The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss

As it turned out, yes, I was a needy customer.

I didn't feel bad about it though. It wasn't even remotely fair that we were just thrown into battle to sink or swim. It was even less fair that no one bothered to tell us how to take advantage of our rewards afterward. So, without shame, I unloaded all my questions onto the bank teller.

In any case, she seemed perfectly content to play ball.

"So, let me summarize." I was starting to realize how much better demon bureaucracy was. The demon explained everything several times and still hadn't shooed me away yet. "You're telling me these Absorption Stations will just let me steal a skill or knowledge base from a soul in my possession? And that I'll perfectly inherit it all, just like that?"

I sounded eager, and I didn't care.

I could have done so much more if I had the right set of skills. I could have avoided taking wounds. I could have racked up many more souls. I could have… well, okay, I couldn't have gone up against one of the elite champion defenders to claim their souls, but there were still plenty of other opportunities I missed.

Besides, if the purple-skinned demon with gorgeous golden eyes was right, this convenience didn't only apply to physical skills like brawling or swordsmanship. This also applied to things like mana manipulation, knowledge of mana training, or even mastery over specific spells.

All I had to do was kill a mage and find a station, and I could be slinging fireballs around!

"Yes, yes, I've told you that already, darling. Several times. Though you need to pay in souls to fuel the process. It's not exactly free. Of course, at the station, you can scan the souls in your possession to find out what skills they possess, with no fees attached. And remember you'll need to save some souls to fuel your growth."

There was that too. Such a funny way of referring to such a momentous thing. Growth.

Apparently, what they had done to us during our initiation was called 'planting the seed of the Abyss' within our souls. I was still a human. We all were. But now we each contained a bit of transformative potential, a tiny sliver of what makes a demon a demon. If I fed it, the seed would gradually 'elevate' my race.

In other words, so long as I kept sacrificing souls at the station, I could strip away my humanity and convert myself into a true demon. There was no guarantee about what level of demonic strength I would start off at, but the demonic teller's implication was obvious: anything was better than being human.

Honestly, I couldn't disagree. I noticed the looks other demons were shooting me. Their expressions ranged from utter disdain to the feelings usually reserved for one's dinner. They clearly thought of me as a lesser creature, and on paper, they were probably correct.

According to the schooling Hayden had received, demons were literally 'higher order' beings than base mortals. They were basically made of mana. Their bodies could take incredible amounts of punishment without faltering. And their minds could easily withstand the kind of magical research that would drive humans insane.

And, oh yes, they were virtually immortal.

To kill a demon, you would have to kill them on the mortal plane, then hunt them down in the Abyss and kill them there too. The Abyss, or Hell as everyone besides demons called it, is the source and home of all demon kind. Demons were even tougher in the Abyss than on the mortal plane. They were faster, and stronger, and more magically charged. They were just more, in every possible way.

So even if a human managed to kill a demon on the mortal plane, they had almost zero chance of hunting that demon down and achieving another victory on demonic home turf. Because of this, most true demon deaths were caused by… other demons.

I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to charge over to the nearest station and throw all my souls in the name of growth. Growth meant demonic power. It meant having actual, legal rights in hell. It meant making myself a mighty immortal nuisance.

That was a remarkably tempting prospect.

But at the moment, I needed to move on.

"Thank you for all the advice. Really, I mean it." I injected as much sincerity as I could into the words, earning myself a coy giggle.

"Oh, don't mention it, cutie. If you want to pay me back, hit me up when I'm done with my shift here." She batted her eyelashes rather aggressively. "Now, what would you like to do with your money?"

"I'd like to pay the invasion fee. Only that, for now." Digging into my bag, I hurriedly fished out the smallest ten souls I could find.

They all came from humans, so they were all, at a minimum, standard souls. From what she had told me, I would need to hunt down an animal or something similar to get a lesser soul, and even then, the creature would have to be incapable of wielding mana to be classified at such a low class.

Really, my chat with the demoness was enlightening.

And also considerably gross.

"Well, if you're sure. Do keep my offer in mind," the demon flirted.

I kept the smile on my face, paid off the fees I'd accrued for the 'honor' of getting shoved into a strange world to die, and tried not to sprint out of the bank.

Out of all of my original memories, I had kept one about my appearance. Before my original body kicked the bucket, I was a healthy man in his late twenties. And average on a good day. But I wasn't in my original body. And the demoness' words about my appearance dredged up some truly disquieting memories.

Hayden Hall, on the other hand, was a lean and tall young man, clocking in at an almost unnatural six feet and five inches. His roguishly handsome features paired extremely well with his baby blue eyes and short, velvety brown hair. He also looked like he was in his early twenties, but that was only thanks to whatever magical nonsense the demons used to make their soldiers mature faster.

Thanks to my newly awakened memories, I knew Hayden Hall was barely past the tender age of sixteen.

I shuddered when I thought about the predatory look in the demoness' eyes, then shuddered again thinking about the likely age of the fellow soldiers I'd killed.

Then again, how did that change anything? Did it really make any difference in what I had done, or how I felt about it? Murder was murder, whether the people losing their lives were a few years older or a few years younger.

I tried to focus on walking and kept my mind as clear as I could manage. Thanks to detailed directions from the bank teller, I reached my destination in a matter of minutes.

I hated it on sight.

The Absorption Station was a perfect circle of churned up soil, seemingly just plopped down in the middle of the city. At the center of the circle stood a single operating chair. I didn't need a sign to identify it as such. Tentacles swayed freely around the chair, each tipped by pliers, scalpels, strange spoons like ice cream scoops, and a host of other, more ominous implements.

I couldn't see anyone within the circle, but that didn't mean the station wasn't in use. As I watched, a soldier crossed into the circle's perimeter and vanished from sight.

The demoness had assured me that the process of getting augmented by the Absorption Station was extremely private. Not even a commander could barge in while I was in the middle of it. This was comforting, but did nothing to assuage my concerns over the operation itself.

Still, I had to do this.

With one final deep breath, I stepped inside the circle, taking the last step that separated me from my future accomplishments.

The world around me was ripped apart, flipped on its head, and then reassembled all wrong. The perfect circle of the Absorption Station was still the same, but looking trying to look outside it revealed only a kaleidoscope of disturbing sights and colors that my mind could not process beyond one ever-shifting splotch. Follow current novᴇls on n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net

Once again, I almost lost my most recent meal.