A Mass Summon

The Gladiator King and his new associate, Purity, find shelter in a torn-down cabin overrun by the surrounding foliage and completely submersed in pink moss. Having left the Lust ring without its Sin, they have freed hundreds of captive souls. The souls who were freed are less than happy being ripped away from their illusions of peace. The ring is plunged into confusion and chaos as those winged beasts from earlier, the succubi, attempt to regain control of the situation. Some succubi create quick and crude shops to offer services and protection, while others attempt to capture or kill the sinners simply. This divide in approach causes a more literal divide in species, leading to the formation of what will be known as the violent Arch-succubus species and the tamer Children of Lust succubus.

The chaos unfolding catches Satan's attention. Feeling the loss of Lust and lack of replacement, he comes to the only reasonable conclusion: The new kid in hell is making moves already. Satan finds it prudent to nip this problem in the bud and make his way to the throne room. On his way, he is intercepted by a smaller man in a nicely tailored suit, a wooden mask resembling Satan's grotesque face, and a top hat that nearly makes up for the difference in height. This man bows to the Demon King before speaking.

"The preparations are set, Satan. Should we start the summoning rituals?"

A bit baffled at this efficiency, Satan can't help but question the masked man.

"Were you aware of the situation unfolding this entire time?"

Raising his head, the masked man chuckles.

"I'd be a fool not to keep tabs on THAT family. I even have eyes and ears on the two others on earth."

"Your foresight is to be admired, Xiulan. Send out the summons to the remaining sins. We'll begin deliberation upon their arrival."

Xiulan bows before Satan, hiding a smile behind his wooden mask.

"I'll get it done right away."

Xiulan advances from the south hallway to a dimly lit theatre adorned with multiple chandeliers crafted from bone and entrails. Drapes carved of skin still dripping wet with blood clasp to the larger-than-life side walls. Though large in area, the theatre lacks any appropriate flare. Candles light the stage but neglect the seating area, which has only ten chairs surrounding the stage. Seven chairs were reserved for each Sin; one was left for Satan. Xiulan Tonnis himself even has a reserved chair; the last chair posed behind the other nine is left open for God, though the acting lord has yet to appear at any meeting in the last few centuries.

In preparation for the summoning of the remaining sins, Tonnis and five of his attendants approach the well-maintained stage. Maintaining a rehearsed and intentional formation, Tonnis and his group form a circle in the center of the stage; donning ceremonial daggers, in synchronicity, the five attendants carve a fine and precise slice into the right side of their faces. Perfect in execution, the attendants remain silent lest they ruin the ritual.

The five attendants then begin sliding the knife across the broad side of their faces.

At the same time, Tonnis slowly tears the wooden mask from his face; due to it being seared to his face, the top layer of his skin was ripping from the rest of his face.

The blood spilling from this ritual forms one large pentagram on the stage floor. With the first few steps completed, the five attendants finish scalping their faces. Two of these attendees bite down on their tongues in an attempt to take their minds off the pain while continuing to the next step of the ritual. Tonnis fills the wooden mask with his blood and gently places it in the center of the pentagram. The attendants follow suit, and each places their flayed skin on one point of the pentagram. Tonnis claps twice, then waits one beat as the attendants clap twice. In an uncanny unison, they begin to pray. Tonnis is taking the lead.

“O FATHER WHO ART IN HEAVEN, HEAR OUR SUMMON.”

The attendants follow suit, each then naming the sin their sacrifice will represent. Tonnis continues onto the second part of the prayer, which is meant to protect himself and the castle should the Sins go against Satan.

“I WILL SAY OF THE LORD YOU ARE MY FORTRESS AND MY REFUGE, MY GOD OF WHOM I WILL TRUST; O LORD ALMIGHTY, PROTECT THIS PLACE FROM SIN.”

The attendants added a certain caveat to ensure the safety of both Tonnis and Satan.

“Sin and vices hold no power, O great lord, grant protection to the great leaders of our abode. PRAISE BE!”

The blood pentagram started to glow due to the proper prayer and sacrifices being in place. Tonnis goes to the last and final portion of the summon. As the glowing blood began to boil, Tonnis clapped twice again; in response, the attendants fell to their knees and bowed with their faces against the ground. With the preparations ready, Tonnis commences with the final prayer spoken in Latin for more emphasis and strength of the prayers told preciously.

“O domine qui de caelis despicis magnas damnatas desidiae, Irae, gulae, avaritiae, Invidiae profers.”

With the completion of the last prayer, the first attendant’s body emits a fog of frost so cold that the ground around them freezes solid. The pentagram warps and contorts into a wide portal that drains the heat from the surrounding area. Chills run down the spine of all in attendance as our first guest makes their appearance.

