Fifth Circle. Protest. Styx – the river of Wrath

I ran without looking back, so that the shadow rabbit had no chance to catch up with me. I saw a crowd ahead, so I slowed down and disappeared among them. They wandered idly and filmed something on their phones. I turned my head to the right and stopped. I was a little surprised by the beauty of the building around which everyone crowded. It was very red with a lot of fractal elements. Apparently, in reality, this building already had an intricate look to look like this here. And for sure, I immediately remembered that next to the hunting row is a red building - the State Historical Museum. At the same time, the modest and monumental beauty of the building captivated me for a while, but I quickly came to my senses and moved on. This means that even more famous and great views awaited me.

And so, it was. From a distance, red and frightening buildings were already visible. Why frightening? On one square there is a building of human power (the Kremlin), divine power (Temple) and a cemetery of one person (Mausoleum). A very specific combination. At the same time, there was a certain greatness and disgust for all this. The high bloody walls of the Kremlin, like the walls of the city of Hades, clearly hid something from the shadows from the square. I moved on and, passing by the Mausoleum, in the depths hoping that I would not see Lenin's shadow, otherwise it greatly distracted me.

"What should I do now?"

I had already passed the Kremlin tower with for hours, a bloody inverted star flaunted on top of it. And on the left was the Cathedral of St. Basil the Blessed. His architecture in Hell was also very captivating. Such a concentrated variety of beautiful geometric shapes could not fail to delight. Inverted crosses on its shiny domes pointed upward to a red sky covered with dense clouds. Around, as always, there was a crowd of people, or rather shadows. Although I more or less understood what was happening to me, the reason was unclear. There were still many problems, and even more questions. I decided not to linger and go down to the river. I needed peace to find a way out of this situation.

Ahead was a bridge, and below it was the Moskva River. More precisely, it was Styx. Climbing the bridge, I looked down and you could see how the river boils and rages like lava. Among the bursting bubbles, sinners could be seen trying to swim out. I remembered that I supposedly had to get out of Hell and at the same time help the shadow rabbit with this. I was still wondering if she really participated in this and what did she want to achieve? Everything indicated that I had been poisoned with something strange. But it didn’t sound like someone’s sadism or perverse entertainment. Of the substances known to me, very little is capable of such. But then it must have a duration, unless it works somehow differently or I don't really die sooner. Waiting can both help and harm. I didn't want to go to the hospital again, remembering the previous attempt and the possible consequences. It so happened that in our country people do not really trust each other. Everyone copes with their difficulties on their own. It may sound strange given our heritage, but it was reality, and it was not a consequence of the Infernal transformation. It was necessary to distract myself from negative thoughts, so I stopped in the middle of the bridge and began to inspect the city, Styx and everything else.

But my brain didn't want to give up and keep looking for answers. So, I pulled out my phone - the best way to temporarily shut off my brain, if not permanently. And he put on headphones so as not to hear sounds around and tune in. Have not been discharged yet, that's good. I seemed to have gotten used to the visual distortion, but the phone was not used much, so it took longer than usual. In the news, I again came across information about the man who got out of Hell and for some reason returned to him. I became curious why Provalny came back and what he was trying to achieve.

And I plunged headlong into this story. I had no idea that it would interest me so much. I studied news after news, video after video from all different sources. I got into the problem so deeply that I made discovery after discovery every couple of minutes. But there was a persistent feeling that I had known this for a long time, but either forgot or ran away from it.

It didn't seem to me; I had already met this person before going to Hell. He was engaged in politics in modern ways, that is, via the Internet. But in big politics he could not understand, now it became clear why this was exactly what happened. The failed one with his team was investigating corruption among the highest government officials. Those, of course, did not like it, and they planned a whole operation to eliminate Provalny. They tried to poison him with prohibited chemical weapons, but the attempt failed. By some miracle and with the help of ordinary citizens, he was saved. Trying to heal him in a country that was trying to kill him was obviously stupid. Therefore, Right's team transported him to another country. In this (Hellish) context, it sounded like Provalny went ... to Heaven.

