At one o’clock midnight, under a sky drowned in silence, while the citizens were asleep, the roar of police car engines shattered the stillness—pursuing a criminal on a motorcycle. The calm night turned into chaos, pierced by the thunder of gunfire.

My name is Olaf. I am a criminal who has killed one hundred children, violated as many women as I could, and stolen uncountable amounts of money. Will my end be nothing but capture? Impossible. I will die before that ever happens.

I fixed my gaze upon the road and saw a truck approaching from the opposite side. I steered toward it, raising my hand. The driver tried to stop, but it was already too late. The motorcycle was destroyed—and so was I. Yet I felt no regret for dying.

Time passed, and suddenly I found myself in a world of darkness. I could hear only the dripping of blood.

“Do you feel no regret for anything?” a voice echoed.

“What about every person who died because of you, or those who ended their lives because of your cruelty? Do you not regret?”

Suddenly, the drops of blood began to bubble, and my old memories unfolded—every single moment of my life flashing before me. And what if? No. I am not regretful. If I were to return to the world again, I would do even more.

“So, that is your answer…”

Suddenly, sight returned to me, though I felt weightless. I saw my own corpse lying before me, and realized I was nothing but a soul. Surrounding me were the families of every person I had wronged. I smirked.

Do they miss me? Hah… no. They do not miss me. They want me awake, for death is too simple a punishment. They want to torture me for as long as possible. Hahaha, fools—I am dead now. How can they punish me? Tell me, will they die with me?

“How much do you know of the Court of Heaven?”

“I know that the righteous enter Paradise, and the wicked descend to Hell.”

“Then you know enough. Let us begin. Name?”

“Olaf Michael Alexander. Thirty-eight years old. Abandoned by my parents as a child. My mother worked in taverns, my father was a trafficker and a killer. At fifteen, I joined a gang, smuggling drugs and known for its violence.”

“Enough.”

Later, I entered prison, where I met my father’s companions. They told me he had remarried and fathered a son after abandoning me.

“I said enough! Do you not hear me? If I am bound for Hell, then so be it. But if you continue your words, I will destroy you.”

Suddenly, a man appeared before me, holding a great book.

“Good. Then your first punishment: seven lashes with the Chains of Hell, for your very first crime.”

“I accept. Do your worst. You underestimate me? Then begin.”

A gate opened—black flames within, burning me though I stood light-years away. Three chains bound me, pain beyond description. A man stood behind me, wielding the chain. He struck. At the first lash, my body evaporated before I could scream. Only my soul remained, descending into the seventh layer of earth, screaming so loud that, had mankind heard it, their eardrums would have burst.

When I returned, I was chained again. This time, I saw the man advancing. Every step he took made me die of pain, for I remembered the first lash. I died and returned, died and returned. He struck a second time. Again, I evaporated, descended, returned—this time crying endlessly. Even if all those I had slain forgave me, this man showed no mercy. His lashes grew only stronger. I died and revived, over and over, until I whispered, “It is over. Seven lashes finished.”

The keeper of the book replied coldly, “No. Three remain.”

Upon hearing this, I tore at my wrists with my teeth to escape the chains. I bit into my legs as well. I succeeded—but my wounds healed instantly. I ran with all my strength. The chain-bearer lifted his chain and struck. Looking up, I saw I had moved not even a centimeter. The same repeated three times.

At last, the first punishment ended. I was like one whose bones were broken, whose senses had all vanished, waiting for death. But then, the keeper spoke:

“The second punishment. Open the Eighth Gate.”

That gate was monstrous. Even closed, its aura melted my flesh. As it opened, its sound alone expelled my soul from my body. I tried to flee—futile.

In that Hell I lived: when hunger came, I devoured molten rock; when thirst came, I drank bitter Zaqqum. Fire consumed me without end. Centuries upon centuries passed, like walking through infinite space. Finally, the keeper said: “Release him.”

When I emerged, I was like one who had lost speech. I cried soundlessly, trembling until near death. Standing before him, he declared:

“The third punishment.”