A woman wrapped from head to toe in gauze, tape, and bandages steps out from the ether. Her heavy crop top jacket and loose martial artist pants allow her to regulate the temperature of herself and those around her more easily. Tonnis allows the woman space to understand what’s going on before greeting her.

“Welcome, Wrath; thank you for your timely appearance.”

Wrath, holding back what seems to be disgust towards Tonnis, steps out of the Pentagram and towards the attendant, who is now frozen solid. She bows to the frosted attendant before kneeling and facing the pentagram.

The next attendant is hit with a wave of lethargy, and as rehearsed, they do not resist the temptation to close their eyes. The attendant’s body falls limp and starts decaying as if they had been dead for years. Their skin withers away in seconds, and their muscles atrophy just as quickly. All that was left was the skeleton of the sacrificed attend.

“Took you long enough.”

A tinge of excitement warps Wrath’s voice as our next guest appears. A large suit of dense metal armor clanks through the ether. The giant menacingly staggers toward Tonnis before lowering to one knee to reveal a small girl in a panda print onesie and wearing a surgical mask. Her eyes were glossed over with a milky white film, indicating her near-total blindness. A soft voice comes from the girl.

“Thank you for the invitation. Does Satan require my sight once again? If so, he’ll have to wait a few weeks as I’m still drained from the last time.”

Tonnis, with a polite laugh, waves off Sloth’s offer.

“No, no, that is not the reason for today's meeting.”

A smile was housed on the blind girl's face, relieved that she didn’t disappoint Satan.

“Oh good, I'd hate to have to exert myself.”

The suit of armor rises back to its feet and steps towards Wrath. The second the suit of armor steps outside the pentagram, it begins to fall to pieces. The protective prayer from Tonnis and the attendants dampens the connection between Sloth and her construct. Sloth falls from her metal pedestal and lands in the cautious arms of Wrath, who then carries her friend to the prepared seats in the auditorium. Sloth jokes as her friend sets her in the padded seat next to her.

“Ah, my decrepit knight, how have you been Wrath. You’ve missed out on my last invitation. Is everything alright in your ring?”

Wrath takes the seat next to Sloth and speaks quietly while observing the rest of the summoning.

“I’ve been fine; I’m putting your teachings to good use. However, I must admit the ring has a distinct talent for pissing me off.”

Sloth replies with compassion. She has been in hell long enough to see the trials and tribulations most “Wraths” went through.

“Yes, hell can be unpleasant, but from what I’ve seen, you’re more than capable of controlling it all.”

Wrath remains in silence as Sloth pats her shoulder, their friendship being a saving grace for Wrath’s mental state.

During their somber conversation, the next sin made their presence known. The third attendant leaks blood from their ears and what’s left of their nose. Small mushrooms sprout from just under the attendant's skin; one after another, mushrooms continue growing. Multiple colonies of fungus take ownership of the living corpse of the attendant, draining their life essence. The attendant’s body withers away, succumbing to the fungi that claimed their body.

Once the sacrifice is good and dead, a large death cap mushroom pops out of the ether. The mushroom continues escaping the void and reveals that it is the replacement head for a short male with a slightly perturbing stomach. The small man was clad in a half-zipped-up hazmat suit. The living fungus inhales the spores exuding from his sacrifice. With a wide, toothy grin from its vile mouth, Gluttony speaks out to his “friends.”

“Mmmm. The stench of pestilence is a gift from me to you. Please allow me to share the presents fungi bring today.”

Tonnis, while maintaining focus so as not to ruin the ritual, addresses the newest arrival.

“Gluttony, you will have time to share, but not today; there is a prayer in place to prevent unwanted advances with everyone’s powers. Feel free to ask around when the meeting is adjourned.”

“Your kindness is second only to my generosity; this meeting best go by quickly; I’m afraid I won’t be able to pass on my blessings if I fall asleep.”

“I’ll see what we can do for you, Gluttony.”

Gluttony jumps from the stage with his grin plastered on his face. Though he lacks eyes, he easily spots a seat next to Sloth.

“Sloth, is that you? My, how you’ve grown. I miss our usual tea parties. When shall we meet next, My friend?”

Sloth waves in the direction of Gluttony’s voice as he takes the seat beside her.

“Our next tea party is scheduled for three days, six hours and fifteen minutes from now. I enjoyed the herbal remedy you gifted me last time. Could you bring more?”

“Oh, Ho Ho, I knew you'd enjoy that concoction. I made sure to have extra prepared for when we meet next.”

Sloth and Gluttony talk through the rest of the summoning, both having no interest in their colleague's extravagant entrances. Wrath, on the other hand, ignored their pleasantries in favor of keeping her vengeful eyes on Tonnis and the ritual.