Heaven.

Didn't expect to hear such a word in Hell. As a result, Provalny survived, but still returned to Hell to continue his work - to open people's eyes to the truth happening around them. Hundreds and thousands of people were enriched at the expense of the millions of people they were supposed to serve. This was the final thought. But the path to her was very painful. Reading the news, it was as if I was living it. Here and there the officials acted in a similar way. They received budget money and appropriated it to themselves according to various schemes. Expensive houses, cars, clothes, food and everything, everything that the soul can only desire! Material, of course. At the same time, this money should be used to build roads, schools, hospitals and increase the welfare of the country's residents. And this has been done for decades. Why didn't it become known earlier? The Internet was not so widespread, and the TV was completely controlled by the authorities, that is, it was engaged in its propaganda. Moreover, she often directly violated the constitution - the main law of the country. And what about the protector and guarantor of the constitution, that is, the president? And he was at the center of her story. Murderer, thief, liar and the main instigator. I could no longer reflect on this, as I was filled with anger.

It seemed that I had been in the world of information for many hours, but it was not. Perhaps one of the effects of my changes was faster processing of information. I also realized that it all started yesterday morning. When we left the club, most likely something happened that I did not notice. Or the shadow rabbit tried to do it. I felt great tiredness from everything that had happened, but it did not seem to bother me and I had more than enough strength. I thought about the time, because one of the news items contained information that just today a protest is taking place in defense of Provalny with a demand to release him. Ironically, this happened nearby: on the island behind the bridge, on the Bolotnaya embankment. I thought about joining those people. Would it be a good decision under my circumstances? Reason says that it is dangerous in principle, and even more so in my state. And the soul pulls there. Since childhood, I could not close my eyes to injustice, and therefore ...

"Ah!"

I suddenly felt someone's touch on my shoulder and was so scared that I dropped my phone from my hands right into river!

"No!!!"

Trying to save him was pointless. From the growing anger, I quickly turned around and was about to swear at the culprit, but slowed down. Since there were three of them, they are still armed and more than me. They looked like those hounds that had dragged me out of the hospital and left me outside the temple. Only their shape was different, the inscription "HellGuardians" flaunted on the sleeve. I quickly realized who they are in reality. I didn't know how to proceed.

"Your documents, please."

"Why did you throw the phone away? Was there something forbidden on it?"

"Squealing like a girl. What did you get your eyes out of?"

As always, they themselves forget to introduce themselves to begin with. Not only is this their direct responsibility, it is also an elementary part of upbringing. And it was hardly an illusion.

"What's stuck? Show your documents!"

"Maybe he is one of "these"?"

"Yes, for sure! You are one of the protesters?"

Probably anger made me think longer.

"I was just standing on the bridge and using the phone. You scared me a lot, which caused me to drop it. How will you repay my damage?" You didn't even introduce yourself! "

It was clear in advance that they would not help with my problem, which was just their fault. And contacting some other law enforcement agencies was deliberately pointless, since they are bound by mutual responsibility. One big criminal gang. It took time to come up with something.

“Hey, who do you think you are? If you don’t show your documents, you’ll follow us to the ward.”

“He’s totally fucked up! Get him straight to the paddy wagon.”

“I agree.”

They pounced on me, trying to immobilize me. I tried to escape, but nothing worked.

"Let go, what do you want from me? I'll show you the documents if you want!"

I didn't want to do this, not only because these creatures I was disgusted, as well as what they do. The reason was that the documents looked very bad after being soaked in the river. And that would definitely be a reason for them to do something.

"It's too late to rock the boat, you can tell everything in the department."

And then there were several blows with a truncheon.

"Don't resist, it will be worse!"

Anger overwhelmed me. I was already ready to even transform my hand and respond to their violence. But the hand did not obey.

"Okay, you're done."

Two were holding me so the third could grab my legs. They were going to carry me away. There was no choice, with two feet I pushed the third so hard that even those two could not resist and retreated back, resting on the edge of the bridge. I jumped off the ground and twisted my body towards the river. My hands swirled in their grip and slipped out. I tried to group, but did not have time and fell flat into the river.

