Bleach Gates Of Hell 소설 & 이야기

He doesn't deserve anything or any form of consideration from me for screwing me over the way he did. When I get to the huge gates leading to the mansion, I get the feeling that something is off. I soon understand what's wrong when I honk for several minutes for the person manning the gate to open it, yet nothing happens, and no one appears. Christ! Are we so broke that my dad can't afford to keep even one person to man the damn gates? Sighing in exasperation, I get down from my car and walk up to the imposing gate to look up at it.

ARIA A mischievous smile glints on his lips. “Have you heard about the hell gates near the dorm building?” “The girls are always talking about it.” My lips answer softly. “The hell gates lead to a river through the narrow road in the woods. No one has ever come back alive from there.” “We have three applicants. You all need to enter the hell gates and come back with a white flag hidden somewhere near the river.” “If one of you manages to survive, you'll join the disciplinary committee.”

The mountain’s spine split open before them. A scar of obsidian stone and molten light cut through the ridge, pulsing like a living heartbeat. The air itself shimmered, thick with power and the stench of sulfur and ozone. Aria could barely breathe; the energy clawed at her lungs, burning away every mortal trace left in her blood. “This is it,” Kael said quietly, voice rasped from battle and smoke. His hand still trembled as he touched the black stone. The fire beneath his skin flared in response, drawn to it like a moth to flame. “The Gate of Ash and Light.”

A sudden, sharp tinnitus rings in my ears, drowning out the roar of the lava below. "Leo! Mommy’s here! Breathe with me, baby!" I scream into the link, my voice fracturing. I stop fighting Kael’s grip. I can’t. If he’s the only anchor we have, then I’ll let him burn me. We are standing on the edge of the First Gate—a jagged, obsidian rift that stretches across the caldera like a hungry mouth. There is no bridge. There is only a narrow, glowing path of solidified ash that responds to the resonance of the Prime bloodline.

2026. PRESENT. SEOUL. HELL MORGATHOR PRISON. ☠️ SORA ☠️ ‘Hell Morgathor prison’ is carved in front of the gate, with a skeleton head that’s meant to signify death. The detective gets verified, and the gate opens wide to let us in.

“Three giants. Fifty heads. A hundred arms each. They guard each wall. Four walls in total. One gate in. One gate out. To pass through, you have to fight them.” Groans. Swears. Exasperated eye-rolls. Understandable. “That’s just the beginning,” Hermes says. “Oh, good,” Dev mutters. “Because fighting giant hydra-squids with a thousand fists sounds like such a warm-up.” “Next is the Phlegethon,” Hermes continues. “A river of boiling blood and fire. If it touches you, you die screaming. No shortcuts.” “Of course not,” Citra says flatly. “After the river, there’s a fourth gate. Locked. It squeaks.”

He saw only the doors. ​He did not use a ram. He did not use magic. He slammed his massive shoulder into the iron-reinforced oak. The gates did not just open; they disintegrated into splinters. ​Inside, the Great Hall was a tomb of golden ash. ​Kaelen shifted back into his human form mid-stride. He stood naked and terrible in the center of the hall, his white hair whipping around his face. His eyes scanned the carnage. The Council guards lay scattered across the floor, their bodies intact but their spirits clearly burned away by a massive surge of purification light.

Around him, his cult stood silently—hooded, faceless, loyal. He reached out and placed one hand on the gate. The surface rippled under his fingers. “So soft now,” he whispered. “So weak.” One of the corrupted demigods behind him stepped forward. “Shall we begin?” Nihareth smiled faintly. “Yes. Begin.” He pressed both hands against the gate and began to chant. The ground shook. The light dimmed. A crack snapped across the pillar. The Gate of Dawn, once beautiful and holy, began to bleed.

As the echoes faded, the silver veins in the earth began to pulse faster, spreading outward like wildfire toward the Gate. The wind screamed through the gorge as Kaelen crested the ridge. The world below no longer looked like the valley he’d sworn to protect. The ground pulsed with veins of light, rivers of silver snaking between shattered stones. The air shimmered like molten glass, bending and breaking the rain into prisms. And at the center of it all stood the Gate—a colossal arch of fractured crystal half-buried in the mountain. Its surface rippled like water, reflecting skies that didn’t belong to this world.