Chapter 209:

After the filth of the trench, the streets of the city are relatively clean. They are very wide, and some tree species that can survive without sunlight are planted in some places. Their black trunks and branches, and even the dark blue leaves that emerge from them are rough and twisted, as if they grow every time. An inch is born in convulsions. There are no cars on the street, but there are bicycles, car chairs, rickshaws, and even some horse-drawn carriages. Their skin is almost transparent, and their fleshless heads are wide and flat (their eyes are fixed on these large bones). Either side)), they are similar to rotten flesh sewn on a donkey.
On the street, people heard the news of Saivita. At every intersection, even the busiest traffic was blocked by demons wearing dark purple uniforms. Saivita was able to escape through the city without being blocked by a single citizen.
At the time of his death, most citizens either showed signs of piety—touching the belly button, sternum and middle forehead eyebrows before tilting their heads—or, if they were an officer, they knelt down to show respect. Not only and demons fell to the ground, but many cursed people also fell. The priest ignored them, but Felixson drank everything.
From a closer look, Felixson was more impressed by the buildings they hurried past than on the Abbey Hill. Their façade is decorated with the mythical and intricate scenes of Lucifer. The figures were designed to be contained in a strict square format, which reminded Felixson of the decorations that he had seen in the temples of the Incas and Aztecs. Various activities are depicted in these decorations: wars, celebrations, and even exchanges, all of which are very vividly depicted. As he walked for a long time in the silence and claustrophobic cell of the fortress, he could only see the city for a few minutes from time to time, which made Felixson feel a vague sense of satisfaction, enough to make him have a full meal. Stare
"There," the priest said, tearing Felixson from his reverie.
Felixon looked up and saw him pointing at the tallest building in the city. It rose higher than the eyes and pierced the dark sky. Although the building is huge, it has no details at all. No window, no characteristic peak, its facade is the essence of Mutani. This palace is a real work of art, a building so boring that it hasn't even caught the eye. Felixson guessed that this was a joke, and its architect found it interesting.
When they reached the top of the mountain within three steps, a door opened inward, although no one was obviously doing the work. Felixon noticed the smallest tremor in the hands of the Hell priest. The title man raised his invisible eyes, stared at the stone glasses towering above them, and said: "I am judged here. If the trial goes against me, you will destroy all my efforts. Do you understand? ?"
"Is it annoying?" Felixon said.
"Don't give in to emotions. I have everything I need here." Nothing will be lost. "
"I know, Master. I can."
Saivita expressed a subtle agreement, and then they walked in together.
The unconsumed palace has no features inside and outside. The hall is dense, and the bureaucrats wear gray suits tailored to suit any physical defects suffered by the deceased. A circle of rugby-sized tumors grows on a man's back, and his clothes neatly surround each pulsating protrusion. Some people put on cloth hoods and reduced their expressions to a horizontal rectangle with two small eyelets and a mouth. There are signal lines sewn on the fabric, the significance of which is beyond Felixon's field of knowledge.
The monotonous channels are illuminated by exposed large bulbs, and the light they emit is never completely stable, but flickers-not flicker-as if the light source is inside. After turning the corner of the passage six times (everyone is remembered by Felixson), they came to a shocking place. Felixon thought the whole building was a hive of featureless corridors, but he was wrong. This area is an open space, bathed in light, consisting only of a reflective metal tube, which may be about ten feet wide, extending from the ground to the ceiling, and the ceiling is always higher than their heads. not see.
The title man pointed out the darkness above them and said one word:
"There."
Their ascent is achieved through a wide spiral staircase located inside the reflecting tube. Each metal step is welded to its core. But even in this elegant structure, the sense of has not been ignored. Each step is not set to be at a 90 degree angle to the core, but set to 97 or 100 or 155. Each step is different from the previous steps, but they all send out the same message: there is no definite information here; nothing is safe. If someone loses a foothold, there is no railing to make the slide fall. Only after an uneasy step is it designed step by step to make the climb as realistic as possible.
However, Savita is provocative. He did not climb the stairs to the place close to the pillars, where he could at least enjoy the illusion of safety, but always rose to the end of the steps, as if daring to bear his due destiny. Sometimes, the design of the previous step can make it steeper, and the ascent to the next step takes quite a long time, but the priest somehow completed the climb effortlessly, allowing Felixson to follow closely behind. Grasp the core tightly. Halfway through their journey, he began to count the stairs. Before the priest of Hell disappeared, Felixon had risen to 389.
Felixon was almost out of breath and continued to climb the stairs, and found an arch at the top of the stairs, which was more than twice his height. The Giraffe had already walked over, and was surprised to find that there was no guard on the threshold, at least no one could see it. Felixson continued to follow his master until his head was so low that he couldn't see the room the master led him into. Felixson saw them in a large dome. Although its head was low and it was difficult to judge accurately, its apex must be 200 feet high. The entire room seems to be carved out of white marble, including the floor. The floor was cold under the soles of his feet, although he tried his best to avoid making noises.
"Enough," someone said, their orders folded into a thousand diminishing echoes.
Felixon and the priest heard a suffocating heat from the center of the dome. The only object in the circular room is the throne, which is far beyond the size of an ordinary piece of furniture, so it should be a better, uninvented word. It is made of solid metal blocks nine to ten inches thick: a high-back plate, a plate for each arm, a plate for the seat, and a fifth parallel to the arm plate but below the seat Boards.
Flammable gases emerge from six long and wide vents, one on each side of the throne, and two directly below. They burned with a sapphire flame, which intensified into white soreness, with red spots dotted at its core. The gas rises to the height behind the flame, and the flame itself easily rises ten feet higher, and then gathers together, weaving itself into a hot cylinder. If the dome is not pierced by several concentric rings, the heat inside the dome will be fatal, accommodating a powerful fan to absorb the excess heat. Right above the throne, the spotless white marble in the secret room was burned to black.
As for the throne itself, it was almost white-hot. Sitting inside, his posture was very formal. He was the kind of creature indifferent to flames, and gave him an appropriate nickname: unconsumed. Felixon had heard of him in a whisper. No matter what color his skin was originally, his body is now darkened from the heat. His clothes and shoes (if ever worn) and office staff (if ever carrying) were all burned. The same goes for all the hair on his head, face and body. However, somehow, the rest of him (his skin, flesh and bones) were not affected by the volcanic heat he was sitting on.
The priest stopped his pace. Felixson did the same thing, even if he didn't get the order, he knelt down.
"Do you know why you were called?"
"No."
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