The next guest manifests in the ether; gold semi-circles appear around the fourth attendant’s body. All in attendance understand the unavoidable situation that's about to transpire. The rings slowly close around the terrified attendant, and with their connection being completed, the attendant violently coughs up blood.

Forcing themself to stay in position, the attendant continues coughing; blood and gold coins shoot from their mouth as the circles around their body slowly transform the attendant into a golden statue from the inside out.

With the completion of the sacrifice, a large Salvadoran man tears through the ether. Cigar in hand and a golden smile plastered on his face, this and a red handkerchief break the monotony of his grey three-piece suit. Each step towards Tonnis shakes the stage.

“Tonnis, my friend, my pal, mejor amigo! How much would it cost for me to stay home today? I hear nuestro jefe is in a sour mood, and I don't want his temper aimed my way.”

Tonnis scoffs at the notion of a bribe. Every Sin knows one thing; No one knows Satan’s limit. Tonnis knows this all too well. Time and time again, Tonnis believes he’s seen Satan’s full power. Time and time again, he was proven wrong.

“You and I both understand why that wouldn't work. This meeting is important. You would do well to appreciate the invitation.”

The large man rolls his eyes with a tinge of disappointment. He cuts the end of his cigar before toasting the end.

“You said that last time; it better not be another check-in.”

“You may have a seat, Greed.”

Greed rolls his eyes at the dismissal and steps down from the stage. Though annoyed at the interruption from his work, Greed also has an air of excitement around him. Something akin to a child opening a present. He is anticipating the arrival of a certain Sin, someone he hasn't seen in ages. For now, however, he is content with the company. Taking a seat next to Wrath, he can't resist the temptation to bother her.

“Wrath, how have you been ninã? I notice you’ve got clean bandages now; going soft?”

Wrath is easily tempted to retaliate either verbally or physically. With Sloth’s hand gripping hers, Wrath remembers her calming techniques. With a deep breath and controlled exhalation, Wrath is able to respond with a level head.

“Sanitation is the best way to improve effectiveness; you should learn more about it, bhonsdike.”

The Sins spent enough time with each other to pick up some words in each other's native tongues. Greed and Wrath especially have most of each other's languages remembered simply just to know when they're being insulted by one another. Greed is especially familiar with “Bhonsdike,” basically meaning “son of a whore.” Wrath has always called Greed this, and Greed has always taken it poorly. Greed abruptly stands and reaches into his shirt pocket to equip his hefty rings before cracking his knuckles. Wrath stands with him, letting go of sloth the instant Greed showed aggression. Getting in Greed’s face, Wrath stares into his eyes and cracks her knuckles as well.

“You still have that big ass mouth; someone oughta show you your place.”

“Careful, fatass, you can't use your powers here. A fight isn't in your favor.”

The back and forth between these two continues until it is interrupted by a blood-curdling screech from the last attendant. Sharp wire tears through the attendant’s legs, holding them down while shredding their flesh. Pieces of rusty rebar shoot through the attendant's left arm as the other one twists and contorts all sorts of ways, the right arm being shredded by the attendant's splintered bones. Wooden splinters protrude from the attendant's brain and through the skull, creating an unholy crown of thorns imitation. More thorns and splinters shoot out from the attendant’s eye sockets; the thorns sprout beautiful, vibrant flowers before wilting completely. Tonnis shows disappointment with the flowers. Otherwise, he doesn’t show much emotion toward the grotesque situation unfolding before him.

“Always a hard one to please. Knowing Envy, they probably already understand what’s at hand.”

The attendant is just barely clinging to life as a colossal hand made of ivory, rusty metal, and stolen flesh sprouts from their mouth and promptly crushes the attendant. A low, menacing voice rumbles through the ether.

“……Worth….less…..”

Greed and Tonnis both have disappointed looks on their faces, but for different reasons. Envy, being unsatisfied with the sacrifice, refuses to attend. Most Sins have no such privilege, but with Envy being as ancient as Satan himself, there is a bit of leeway.

With every attendant properly sacrificed, the meeting may continue. Greed and Wrath share looks of animosity towards each other before reclaiming their seats. Sloth leans over to Wrath to deliver words of encouragement.

“That was way better than last time. Good job.”

Sloth puts two thumbs up and shines a wide smile, genuinely happy that her teachings have made it into Wrath’s behavior. Wrath can’t hide her joy from Sloth’s acknowledgment of her growth, but before she can reply, two loud claps emit from the stage, more accurately from Tonnis. The Sins turn their attention to Tonnis, each Sin housing an uninterested or disgusted face as he begins the meeting.