The air grew hotter as Selene led Jack and his friends deeper into Hell. The landscape shifted, becoming harsher and more volatile. Rivers of molten lava crisscrossed the ground, and geysers of fire erupted sporadically. The sky above was a swirling mass of black and red clouds, occasionally illuminated by streaks of lightning.

“This,” Selene announced, her voice cutting through the oppressive heat, “is the Realm of Wrath, one of the most volatile territories in Hell. Here, the souls consumed by anger and violence endure their penance.”

Tom shielded his face from the intense heat. “What kind of penance are we talking about?”

Selene gestured to the scene ahead. Massive fields stretched as far as the eye could see, where countless souls clashed in endless, brutal combat. They fought with bare hands, weapons conjured from ash, or sheer willpower. Each time a soul fell, it rose again moments later, only to rejoin the fray.

Claire gasped. “They’re forced to fight? Forever?”

“Not just fight,” Selene explained. “They relive the very rage that consumed them in life. Every blow, every wound, is a reflection of the hatred they harbored. Their torment is their own creation.”

Jack watched, equal parts horrified and fascinated. He noticed a towering figure overseeing the chaos. The being was clad in crimson armor that seemed to radiate heat, and its eyes glowed like twin suns.

“Who’s that?” Jack asked, pointing to the figure.

Selene smiled faintly. “That is Lady Azara, the Princess of Wrath. She governs this realm, ensuring that its rage never spills over into the other domains. Azara thrives on conflict—it is her essence, her purpose.”

As if hearing her name, Azara turned her gaze toward the group. In an instant, she was standing before them, her presence overwhelming. Her voice was deep and commanding. “Selene, why have you brought mortals to my domain?”

“They’re here to learn,” Selene replied calmly. “I thought your realm would be an excellent starting point.”

Azara’s glowing eyes scanned the group, lingering on Jack. “Learning is dangerous here. Wrath is not an emotion easily understood, let alone controlled. Are you prepared to face it?”

Jack hesitated but nodded. “We’re here to see the truth, no matter how hard it is.”

Azara smirked, a flicker of respect in her expression. “Very well. Then observe closely.”

She waved a hand, and a section of the battlefield shifted, revealing a group of souls who weren’t fighting. Instead, they were chained together, their faces twisted in agony.

“Not all who enter this realm are warriors,” Azara explained. “Some were consumed by wrath in subtler ways—bitterness, resentment, passive hatred. Their punishment is isolation, bound by the very chains of their unspoken anger.”

Emma shuddered. “That’s… awful.”

“It is justice,” Azara said firmly. “Hell is not cruel for cruelty’s sake. Each soul faces the consequences of its own actions.”

Selene stepped forward. “Thank you, Azara. We should move on before their presence disrupts the balance here.”

Azara nodded. “Be careful with these mortals, Selene. They are fragile, no matter how curious.”

As they left the Realm of Wrath, Jack couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and unease. This wasn’t the chaotic Hell he’d imagined—it was structured, purposeful, even logical in its cruelty.

“Selene,” he asked, breaking the silence, “why does Hell operate this way? Why not just… destroy these souls?”

Selene glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Because destruction is simple, Jack. But understanding? Growth? Those are far more complex. Even in suffering, there is a kind of order.”

Tom muttered, “This place is insane.”

Claire, however, seemed deep in thought. “It’s not insanity. It’s… methodical. Like a reflection of human nature, taken to the extreme.”

Selene smiled faintly. “You’re beginning to understand. Come now—the next realm awaits.”

As they walked on, the landscape began to shift once more, the fiery glow of Wrath fading into an eerie, icy blue. Jack’s heart raced. If Wrath was this intense, what horrors would the next realm hold?