"To survive in Hell, you have to constantly fall lower and lower. Yes?"

I slowly went to the bottom, coming to my senses. I just wanted to let myself drown, as it seemed too painful and hopeless to return to the cruel reality, seasoned with Hell. Why was I going back? Then I remembered my anger and its source, it gave me strength. Although it was hard to swim in boiling water through souls, anger heated my body to about the same temperature. And how have I not evaporated yet?

Those three were running across the bridge, and they weren't going to stop. I went out on the shore of the island and went to the sounds of the noise of the crowd in order to hide in it and at the same time learn more about the protest. As I walked and spanked my wet sneakers on the ground, I realized that I still needed to dry out and went to the nearest fast-food restaurant. Where else was there to look for dryers? When I left the restaurant, I did not see my pursuers anywhere, so I continued walking towards the noise. Despite the fact that I could clearly hear him, it was clear that there was a long way to go. This means that such a noise could only have been created by a gathering of thousands of people. Shadows. Further, it was already possible not to be guided by the noise, since many shadows were already directed in the same direction. In their hands were posters with slogans and demands.

So, we approached the crowd, but there was no end in sight. It was difficult to get on, there were too many people. I have never seen so much live, although I do not see, now for me they are all - shadows, souls, sinners, dead. I wandered among the shadows in search of. But what was I looking for? A way out of Hell? Or a way out of Hell? Why was I suddenly preoccupied with the second when I hadn't figured out the first? It must have been related. In any case, I couldn't take it anymore. I finally realized that I was always running from this area of ​​life and hiding it in myself. Or the circumstances turned out that way and I lost my mind. I was not going to retreat from mine.

I think in reality I would have been warmed and supported by so many like-minded people that they came to protest. But in the hellish version, it somehow even lowered the morale. And yet the general mood was felt.

"Freedom to the Failed!"

"The law is the same for everyone!"

"The guarantor is a defendant in the criminal case."

"Welcome in the Middle Ages! We also have our own Tsar. "

"I demand the release of the Failed! "

"Cancel the pension reform. You steal our lives! "

"Fools and roads are forever?"

"The kings used to have golden thrones and sceptres of power, but now they have toilets and toilet brushes."

"Fear God! Return the stolen goods!"

"We are not your slaves! And you are not our kings."

"Golden hands, but things are not golden."

"Freedom to A. Failed!"

"All together!"

"Freedom, freedom."

There was so much pain, so much feeling and sincerity in these slogans that I perceived them practically without distortion.

"Three heads - one crown!"

Except this. It was too symbolic. In our coat of arms, the eagle has two heads, but Satan had three. And in this context, it was much truer. In order for the government to perform its function correctly and honestly, it was divided into three components: legislative, judicial and executive. By design, they should be independent from each other. But as practice has shown, it does not work for us. Everything is in one hand. Gold and blood.

"Hunger and poverty are our modern heritage."

"Why should our children burn in Hell when yours are chilling in Paradise!?

" Don't rock the boat - our rat is sick."

The last poster attracted special attention. It showed a dog rat with three heads, and it was vomiting in a sea of ​​souls. A sea of ​​souls - that is, the backs of shadows - and carried the burden of the boat and its passengers other shadows also appreciated this creativity and crowded around the creator. He looked familiar. Perhaps it was some kind of writer? Usually, they are expressed in such a symbolic way. I immediately remembered the words mistakenly attributed to Solzhenitsyn.

"Wake me up in a hundred years and ask what is happening in the country now. I will answer that they drink and steal. "

This is pain transmitted through decades and even centuries. My anger grew, but I did not understand how I could hold so much in myself, and anger accumulated and accumulated. I am already on the same wavelength with the people of the shadows. I could no longer even read their slogans; everything was already clear. This state was even deeper, as if I was gradually penetrating their thoughts or common consciousness. We all wanted the same thing: to leave Hell.

"Down with Satan! Into the cauldron of devils! Freedom for our souls!"

