The World in Dissonance (Volume 2)

Chapter 2 - Part 2

Part 2

No matter where the little girl was looking, she only found a decaying and rotting environment. Everything around her appeared distorted beyond reason, as though creation itself had been twisted into a grotesque mockery of the world she once knew. Jagged cliffs of blackened stone stretched endlessly beneath a crimson sky that never seemed to move, while rivers of smoldering fire crawled through the land like veins feeding an endless nightmare. The screams of the children echoing throughout the vicinity only made the dreadful silence between each cry feel even more unbearable.

Just like the other children, Laurencia was imprisoned inside one of the countless iron cages suspended above the infernal abyss. Thick rusted chains disappeared into the darkness overhead, swaying gently without any wind to move them. Every now and then, another cage could be heard creaking somewhere nearby, followed by the frightened sobs of a child desperately calling for their mother or father.

The little girl instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. Her entire body trembled, not because of the scorching heat that filled the realm, but because of the overwhelming sense of despair pressing against her heart. It felt as though countless unseen eyes were silently watching every movement she made.

Then it came again.

That unbearable gaze.

Laurencia suddenly froze.

It was not something she could see, nor something she could properly describe. Yet she knew, with every fiber of her being, that the monstrous entity lurking somewhere within this dreadful realm had turned its attention toward her once more. Merely sensing its presence was enough to make breathing difficult, as though invisible hands were tightening around her chest.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven..."

The words escaped her lips almost instinctively.

"Hallowed be Thy Name..."

Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, trembling between every sentence.

It was the prayer Alyss had patiently taught her before bedtime, reminding her that no darkness was greater than the light of God. She repeated every word carefully, afraid she might forget them, yet clinging to each sentence as though it were a rope keeping her from falling into the abyss.

"Deliver us from evil..."

As the final words left her lips, the suffocating fear did not disappear completely. But it loosened, enough for her to breathe once more.

Laurencia gently wiped away the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I... I can't cry forever..."

She quietly reminded herself, though her tiny voice quivered.

Around her, several children continued to sob uncontrollably. Some curled into balls at the corners of their cages, while others desperately shook the bars until their small hands became bruised and bloodied. They were all terrified.

She was terrified too. But if everyone surrendered to fear, then no one would ever leave this place.

"D-Don't cry...", softly called Laurencia toward the nearest cage. "We'll... we'll think of something together..."

A little boy looked toward her with swollen red eyes, saying nothing.

Another little girl only buried her face deeper into her knees.

Laurencia's heart ached. She wanted to comfort them properly, yet she herself barely knew how to remain calm.

(Think... Big Sis Dedicatus always said panic is what evil wants.)

Her emerald eyes slowly wandered throughout the dreadful landscape, observing every chain, every cage, every cliff, every flickering flame. Even though terror constantly threatened to cloud her thoughts, she forced herself to examine everything carefully.

Dedicatus had always encouraged her to observe before acting.

“God gave us a mind for a reason!”

Her eldest sister would often say those words with a gentle smile whenever Laurencia found herself overwhelmed by uncertainty.

‘Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken from us. It is a gift.’

Dedicatus would often quote those words of wisdom from Dante Alighieri before explaining their meaning in her own way. Fate was never an excuse to surrender oneself to despair. Rather, it was a reminder that one's life ultimately rested in hands far greater than those of men or demons. No matter how uncertain tomorrow appeared, fear alone could never change what God had already permitted.

‘For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.’

Unlike Dedicatus, who delighted in teaching the wisdom left behind by great thinkers, poets, philosophers, and theologians throughout history, Alyss always guided Laurencia back to the Holy Scriptures. And in this case, she remembered when her Big Sister taught her what was written in 2 Timothy 1:17.

If one taught her to understand the world through reason, the other taught her to understand it through faith. Neither lesson opposed the other; together, they strengthened one another, just as the two sisters themselves did.

As Dedicatus often reminded her, fear was born from ignorance. Human beings naturally feared what they neither understood nor could control. The unknown invited panic, while knowledge granted the mind something firm to grasp. That was why one had to remain calm even amidst terror. To master one's thoughts was the first step toward mastering one's fear.

And when reason finally reached its limit, that was where faith carried the Soul the rest of the way.

Laurencia inhaled deeply.

(This place... It doesn't feel like the world...)

She remembered listening countless times as Dedicatus enthusiastically explained everything she had learned from Father John regarding the Spiritual Realm. Angels, Demons, Temptations, the Nature of Souls, the Authority of God over every visible and invisible thing...

At the time, Laurencia understood very little. Now she desperately tried recalling every lesson.

"I-if this really is... the place demons belong..."

She lowered her voice until only she could hear it.

"Then they can't be stronger than God."

The simple thought steadied her trembling heart. Then another memory surfaced. Father John's warm smile came to her mind.

"Never mistake darkness for victory, little one!", the old priest had once told her after Sunday service. "Darkness often appears overwhelming because it hides the light. But light has never needed permission from darkness to shine."

Laurencia slowly tightened her tiny fists.

"No...”, said the little girl as she shook her head. “This isn't the end."

At that very moment, another wave of dreadful pressure swept across the infernal realm. The invisible gaze had returned.

