Screams and wails filled the air, thick enough to taste. The flames licked at everything that moved, inflicting pain and misery in quantities unheard of on the world above. Decaying structures, constructed from the very bones and souls of those sentenced to the brimstone prison, littered the landscape, maintained by men turned slaves. Hope and joy were nonexistent, ground out of each and every tortured soul sentenced to their self-inflicted fate. This was Hell, the ultimate incarceration.

Amidst all the agony moved a lone creature, neither man nor beast, ignored by the demons that roamed and the men that suffered. It rolled forward, supported by a pair of treads on either side of its cylindrical body. A pair of lights affixed to the front lit the way through the cobwebs and shadows of the unused walkways as it tread aimlessly through the maze of pits and cliffs. To the casual observer, it appeared to be a trash can lying on its side with slots and openings on its sides for various implements and limbs. Such would be an understatement of its true nature, yet it would still be an apt description.

As it traversed the underworld, the robot pondered, for it indeed was sentient, the perplexing fate of those around her in relation to her own existence. She knew not how she arrived here nor how she was able to wander freely while everyone else seemed to be shackled visibly or not. She moved past dark passages extending infinitely in all directions, her curiosity dampened by an unshakable fear of the unknown. Time and space passed by her, though the former affected her not. Eventually, she found herself in a room, unlike all the others she had passed. This one was filled with rows of coffins, each made of various types of stone, each filled with a screaming individual. All but one were wrapped in barbed wire, chains, or thick rope, designed to imprison their occupant while indicating their sins. One, however, sat alone, wrapped not in crude man-made restraints, but rather in a thin layer of shimmering silk, decorated with an infinite pattern of swirls and wisps. The machine felt drawn, inexplicably, to the box, rolling carefully up to it and pushing aside the silk to view the motif carved into the obsidian box.

The inscriptions were in a script unknown to her, yet the images told the story well enough. A woman, beautiful and strong, stood poised over a man, holding a sharpened dagger dripping with blood. The man lay dead, eyes wide open in silenced rage, his own dagger still clutched in his hand. The next image was of her, kneeling, weeping, filled with sorrow and regret, a shell of her former self. The robot's curiosity was thus increased, and without reading any of the other images, she carefully pulled the silk away from the lid and lifted. She lifted a light up and peered into the darkness, at first seeing nothing but shadows. As she moved the light, a white figure, near invisible with its transparency, rushed at her with a mighty wail. However, as it impacted the metallic shell of the machine, it disappeared entirely from sight. She panicked momentarily, slamming the lid closed and rushing out of the room, lifting herself upright into a shadowy corner in the hallway. The seconds ticked by, though in the land where she now was, those seconds could have been eons. When nothing further occurred, she released some pent up steam in relief, returning to her natural traveling position and moving down the hall.

She continued moving through the passages, always in the same direction, always looking for a path upward. Various demons and guards gave her a momentary look as she passed by, though no one bothered her as per usual. Almost without warning, she found herself at the end of the hallway, standing on a balcony overlooking a pair of cliffs. One stretched above and below her, infinite in all directions. Across the chasm stood a second cliff, similar in composition and equal in height and width. She scanned the cliff face across from her, only to find no openings or cracks that might lead somewhere. Out of nowhere, a voice, minuscule and barely audible whispered in her auditory sensors, indicating that she should look closer at her side of the cliff. Though confused, the robot complied. To her joy, she noticed a path carved in the same rock face where she now stood, one end beginning immediately to her right.

With apt enthusiasm, she moved along it at her normal speed, careful to not disturb any loose stones on either side of the path or to edge too close to the sheer face of the cliff. The path was seemingly endless, stretching behind and in front of her as far as the slow curve of the cliff would allow her to see. Yet, despite the lack of hope for anything at the end of her path, she trekked onward, never ceasing. Another eon passed, neither her surroundings nor the path changing in the least, until finally, she could spy a minuscule blip on the opposite cliff face a great distance away. She rushed forward, consciously watching the path and the cliff for any dangerous sections, until she was faced with an elaborate and ornate bridge spanning the chasm.