I could not answer—I died before he finished his words. He continued:

“If you were resurrected, you would commit sins again. Correct? Then we shall send you to another world, where you will suffer—and after that, you will be judged here again. Let us begin.”

He closed the book. I fainted.

I awoke to a breeze, standing in a meadow, a nine-year-old child. A vast plain stretched before me. I stood still, crying, breathing the air, touching the grass, confirming my body was whole. I found a lake, drank deeply, and sat for hours.

“Hey, Andrei!” A voice behind me. I turned and saw children my age.

“Where were you? Answer us, Andrei.”

“Who are you? And who am I?”

“You forgot your name again? Did you eat the temporary Forgetting Mushroom?”

“Andrei the fool, always getting us in trouble! If Grandma finds out, what will we do?”

“She won’t. Come, Andrei, listen. I’ll tell you some things about yourself. Pay attention.”

“Tell me.”

“Your name is Andrei Leon Mark, son of the hero Leon. You are ten years old. Your nanny is Olit. Today’s food is potatoes and meat.”

“Potatoes and meat… together?”

“Just remember. The master of this place is Albert, an aristocrat. Our names are Dave, Nash, Olo, and Charles. Soon your memory will return.”

“Alright. My name is Andrei.”

“Good. You remembered. Now let’s hurry, before the nanny grows angry. Mark, use Wind Magic—the wind is good today.”

“Wait—did you say Wind Magic? Are we playing?”

“Andrei, we’re not playing. We all possess magic.”

“Do you think me foolish to believe—woah! It worked, friends! Let’s ride!”

I watched Mark’s windcraft in awe. I tried to copy, but failed.

“Perhaps I did it wrong…”

“Ah, Dave, Olaf is trying again.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell him. Olaf, you haven’t shown your power yet.”

“Then I’ll wait until it appears.”

“No. If power does not appear in childhood, it never will.”

Everyone stared at me. I lowered my head in sorrow. Yet inside, I thought: Even without power, I will not return to that Hell. I will try to be a good boy in this life.

“Wait—I sense wind energy. Did you find him at last?”

“Yes, nanny Olit, we found him.”

“Thank God! I thought he was kidnapped. Here he is. Olaf, welcome back—you frightened me so much, little one.”

I gazed at her and thought: Who is this beauty? She is like an angel.

“Olaf, won’t you answer me?”

“How could I not answer the most beautiful nanny I have ever seen?”

“Stop, you embarrass me! Now, ready? I cooked your favorite—potatoes and meat.”

“Who eats such food, for God’s sake?”

“What? You begged for it for a whole month, and now you complain?”

“Who would ask for such a thing…”

“Oh, Olaf! Stop pressing my head!”

“You call this a gift? You brat, my gift is a slap across your face!”

My name is Olaf—or at least, that was once my name. I was tortured for centuries, and after all that suffering, I found myself embodied in a new form. My father and grandfather had both been heroes; how ironic, then, that I should become what I am.

I have now spent nearly three months in the orphanage. I got to know everyone there and even made some friends. All of them dream of becoming heroes one day. But me? I only dream of living a normal life like everyone else—or so I thought.

Every night, a voice echoes in my head, rambling in words I could not understand. Yet tonight it was clearer, though I still could not grasp its meaning. The sound carried a force so overwhelming that it felt like standing before a mighty power. The sensation filled me with indescribable dread.

I try to sleep, but whenever I close my eyes, I cannot. Sometimes I drift for a few minutes, only to wake again in terror. At last, Sister Oulit cast a spell on me so I would not see that nightmare again. For the first time, I slept without it haunting me.

When I awoke, my day began as usual: feeding the animals, tending the land, and resting with the other children. Of course, I always sat alone—I hate dealing with children. The breeze was so gentle, the kind that makes you never want to return indoors.

“Ulo! Stop right there! Don’t go near the bull!” someone shouted.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“André! Little Ulo is heading straight toward the bull!”

“Come quickly!” shouted Nash. “Lend me your coat!”

“Why?”

“Just give it to me!”