"The Guardians are the hounds of the system! They will gnaw at a bowl of food."

"There is a way out if we are all together!"

What has not been banned in our country is to use an exclamation mark, but it has already been questioned. I made my way farther and farther through the shadows, every minute it became more and more difficult, as the shadows became more and more, and for some reason they moved slower. The chanting of slogans and support for the protest did not stop. All unanimously demanded the release of Provalny, imprisoned for hellish political reasons, and not for real sins. I was unanimous with them in the opinion that this is so, being a resident of this country, this hell and having all-round information that I could get.

I had to stop, as the flow of the crowd further was too dense and generally stopped in place. Thanks to my tall stature, I still managed to see what was happening ahead. Our peaceful march was blocked by the hounds. They were armed with bats and clubs, shields and helmets, from under which hung hungry muzzles protruded. Their skin was protected by armor. And on the sleeve was the already familiar inscription "HellGuardians". The obedient dogs were hardly lined up, shields out, as in the battle of the Spartans against the Persians. The similarities were added by the fact that the street was rather narrow, there were houses-rocks on the sides. But the shadows were unarmed, and apart from slogans and hands they had nothing. Rarely did anyone even have the means of self-defense, because they are useless in such a situation, if they do not harm more with provocation.

In real life, the job of these dogs would be to protect and escort peaceful protesters. In Hell, they performed an absolutely opposite function: they beat and blocked the way. Some protesting shadows approached the cordon with a request to clear the way, to which the dogs only barked indistinctly and waved bats, often touching the shadows.Some were seized and taken away somewhere. It was clear where, and the shadows themselves helped to make sure of this. Their communication was not limited to their presence here, it was evident that many continued to use the telephone. Where they corresponded in messengers to receive fresh information about the protest, movements and other events. I spied on a couple of such messages, many of the shadows have already been captured and sent to prisons and torture centers. It was hard for me to separate reality and hell, but it was unlikely that they were very different from each other.

Judging by the discontent of both sides, this standing skirmish had already lasted long enough, and the situation was only heating up. The shadows continued to press, just pushing the dogs, and they responded with blows of bats and clubs. One of the protesters did not like this treatment and threw an empty bottle at his abuser. After that, the shadow received several more powerful blows from several dogs at once, and then a terrible thing happened, which made everyone froze in horror for a couple of moments.

The dogs became violent and rushed to that shadow, pushing everyone around. Immediately, four dogs, transformed, filled up the shadow and began to beat them with bats, clubs, paws. When they calmed down a little, they leaned over to the fallen shadow and began to gnaw at it. This wave of anger was picked up by other HellGuardians, who immediately rushed to the protesters. Those, in turn, could only run in panic, to escape. Without weapons, they could neither defend themselves nor respond to the attack. Just like that, peaceful and legal demands were suppressed by the crime. The shadows threw posters at them - the only thing close at hand.Why didn't they throw stones, fences, or something more serious? They were afraid of even worse consequences than being torn to pieces by dogs. Behind them stood the most important dog of Hell - Satan, in which all Hell was in possession, and the range of punishments, opportunities and time are almost endless.

The shadows ran back in terror, and I with them. I also didn’t want to be eaten by dogs, even though I didn’t know what exactly was happening in reality at that moment. But an approximate connection was traced. Fear temporarily prevailed over me, but the anger did not go anywhere, it was looking for a goal and a way to extract it. There was a turn ahead, but the shadows did not turn there, and as I approached, it became clear why. From there, the dogs also drove the shadows, beating and grabbing them. Someone tried to resist, fight back or protect someone, pull out. For some, such solidarity and confidence helped, but mostly they were also beaten and grabbed.

When we ran out into a more open space, everyone scattered in all directions. The dogs tried to catch everyone, so they also split up. I continued to run forward, returning to the bridge from which I fell. From the embankment it was better to see what was happening. On the other side and on the island the same picture was visible. I didn't even think that the protest would be so extensive: thousands and thousands of souls. I felt tiny and useless looking at so many fleeing people. Nothing has turned out to change one iota of tens of thousands of people who are not yet in the same state as I am. Then what could I have done?

