text: Light shone from the top of the obsidian peak — the Hall of Virtue. "We have to climb that?" Cynthia asked, the afterglow of her orgasm slowly fading. After defeating the Lemures on this side of the River Phlegethon, Cynthia had needed her powers refilled.
  
  Bill had been more than happy to lose himself in the ecstasy of her flesh, and Cynthia, if she was being honest, was more than happy to let him.
  
  "The climb is not the issue," Adriel answered. "There are stairs. The issue is what waits at the top."
  
  "Cerberus?"
  
  "Yes. Mephistopheles's bitch."
  
  Cynthia swallowed. Daevia had worked for Mephistopheles, and had degraded her on the Archdemon's orders. Hot, righteous anger built inside her and, to her utter amazement, she realized that she was eager to fight the three-headed beast. Cerberus wasn't Daevia, but she could serve until Cynthia could get her hands on the harridan who had thrown her into Hell.
  
  "What is it?" Bill whispered, his comforting hand resting on her shoulder.
  
  "Daevia," she hissed, putting all the venom should could into it.
  
  His hand tightened on her shoulder. "We'll make sure she pays."
  
  How could I be so lucky to meet a man that would burn so passionately for me?
  
  "We should start our climb before Dagon gets across the River Phlegethon."
  
  "How?" Bill asked. "Can he fly?"
  
  "Hell isn't... laid out strictly in the way you are used to. Things are looser. There are other ways to travel, more dangerous ways, that can bypass the River Phlegethon and reach here. He has to know this is our destination by now."
  
  "Then let's go! I'm ready to get out of Hell."
  
  Cynthia nodded as the ground rumbled beneath their feet. "Where's the stairs, Adriel?"
  
  "They are hard to spot," the Fallen Angel answered, peering about. "It is cut directly into the stone and —"
  
  "Is that it?" Bill asked, pointing at a crease, barely distinguishable from the rocks, that seemed to zig-zag up the nearly vertical side of the peak.
  
  Adriel nodded. "The Stairs of Hope."
  
  The stairs were so steep they were practically a ladder. Adriel went first, easily scampering up them. Bill followed, holding his silver blade in one hand and climbing with the other. Cynthia followed. The view was... interesting. She never realized it, but Bill had a cute butt. She used her hands to pull herself up as she climbed the steps. It was surprisingly easy. Her muscles never started burning, and she didn't feel the least bit winded by the time they reached the first zag.
  
  "I don't think I could have done this," Bill said, "without the strange He —"
  
  "Don't say the H word on here!" Cynthia gasped. "The ground always shakes."
  
  "Er, yeah," Bill laughed. "That'd be bad. So, I couldn't do this without the weird Heck physics."
  
  "Yeah," Cynthia admitted. Thanks to her Lacrosse playing, she was in great shape, but Bill wasn't. He wasn't overweight or anything, but he could stand to get some cardio. Maybe I can get him to go jogging in the morning. Once this is all over.
  
  She had to keep believing they'd escape Hell, or what was the point in even trying?
  
  As she climbed, her thoughts wondered to the last two times she had conjured the illusion of Sophia. Both times, she was sure she had heard the Angel's actual voice ringing in her head. She didn't have a lot of experience with her powers, but it seemed like there was something inside the illusion fighting her control.
  
  Could it have been Sophia?
  
  When they had stepped off her flying carpet after crossing the River Phlegethon, and the Lemures had attacked, there was a few moments where the Illusion didn't quite seem under her control, and she had clearly heard Sophia's voice. But her words had died in mid-sentence, and the strange sensation in her illusion had vanished.
  
  Was it just my imagination? We haven't slept the entire time we've been down here. It must have been days of traveling. Maybe we don't need sleep the same way we don't need to eat yet. But not sleeping can't be good for our minds. I'm surprised we're not hallucinating or anything.
  
  Cynthia promised herself to pay close attention the next time she conjured Sophia's illusion.
  
  The higher they climbed, the brighter the light above shown, urging them to keep going. When they were half way up, Bill started breathing heavily, sweat gleaming on his body. They had been climbing for hours, but the time in the real world was probably only a few minutes, but Bill's endurance was waning.
  
  "You can do it," she told him.
  
  "Yeah," he panted. "And we still got to fight at the top."
  
  "Do we need to take a break?"
  
  "No." Then he chuckled. "Besides, we might have to wait a few hours. I bet we take as long to recover energy as we do to expended it."
  
  "Ugh, that gives me a headache," Cynthia groaned.
  
  "It's like an Escher painting. It seems simple until you really stare at it, and then your brain hurts as it tries to comprehend the impossibility of it."
  
  "Yeah," she grumbled. "How much more do we have to go?"
  
  "We're two-thirds there, I think," he answered.
  
  "Well, take it one at a time. I believe in you, Bill."
  
  "Thanks."
  
  "So, Adriel," Cynthia called up. "How are we going to fight Cerberus?"
  
  "Carefully," she answered.
  
  "Would you like to elaborate, or did you just want to throw us in the deep end like with crossing the River Phlegethon?" Cynthia didn't bother to hide her anger with the Fallen Angel.
  
  "She is quick and agile, and her senses are very keen. But she is not used to pain. Those that climb the stairs and attempt to enter the Hall of Virtue are merely damned humans. Lemures and Demons avoid the place."
  
  "So what's the point of guarding a place that lets the good people out of Hell?" Bill asked. "Why would Heaven do that?"
  
  "The Angels didn't guard it," Adriel answered. "Mephistopheles does."
  
  "Why?"
  
  "We are in his fiefdom. And he wants to keep his subjects in Hell."
  
  "Make sense," Bill muttered. "So how are we supposed to hurt Cerberus?"
  
  "Your sword, my flail, Cynthia's illusions. We'll need to be quick, darting in, attacking and then getting clear. Cynthia should use her illusion to keep it distracted while keeping her distance. We harry the beast, inflicting every small wound we can until it collapses."
  
  "How big is it?" Cynthia asked.
  
  "A lion. A rather large one."
  
  "Great," she muttered, picturing a three-headed lion charging them, bellowing three terrifying roars.
  
  "We should stop talking. Unless you wish to have Cerberus waiting."
  
  "Right, shutting up," she answered.
  
  They kept climbing in silence, the top of the mountain and its silver glow creeping nearer and nearer. Her breath began to quicken, and the muscles in her legs and arms slowly begin to burn from the strain. She leaned out, looking past Bill and the Fallen Angel. The ledge was only twenty steps beyond Adriel.
  
  She formed the image of Sophia in her mind, ready to weave the light and fight a three-headed dog. Ten steps away. Five steps away. Adriel's flail of ice swirled into existence in her hand, gleaming blue and frost in the searing heat. Three steps. Two steps.
  
  One step.
  
  Adriel ran to the right the moment she was at the top. Bill summited, his sword blazing with silver light, and he ran to the left. Cynthia hauled herself up and instantly wove Sophia into existence.
  
  A dog bayed. Then a second, and a third, howling with an angry ferocity.