“Fine, here!”

But it was too late—the bull had already noticed Ulo and was preparing to charge.

We had to save him. “Sister, push me toward the bull, quickly! Please!”

“All right, André,” she replied.

The bull lowered its horns, aiming at the child. At the last moment, André leapt onto its back, tying a cloth around its eyes and pressing one horn down toward the dirt, forcing the beast off balance. Ulo escaped, but André was thrown in front of the bull’s massive horns.

Just as the bull prepared to strike, a bolt of lightning crashed down, stunning the beast and knocking it to the ground. It was the master of the house, Lord Albert, arriving in the final instant.

“That was close,” he muttered.

“André! Are you all right? Answer me!”

“I—I nearly died… I don’t want to die!”

“Then stop crying and stand up,” Albert ordered firmly.

Later, everyone gathered for the meal.

“Ah, rice and plenty of meat!” someone exclaimed.

“Yes,” said Sister Oulit. “Because today we have a hero among us—André.”

“Me? A hero?”

“Yes. If not for you, Ulo would have suffered a terrible fate.”

“It wasn’t such a big deal.”

“Don’t be so modest! You deserve praise. Even we, with our powers, could not have done what you did.”

“Yes, that’s true,” another agreed. “So take as much meat as you like—it’s your day!”

“And what about me?” asked Albert. “If not for me, you wouldn’t even be eating this delicious food.”

“You don’t need encouragement, master. This is your duty,” Sister Oulit teased.

“Then no thanks? Hmph. Well, I do have something to thank you with… some of your favorite cakes.”

“Cake? You know we don’t usually like baked sweets,” said one of the boys.

“Don’t worry, I baked some for you as well,” she smiled.

“Really? Hooray!”

“Give me one too, Sister,” I said.

“But Olaf, you never like them.”

“Maybe not, but today I feel like having one.”

“All right, since it’s your request, little hero.”

“Yes, I am the hero today,” I said with a grin.

The cake was delicious, though I could not finish it all. “I’ll save the rest for tomorrow,” I told her.

“Very well. I’ll keep it for you,” she replied warmly.

That night, lying in bed, I whispered to myself: What a wonderful feeling it is to be a hero.

“Don’t you agree, boy?” a voice suddenly said.

I froze. “That voice… It’s you again.”

“Humans never change. Even after everything you’ve seen, you are still the same.”

“You’re the voice that comes every night… but you sound more than just a voice.”

A sword appeared before me, wrapped in chains on every side. The aura it gave off was so overwhelming that I thought my very bones would leap out of my body and flee.

“Do you feel fear? That is only natural, human. Humanity always craves endless praise, always chased by arrogance until they fall.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean that even after all you’ve seen, you are still the same. Every emotion you carried in your previous life remains. Don’t you realize I know your past life?”

“How could you know?”

“Because I spoke to the former owner of this body. I told him that one day, his kindness would be overturned by evil strong enough to bear me. He thought I was speaking of his soul. But in truth, I meant the soul that would possess his body. And now, here you are. Welcome… to hell.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in horror.

“You’ll understand when the time comes to carry me.”

“Forget it. I intend to live this life without trouble. Carrying a sword? Are you joking?”

“Humans are greedy, but you… your greed is different. Yours is deeper, especially since you have seen hell with your own eyes.”

“Enough! I don’t want anything to ruin this life. I will never come to you, do you hear me?”

“Then why not wake up and save your family from the monster outside your farm right now, lazy boy? I am waiting.”

“What? A dream? What monster?”

“André! Wake up!”

I opened my eyes to hear the old man shouting. “Don’t worry—my shield will hold the beast. Take the children and escape quickly! Bring Michelle and the others!”

“Yes, Grandfather!” I cried.

The monster was enormous—its size unbelievable. I had to wake everyone.

“André, thank goodness you’re awake,” said Sister Oulit. “We must wake the children quickly and quietly. Move as fast as you can.”

“Yes!”

“Dief, Ulo, wake the others!”

“Has morning come?” one asked groggily.