I was not on the front lines, so I had a better chance of escaping. It was painful to look at the beating and humiliation of the innocent shadows and at their inaction and powerlessness, which is why anger towards them and myself only grew. My heart seemed to explode before I could release my anger. There was a square ahead, I decided to temporarily hide there to think about my further actions.

It was surprisingly quiet and calm, unlike other places on the island, where, if not the destruction of the shadows, then the hunt for them took place. I slowed down to catch my breath.

"What even crazier story have I gotten myself into? I haven’t figured out my head yet, but here it’s quite tough. Hmm?"

Almost at the very entrance to the square, I came across an entertaining sculptural composition. I have not been to Moscow that often, since I spent most of my time at the university or at home, so a lot was the first time for me, especially now. But the composition was really interesting, and it captivated me so much that I temporarily forgot about everything else.Including the fact that I'm in Hell. Probably because it happened that the sculptural composition seemed to combine reality and Hell.

This work reminded me of Bosch, but how good that it was not Bosch! Otherwise it would be a combination of Hell and Hell. The composition was called "Children - Victims of Adult Vices" by Mikhail Shemyakin. She was surrounded by chains, but they did not stop me, I stepped over them. Further on the steps was a warning sign. The general message of which was that people did not bully. But if there were such cases, then I think those people wanted to express something too. Perhaps I will soon figure out what it is. I climbed the steps to the plinth to the children. At their feet lay a ball, books with Russian fairy tales by Alexander Pushkin, and their eyes were blindfolded. The children seemed to be wandering in the dark with their hands outstretched. Thirteen vices surrounded them with a crescent. I went clockwise to examine them.

Addiction. Bald man with a syringe in his hand and broken wings. Our country is one of the largest drug users in the world. And the criminal article on drug addiction is considered popular. Some kind of support for people with such addiction or a government program to combat this evil has not appeared in 20 years that the sculpture is worth. On the contrary, there was a lot of news about planting drugs on ordinary people for the purpose of promotion, because the law enforcement system itself is so arranged. Moreover, the version dominates on the Internet that it is the state itself that is behind the distribution of prohibited substances in the first place. Just what is the news about the Russian embassy in Argentina.

Prostitution. Woman with the head of a frog.The first association was our constitution. She was turned into a prostitute by her guarantor - the president and his gang. On the stumps, nullifying everything that is written in it, and adding it in your own way. The second association is poor women who are forced to take this step for various reasons. Whether it is poverty (another of the vices), the sin of greed, or a simple desire for an easy life, which may be the result of another vice - ignorance.

Theft. A man with a boar's head carrying away a bag of money. The key and most self-deprecating vice for the country. After the collapse of the USSR, greedy entrepreneurs privatized everything they could. As a result, the main privatizers were the oligarchs, who now rule the whole country. The people - the crumbling and exploding houses, and the officials - the palaces. New Middle Ages. And those who expose this are imprisoned or even killed.

Alcoholism. Caricature of Bacchus holding a cup. Second after the theft, self-irony does not subside. Here we are even more leaders in consumption, because alcohol helps to forget the horror that is happening around, and bring it closer to the end. But not what I would like. What has the government done besides raising excise taxes on alcohol? Nothing, just continued to weld on the tragedies of people.

Ignorance. Anthropomorphic donkey with a rattle in his hands. Associated with poor education. Teachers' salaries are at the poverty level and do not even come close to the no less beggar official indicators. Schools are often in disrepair, and parts of it collapse. The teachers themselves, nevertheless, are desperately trying to give knowledge to children, but they have control over them, which has a bad effect on the process. A mind-numbing single exam that has little to do with real education. A repressive law on educational activities, which only serves to control the dissemination of information and freedom of speech, which in fact does not exist in the country. Creation of new history textbooks, the creation of which is followed not by scientists or other related specialists, but only by law enforcement agencies and other controlled departments. Total control and stupefaction, as the herd is easier for a fool to manage.

