with judgment.

They reached the Hollow Citadel.

Crossed the River of Reflections.

Passed beneath arches carved from the bones of fallen saints.

And still... nothing.

No armies. No guardians. No war cries or traps.

Just silence.

They reached the Gate of the Fourth Circle, tall, ancient, and closed. The gilded path behind them gleamed, unbroken.

It was… unsettling.

A domain of greed with no resistance.

No defense.

No price.

And that made one thing clear.

It hadn't begun yet.

Not truly.

Not yet.

--------

"...Something about this isn't right," Basukhi muttered, his eyes narrowing as the four of them stood before the Gate of the Fourth Circle. The air was still... too still. "Do you feel it too, Fik?"

"I do," Taufik replied, his gaze locked onto the ancient gate. Its surface was smooth, unblemished, and utterly silent. "Even Mammon didn't show up. That alone means they've prepared something... something worse"

Lembuswana, ever direct and unbothered, let out a grunt. "Well, I mean, we walked through this one easily. Isn't that good?"

Taufik gave a quiet nod, but his expression remained unreadable.

His eyes lifted toward the sky behind them.

The Burning Angel still hovered there, suspended in the ashen heavens. Not once had it raised its blade. Not once had it attacked. It only watched.

Following them.

Observing.

Almost as if it was... waiting.

Taufik's brow furrowed. That thought, it didn't sit well in his mind. He shook his head slightly, forcing away the creeping unease coiling in his gut.

"Forget it," he said at last. XLet's keep going"

He stepped forward and placed his hand upon the gate, fingers brushing against cold, unwelcoming stone.

And just as he did-

*Swoosh!*

A blast cut through the air behind them.

Fast. Piercing. Too familiar.

It wasn't as massive as before, but it carried the same signature. The same twisted force.

It slammed into the gate beside Taufik's hand, shaking the entire structure with a deep, hollow BOOM.

Dust scattered. The impact reverberated through the ground, a low hum echoing into the depths beyond the gate.

Taufik snapped his head back.

"...No," he whispered.

This wasn't just a trap.

This was a message.

....

...

..

.