“No, but we must leave immediately!” I urged.

“Why? What’s happened?”

“There’s a monster at the farm.”

“A monster?!”

“Quiet! Stop shouting! We must flee so that Lord Albert can deal with it!”

Once everyone was ready, we fled through the back gate.

Meanwhile, Albert lowered his shield and faced the creature. “Now, monster… I’m right here. Do you want me? Come and get me.”

The beast swung its massive fists. Albert dodged with lightning speed, striking with thunderous blows that forced the monster back. Gathering all his strength, he unleashed one final strike that made the creature explode.

Breathing heavily, Albert stood amid the smoke.

But then, through the haze, a figure appeared—smiling, clapping. “Well done, Lord Albert. You’ve defeated one of my pets.”

“Who are you?” Albert demanded.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is—who are you? Are you merely Albert, the caretaker of this miserable farm, or are you the guardian of that great secret entrusted to you by the king?”

In an instant, Albert lunged at him.

“Careful—you almost hit me! And look, dust on my clothes… how unpleasant,” the stranger mocked.

“Who sent you? How do you know about me?”

“I cannot answer. That is a secret.”

“Then I will make you talk!”

“You are fast indeed… but shouldn’t you be more concerned for those children? I believe they are walking straight into death.”

“What? No! Leave them! It is me you want, not them!”

“Ha! You don’t understand. My task is not only to kill you, Albert, but also everyone connected to you.”

“Damn you!”

As Albert tried to escape the tightening circle of battle, a skeletal hand seized him.

“Trying to run? How pitiful… would you abandon me so easily?”

---

Meanwhile, we children ran with Sister Oulit.

“Children, hurry!” she urged.

“Will Lord Albert be able to handle the monster?” one asked.

“Yes, don’t worry. He is strong and will never be defeated by such a beast. We must only reach the hut and wait until it’s over.”

We were close to safety—so close.

But in a single moment, amidst the silence, blood splattered across the grass. Sister Oulit’s head was severed before our eyes. And from the darkness, a monster stood upon her corpse.

O children, come on, we almost reached the hut quickly, and suddenly a monster appeared before us, and in his hand was sister Olit’s head, and her body on the ground, her blood covering the grass.

All the children panicked then, the monster that stood for seconds screamed a terrifying scream that reached Sir Albert.

“What, as if I heard a monster, where are the children?”

“Yes, I have made three monsters surround the place, and it seems the second monster found the children.”

“What?”

“Do not worry, it will not hurt them unless they move, isn’t that fair?”

“O you, to go to them—where do you think you are going?”

Suddenly a cage of bones came out and trapped Sir Albert.

“Your problem is not solved here, you go and leave me?”

At the children, they were moving from fear. Every time one of them was killed by the monster. The number of children was sixty. Among them were two with Andria, while the rest were older.

Andria did not move at all from fear, but not of the monster, rather from returning to that hell if he died.

The children were being killed one after another. Dave and Charles tried to attack the monster but it did not work. The monster attacked Charles and almost hit him, but Dave saved him. They both stood and tried to attack, but in a part of a second Dave was pierced in his body, and when the monster left him Charles screamed angrily and attacked.

Andria tried to stop him. Charles said: “Just protect the children and escape with whoever remains.”

Despite Charles’s sadness for those who died, he was sadder for Dave because he was his brother and the only one who knew, he and Sir Albert.

“How could you do this to him, how? Even I didn’t tell him. Damn you, monster!”

He attacked the monster, but his attack was different—it was faster, stronger. But how could someone who never learned to use his power defeat a monster stronger than him?

When Charles tried to attack, the monster struck him a blow that threw him against a rock unconscious and continued killing the children.

Every time I see the children die one after another, that voice appeared again:

“Look at this chick afraid, of what I wonder? Of the monster or the children? Poor one, I brought you the solution. Look well, that is the gate of hell, if you want power then enter it. What do you say? Come on, twenty children remain, the number decreases and time passes. What do you say? Will you enter, Andria? Just say yes. Or are you afraid of entering the gate? Hahaha, the children die before you and you are afraid, oh savior.