False scholarship. Caricature of Themis with a helmet over his eyes, with an alchemical scroll in one hand and a puppet in the other. This is the president himself with his symbols of power. Instead of a power, he has an alchemical scroll in his hand - these are anti-popular and anti-constitutional laws, often so stupid that it becomes funny, but sad. Due to this, his power is exercised. And the two-headed puppet is the same our two-headed eagle, the coat of arms of our country. For him, this is not a sacred symbol, but a tool for his crimes. This is all the government designed to contain him, not completely obey him. Such a great country is already far behind in the development of science and the advancement of its truths, instead of which lies are now in the first place.

Indifference.In the center stands a multi-armed figure, covering his eyes and ears, her body like a coffin. Complete disregard of the people for whom the ruler serves, and complete withdrawal from reality into your own fairytale world with a luxurious and carefree life.

Propaganda of violence. An arms dealer with a mask with a long nose and a high top hat. Most of the information on the news channels is related to violence. At the same time, the age limit was not introduced immediately and is not particularly observed. And television programs or serials are also almost always associated with violence in one way or another. The largest number of TV series tells about brave police officers and criminals, and in the most vile forms, not heroic ones. The propaganda of the military, and this is always associated with violence, thinking begins with school in various circles devoted to this topic. Where people are often forced to walk. And this continues throughout life. An expensive victory parade takes place every year. The holiday itself is good, but the spending on it and the general message is not.

Sadism. A fat man in a cassock with the head of a rhinoceros, spreading his arms as if in front of him was a slave. I don't know if they take pleasure in stealing and killing, but it doesn't matter. But those who torture people in prisons or even those who have not made it to prison are definitely sadists. Like the whole "correctional" system.

For the forgetful. A post on which a block is located with holes for fixing the head and hands in them. Usually this was used for execution by chopping off the head or exposing a person to the public for the purpose of humiliation. The government has already forgotten that it promised the same thing for 20 years, but things are still there.Not to mention the crimes committed during this time. Just one question: did they deserve execution or public humiliation?

Exploitation of child labor. A figure of a factory owner with a bird's head pointing to the entrance to the factory. Not to compare with China, but not far gone. Children are used in government propaganda, clean-ups and other activities, often forcibly. Here it is called voluntary-compulsory.

Poverty. An old woman begging for alms. A logical continuation of the vice of theft. Having taken the country and its resources into their hands, the people have practically nothing left. The hardest thing was for the elderly, who find it difficult to change or do something in their age. And they continue to make life difficult for them, extending the retirement age and paying beggarly pensions, which cannot be used to buy good food, medicines and other minimal services, not to mention travel. Many eat late or generally rummage through the trash heaps. The rest die in silence, without moving once again. They are afraid that it will be even worse. And they pass this experience on to their children and grandchildren. There really are victims.

War. A knight in armor, with wings and a gas mask, holds a bomb in his hands. Our country has literally stolen part of the neighboring fraternal state. Not only do we have a common history and roots, but doing this in the 21st century is simply outrageous. As a result, military operations continue in other regions of this country, while continuing to lie to the whole world. Unjustifiably large expenditures on military development, and at the same time, soldiers serve as cleaners of their own units for a meager pay, without receiving proper training. This happens forcibly and sometimes in decommissioned buildings. And if in new ones - there is a risk of collapse. The fish rots from the head.

The sculptural composition was supposed to make us think about the fight against these vices, from which we ourselves suffer, and children, that is, future adults, even more. And who has not thought about them and about the fight against them at least once? So the government decided, thought again at last and decided to completely give in to vice.The whole sculpture is a taphole. Another lie.

I walked a little longer and stood in front of the children again to see the whole picture. Why did it bother me so much, especially now? Probably because since childhood I had a heightened sense of justice. It sounded, maybe, somehow trite and heroic, but it's just that. Doing justice makes me happy and soothes. But even as a child, I realized that I could not cope with world or similar injustice alone. Although I lived with this principle, I had to close my eyes from powerlessness to some things. But I did it only so that I could live on, because only in the future I could have the opportunity to change all this.

"Ah..."

