Tyler was thrown forward violently and crashed onto stone ground, the impact rattling through his bones before he managed to roll and steady himself. When he pushed himself up and looked around, his breath caught.

The town was still there.

But it was no longer the same town.

There was no sky above him. No stars, no clouds, no moon. Only an endless ceiling of darkness, dense and suffocating, like a lid sealed over the world. The air felt heavier, pressing down on his chest with every breath.

The buildings had changed.

Where windows and walls should have been, enormous faces were etched into the stone—faces identical to the preaching old man. Their features were twisted and stretched unnaturally, mouths frozen in half-open expressions, eyes carved deep into the walls. From those eyes flowed thick streams of red blood, cascading down the stone like rain.

The blood did not drip to the ground.

It glowed.

Each crimson stream emitted a dull, pulsing light, illuminating the town in a sickly red hue. Shadows crawled and shifted unnaturally under that light, making the streets feel alive, watching.

Tyler swallowed and began to walk.

People were everywhere.

Townsfolk filled the streets, far more than he had seen above. They were panicking, crying, shouting names into the darkness. Families clung to one another desperately, parents shielding children, mothers holding infants close to their chests as if their bodies alone could protect them. Some knelt on the ground in prayer, while others backed away from anyone who came too close, fear turning neighbors into strangers.

No one knew where they were.

No one knew how they had arrived.

After several minutes of weaving through the crowd, Tyler reached the town center. The open plaza was packed with people who had been slowly herded there by nothing more than instinct and terror.

"You made it too."

Kaeya landed beside him, her voice tight but steady. Behind her stood a small group of adventurers—humans, demi-humans, and beastfolk alike—all armed and tense, eyes darting constantly toward the surrounding buildings.

"They think this is the work of a demon general," Kaeya said quietly. "Some kind of domain or nightmare prison."

"I was looking for yo—" Tyler began.

He stopped.

The mouths on the walls began to move.

Stone cracked and shifted as lips peeled open along the buildings, one after another. The sound that followed was layered and distorted, echoing from every direction at once.

"Welcome to Hell..."

"Welcome to Hell..."

"Welcome to Hell..."

The adventurers reacted immediately, weapons drawn, mana flaring as they took defensive stances. People screamed. Children cried louder. The chanting grew stronger, vibrating through the ground itself.

Then the voice changed.

It became singular.

Clear.

Mocking.

"Since everyone is here," the voice said pleasantly, "we can finally begin."

The blood flowing from the walls pulsed brighter.

"This town has one thousand one hundred and twenty-three people in total," the voice continued, almost conversational. "I do not like that number. It feels messy."

A pause followed, long enough for dread to sink deep into every heart.

"So let us make it round," the voice said lightly. "Let us make it one thousand."

People began to scream again, louder this time, voices breaking as panic spread like fire.

"Oh, do not misunderstand," the voice added. "I cannot choose for you. You will choose."

The walls seemed to lean inward slightly, the glowing blood reflecting terror back at the crowd.

"Make sure that only one thousand people remain alive. Feed others to the faces in the wall."

Trust shattered in an instant.

And Tyler realized, with chilling clarity, that this place was not meant to kill them directly.

It was meant to make them destroy each other.

"Don’t believe the demon’s words!" a voice shouted from above. "It’s trying to strengthen itself through sacrifice!"

The one who spoke was an elf adventurer with a bow, standing atop a nearby building. His posture was steady, his voice firm, and for a brief moment, his words cut through the spreading panic like a blade. Several people looked up at him, hope flickering in their eyes.

That hope lasted only a heartbeat.

The stone face carved into the wall beneath the elf suddenly shifted. Its lips stretched impossibly wide, cracking the masonry as they moved. The mouth slid upward along the building, opening directly beneath the elf’s feet.

He barely had time to gasp.

The stone gave way, and the elf vanished into the mouth.

A sickening sound followed.

Crunching. Grinding. Chewing.

The noises echoed through the town square, slow and deliberate, as if the wall itself were savoring the act. No one screamed. No one moved. The crowd stood frozen, forced to listen as the life was reduced to sound.

Then the mouth puckered.

"Thoo."

The elf’s bow and arrows were spat out violently, clattering across the stone and sliding to a stop near the edge of the crowd.

That was when the silence broke.

"Aaaah!" a dwarf girl screamed, her voice shrill with terror.

Chaos erupted instantly.

People began to shove and push, fear turning to desperation. The demon’s voice returned, layered and mocking, resonating from every wall at once.

"You see?" it said. "You strong ones help the weak, and they praise you. But the moment you stop helping—even if you do nothing at all—they will hate you. They will believe their suffering is your fault."

The blood-lit faces twisted into grins.

"Now witness the true and ugly faces of the weak."

Panic turned inward.

The weakest began attacking those beside them, clawing, screaming, dragging others toward the walls in blind desperation. Trust shattered. Families broke apart. One man lunged forward, kicking a woman hard in the stomach. As she collapsed, gasping in pain, he ripped the crying baby from her arms and hurled it toward the nearest open mouth.

An arrow whistled through the air.

It pierced the man’s skull cleanly, the force sending his body flying backward and straight into the stone mouth, which snapped shut around him.

Tyler was already moving.

He slid across the ground, caught the falling baby mid-air, and rolled to shield it. Without hesitation, he poured a healing potion into the woman’s mouth, steadying her as her breathing eased. He placed the baby back into her trembling arms.

Kaeya stood nearby, bow in hand, the same one spat out moments earlier. Her eyes were cold as she lowered it, scanning for the next threat.

Tyler nodded once at her, then turned back to the crowd.

Kaeya stepped forward and raised her voice, cutting through the chaos.

"All adventurers, with me!" she shouted. "Form a line, now! Shields in front, weapons ready. Do not let anyone get dragged toward the walls!"

Her command snapped the adventurers out of their hesitation. Steel rang as blades were drawn, bows were raised, and shields locked together. Those who had been frozen by fear moved instinctively, responding to the clear, decisive orders.

"Guards, protect the civilians!" Kaeya continued. "Pull the injured back. Anyone who panics gets restrained, not killed. We hold this ground!"

The remaining guards followed at once, stepping into position beside the adventurers. A solid defensive line formed between the crowd and the blood-lit walls, bodies braced shoulder to shoulder, weapons angled outward.

Behind them, the civilians were pushed inward, away from the stone faces. Crying children were shielded, the wounded were dragged to safety.

After a quarter of an hour, the screaming dulled into sobbing. The frenzy slowed.

Laughter echoed again.

"You may take all the time you want," the faces said mockingly. "I don’t mind at all. But I wonder... will you have enough food and water?"

The laughter faded, leaving only dread behind.

This was the beginning of despair.

At least, that was what the town and the hidden demon believed.