Her body instinctively stiffened as cold terror raced through her spine. Tears nearly escaped her eyes once again.

"Hail Mary, full of grace..."

She whispered another prayer, this one taught to her by Alyss during one quiet evening at home. Her frightened breathing gradually slowed as each familiar word settled her heart.

Only after finishing did she finally find the courage to raise her head again. Then she remembered Sonya's gentle advice.

“Courage isn't the absence of fear, Laurencia. Courage is choosing to do what is right even while you're afraid.”

"I'm still afraid...", quietly admitted the girl to herself. "But... I can still think."

With renewed determination, Laurencia carefully looked beyond her own cage. There had to be something the others had overlooked; a weakness, a path or anything at all.

As long as God had allowed her to remain alive, she refused to believe that hope had abandoned them. Laurencia slowly closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe despite the suffocating atmosphere surrounding her.

(Think...)

She had to think.

(Big Sis Dedicatus always said that fear clouded reason, and that panic was often the greatest ally of evil.)

Even if her body trembled, she had to keep her mind clear. As her gaze wandered through the infernal landscape, fragments of old conversations resurfaced one after another.

She remembered countless afternoons sitting beside Dedicatus as her eldest sister excitedly spoke about theology, history, and old books that most children would have found unbearably dull. Somehow, Laurencia had always loved listening to them.

"The Divine Comedy isn't the Bible!”, Dedicatus had once explained with a cheerful smile while gently patting Laurencia's head. "It's a beautiful poem written by Dante. Some people confuse its Hell with the real deal, but Scripture never describes everything the same way."

Laurencia could still remember Dedicatus enthusiastically drawing nine large circles across several sheets of paper, carefully explaining how Dante imagined Hell descending through each successive layer, every circle representing different sins and punishments. The young girl had listened with sparkling eyes, fascinated by the strange journey.

"But...", Dedicatus had continued afterward, tapping her Bible. “If you really want to understand the spiritual world, this comes first."

She had then guided Laurencia through passages from Isaiah, speaking of Lucifer's downfall and humanity's pride before God. Another day, she had opened the Book of Revelation, describing the ancient dragon, the final judgment, and the promise that evil would one day be cast down forever. Sometimes those lessons would naturally drift toward discussions about angels, demons, or even the Tree of Life from Kabbalah—not because every tradition held equal authority, Dedicatus always insisted, but because understanding how different people sought to explain the unseen world helped her appreciate Scripture even more.

"The Bible is our foundation," she would often say. "Everything else must be measured against it."

Laurencia had never fully understood all those lessons. Now, trapped within this dreadful realm, she desperately wished she had paid even closer attention. Her emerald eyes swept across the countless cages suspended over the abyss.

(If Dante imagined nine circles...)

She silently observed the endless wasteland stretching into the distance.

(Then this place doesn't look like the pictures Big Sis drew.)

There were no clear boundaries. No descending rings. No orderly divisions separating one domain from another. Everything appeared chaotic—as though corruption itself had consumed every corner of existence.

Perhaps Dedicatus had been right. Books written by men could imagine many things. But the reality of evil was far more dreadful than words could ever capture.

.

..

...

Time passed, if one could say such a thing.

Concept such as time mattered no more in that realm.

Then, amidst the cries of despair and the suffocating silence between them, another memory quietly surfaced within Laurencia's mind.

She remembered sitting beside Dedicatus in the campus library, her chin resting upon the wooden table as her eldest sister enthusiastically turned the pages of a well-worn Bible.

"Many people think the Devil rules Hell!”, Dedicatus had said with a small laugh. "But that's actually not what the Bible teaches."

Laurencia had tilted her head in confusion.

"He doesn't?"

"Nay!!"

Dedicatus smiled before opening the Book of Revelation.

"The Devil isn't the king of Hell. Hell is his sentence."

Her finger slowly traced the verses before continuing.

"The Lake of Fire—the final place of eternal punishment—is prepared for the Devil and his angels. According to Revelation 20, it belongs to the end of history, after the Final Judgment. Evil isn't reigning there."

She paused for a brief moment before adding.

"It is there that evil will finally lose."

Laurencia remembered blinking several times, trying to understand.

"So... Hell hasn't happened yet?"

"Not in its final form.", replied Dedicatus at that time, with gentle nod.

"The dead await judgment, but the Lake of Fire described by Saint John is the last act of God's justice. It isn't a kingdom where Satan sits upon a throne. It is the prison from which there is no escape."

She had smiled warmly before tapping Laurencia's forehead with her finger.

"Always pay attention to ‘when’ something happens in Scripture. God's plan unfolds in order. Understanding that order helps us understand everything else."

Laurencia's eyes slowly widened. The dreadful landscape before her had not changed. The cages still swayed. The children still cried. That oppressive gaze still lingered somewhere within the darkness.

Yet... One single thought echoed louder than every scream surrounding her.

(If Big Sis was right... Then this place...)

Her breathing suddenly stopped.

(It can't be...)

The realization had only just begun to take shape.

And for the very first time since arriving in this accursed realm, Laurencia looked upon the endless abyss not merely with fear—but with a question.