The children seemed to move, like the rest of the sculptures... I had a strong sense of déjà vu. Vices quickly approached the children, one child gave another something round and everything collapsed. It seemed to me very important for some reason, despite the fact that I do not remember this happening or related to it. Therefore, I continued the previous thought. What could I do if I could at least transform my arms? Increase the amount of violence and nothing more? To get a job where it is useful is the only good thing, nothing more. Although no, they would have immediately grabbed me and began to study. Something familiar again.

A loud whistle sounded far from the side, and a couple of seconds later an explosion occurred next to me. I was lying on the ground and was disoriented: my eyes rippled with distortion, my ears were ringing. But I came to my senses surprisingly quickly, and after...

"Aaa !!! Waaa! Damn!"

My whole body was wounded by shrapnel and screamed in pain.I quickly assessed the situation, there seemed to be no critical damage. Looking ahead, I noticed that little was left of the sculptural composition. Everything was destroyed and scattered in disorder. Children suffered the most; a ball survived next to their recumbent figures. Then I realized that this whistle reminded me of the sound of a cannonball being launched. I turned my head in the direction from which I heard him. From there, new volleys were already heard, I covered my head, continuing to look with my eyes.

When the smoke cleared, I saw a ship on the river that looked like a modern destroyer, desecrated by Hell. But the weapon on it was not very modern, and the strangest one was a giant, located on the ship, like on an ordinary boat. He had an oar in his hands, with which he propelled the ship, as it seemed. There were horns on his head, and instead of eyes, hollows gaping with red fire.

"This is Phlegius!?"

This is certainly a worthy son of the god of war Ares. I looked around - the cannonballs flew at the protesters, but sometimes they hit the HellGuardians too. It was just a massacre, from the sight of which I could not resist and felt the tears flow themselves. The patience was overflowing. Darkness began to obscure my vision. Just like when, after escaping from the club, the dogs grabbed Lilia. I told Lily why? Darkness.

Anger is truly blinding, be it Phlegius or I am an ordinary person. When anger completely took over me, I practically stopped seeing, feeling, thinking. As if fell asleep or ceased to exist. But I managed to get some pieces of information, and now I remember everything.

At first there was a scream. And then teeth gnashing. It was felt that from such a cry it would break the cheeks, and from the grinding, it would break its teeth. The scream is so powerful that it was thought that I awakened not only myself, but all Hell. And the gnashing of such strong pressure that I was ready to gnaw the offender even without teeth, and without a jaw at all! My whole body was changing a lot, becoming like a beast. I gripped the ground with my feet and hands, clearly seeing the target in front of me. With a powerful dash, I rushed forward. Phlegias noticed my anger and redirected most of the guns at me.I ran along the embankment, dodging with quick movements from the shells exploding nearby. At the same time, I did not take my eyes off Phlegius, but he from me. Realizing that he would not achieve anything with shells, he swung his huge oar. When it appeared from the water, it became clear that the oar was a spear. Phlegius abruptly lowered him and struck the embankment in front of me so hard that the earth cracked and rose. I pushed off the edge of the raised ground and jumped over the spear and continued to run. Perhaps because of the dust raised, Phlegius did not see me, but intensified the shots. My hearing sharpened so much along with the processing of the trajectory of movement only on the basis of sound that I was able to dodge without seeing the projectiles.

I ran onto the bridge and ran along its edge, Phlegius noticed and immediately swung his spear, I jumped, dodging , landed and continued running. Then he made a quick dash, pushed off the bridge and jumped towards Phlegius's head. At this moment, the ship was approaching the bridge. Phlegius did not have time to do something, then I smashed his skull with a powerful blow of my fist. It cracked, there was emptiness inside, and fire burst out of it, which completely engulfed me.

I found myself on a pedestal next to the sculptures of children, they were all right, apart from the Infernal distortion. But for some reason everything was even more red, then I realized that blood was flowing from the top of my forehead. Judging by the posture, I banged my head against the slabs of the pedestal. My head was not empty, but at least temporarily freed from anger.

But it did not go anywhere, as its source still continued to exist.