Andria, save me, Michael, save… Michael!”

“Andria, Julia too… what do I do, what do I do? No, no, I don’t want to enter or lose more.”

Andria’s breathing became heavy. The children moved and died while he was afraid and powerless.

“Just say yes, Andria, come on, fifteen remain, time passes—”

“I… I… owa—”

Suddenly, light appeared from his ruined dwelling, thunder rising to the sky, making the sky cloud and send storms and lightning everywhere. And suddenly, from nothing, the director Albert appeared, looking at Andria and the dead children and Dave and Charles. Then he spoke:

“I know you are afraid, and I know you have no power. But you are the eldest, and unfortunately, you did not do your duty even a little. Andria has changed, for the Andria I knew would put his life at stake for a stranger. But now, when I see that person with this cowardice, I say, unfortunately, that flame has gone. And now, step aside.”

Albert gathered all his strength and struck a blow that not only removed the monster but crushed a large part of the forest. And when it ended, the monster died, and the grandfather appeared, showing bones pierced into every organ of his body. When he fell to the ground, the children went to him crying, trying to save him.

But Andria was mocked by the voice, saying:

“In the end, you chose cowardice. You are worse than I thought.”

Then Andria screamed:

“I am not that person. I only transferred to his body. And that boy had no power, so what do you expect me to do? And I will never return to that place, that gate, ever!”

Then the voice smiled, its laugh terrifying, thirsty for blood, then calmed and said:

“Do you know what that powerless boy did when he was in his body before you possessed him? He saved an entire village from monsters that were going to invade the village. True, he had no power, but he had the mind. When the heroes were searching for them in a village 20 kilometers from here, those monsters were heading to this village. Then that man held an energy stone and put it in a bike made by his friend, and distracted the monsters and made them chase after him. The price of using that stone for someone without energy is bearing the pain in his heart, and he was ready to endure that pain all the way. He screamed from the pain, but endured with all he could. Near the village where the heroes were, the stone stopped and the monsters ran toward him. Then it was impossible to call the heroes or anyone to help. So he stood his ground, raised his arms despite all his pain, stood careless for his life, and said when the monsters eat him, they will not touch his village because it is now 19 kilometers away, nor the other village because the heroes are there. And when the monsters approached him, who was the hero? Yes, Sir Albert. He was the one heading to him with a dragon and saved him. And when he saw his state he said: ‘Boy, even the greatest heroes we know would never do what you did. So, owner of Andria’s body, who are you to be even that person? Tell me.’”

When Andria heard that, he said to himself:

“To release my old self? That’s impossible. Impossible for a mere boy to do that. Are you joking with me? If his heart was not destroyed, tell me who—”

He was about to die, but Albert killed his dragon and turned Andria’s old heart into that heart, saying:

“Your death means the word hero dies, because you are the bravest of us all. And if I must sacrifice my dearest friend, then I will, for he bowed asking for his head to be cut. Boy, know that a dragon has a great soul, and bowing to someone means he is greater than him. Know that.”

“What do you say, coward? Don’t joke with me—”

And suddenly, while Andria was lost in thought before Albert’s corpse and Olit’s, a monster suddenly appeared, and when it did, it attacked. But then it stopped, terrified—not of anything, but because it saw something more horrible than anything, hidden in human form. That was Andria. He had entered the gate, burning with tongues of flame. But how could tongues of flame be harsher than shame?

That monster tried to escape, but Andria chased him and killed him, and did not stop but beat him more until he stopped when he heard the children crying. Then he stood, took Albert’s body first and buried it, then sister Olit and buried her, and stood before them with the children.

On the other side stood the villain:

“That annoying old man, I got no information from him, and because of using that power I could not catch him to prove he died. No matter, I gained something more important: an interesting boy. I look forward to meeting him someday.”

When the news of Albert’s death reached the kingdom, they sent some heroes to see if anyone was alive or not. They found fourteen children and Charles and Andria, while Albert and Olit were dead.