She arrived at the end of the path and was annoyed to find not a stone walkway across the chasm, but a passage for a body of water, ominous and dark. She peered closer at it, the inky blackness unlike anything she had ever seen. She reached out a probe slowly, stopping only when an unexpected voice once again pierced the silence, warning her of impending doom should she continue with her current course of action. Innocent and naive, she obeyed, trusting the unusual voice she could not explain. Again the voice spoke, urging her to wait patiently until a certain traveler arrived to cross the chasm, and as before, she complied.

She passed the time observing her surroundings, realizing that the body of water stretched infinitely into each rock face, passing through carved tunnels lined with corpses, bones, and impaled souls. It was a macabre scene, and if she had understood its implications, she might have felt fear and apprehension. As it was, she merely felt further curiosity. What had these people done to deserve such a fate? Who had enacted such terrors upon these men, women, and children? Furthermore, what did it imply for her?

Her thoughts were cut short as she saw a vessel, carved out of timber as black as the river it rode on, its single passenger robed in black and emanating smoke. As it passed, she carefully reached out with several arms and pulled herself aboard, careful to touch nothing but the timber. The thing at the helm hardly noticed her presence, staring her way for a moment before returning to the river ahead. She scanned the boat, noticing the oddity of it all. Though there was no sail nor any other methods of self propulsion, the ship moved steadily forward. Furthermore, the surface of the water was perfectly calm, showing no signs of currents nor machinery pulling them forward. Realizing the futility of her attempts at observations, she returned her eyes to the scenery.

The tunnel began to expand as they moved onward, opening into a gigantic cavern, the ceiling covered in spikes and cracks, evidence of time's harsh treatment. The river opened into a lake, infinitely wide and deep, the very sight of which would bring fear to an ordinary man. She, however, was not a man, and thus not able to succumb to fear based on a lake alone. It would take far more than that to shake her. Most peculiar about the setting was the silence. Nothing could be heard, the wails of the damned long since left behind. Neither the boat nor her master made a sound either, leaving the robot to be the sole creator of noise within the dimly lit realm. Every move, every click, every wheeze seemed like an insult to the silence, forcing her to remain perfectly still, eyes locked on the path the boat took forward. Mist, thick and oppressive, began to form around them, masking the water and dimming the light even further. The boatman, however, seemed to not be phased by the unusual turn of events, steering them forward with perfect confidence in the route.

His confidence was well founded, for mere moments later, she found herself staring at a wooden dock, dilapidated and forgotten, lit by a single lantern giving off blue light. The boat came to a stop, and she departed, glad to be rid of the strange vehicle. Figures, thin and forgotten, stood at the end of the dock, waiting for her to depart. As she rode by, she looked into their eyes, each dim and distant, as though all life had been sucked from them. She looked away quickly and moved forward quickly, even more glad to leave the whole scene behind. A path, paved with wide blocks of limestone, stretched forward in a perfectly even path which sloped upward and onward. Though she knew not what lay ahead of her, she moved towards it, the voice in her ears growing stronger with every revolution of her wheels.

The walls of the cave began to narrow, coming to a focal point in front of her, marked with an archway leading into yet another tunnel, this one a ramp leading sharply up. As she moved hesitantly into it, she noticed lanterns, each sporting a similar yet brighter blue flame as per before, placed evenly along the passage walls, lighting her way. She rolled up, staring at carvings and motifs of wars, murders, rapes, and lies, each perpetrated by yet another soul damned to eternal torment. A light, white and pure, began to filter through the darkness, the source of which lay somewhere upward and ahead of her. She put as much effort as she could into moving quickly, urged on by an invisible force crying urgency.

With a creak and a crash, the robot found herself leaping out of the tunnel into broad daylight, the sun and sky and clouds a great delight to her worn down soul. She pulled herself forward, basking in her new surroundings and hoping nothing would ruin the moment. Fate, however, was not smiling upon her as she felt a strange presence leave her shell and form in the air before her. A woman, kind yet cruel, stood before her, transparent and silent. The machine recognized her as the woman on the obsidian box, the one contained within the coffin she had opened. The specter opened her mouth in a silent laugh before glowing brightly, flesh and bone writhing itself together around her. Within seconds, she had been reincarnated from death eternal, a feat not done before, an act which brought horror to the machine. The woman spoke, her voice sharp and horrible, each word dripping with dual meanings and lies. Gratitude she spoke of, kindness and joy mixed within it, but something about her tone, the sneer she could not contain showed her true nature. The machine cycled through infinite options as to what to do. It was obvious the woman in front of her was not meant to be up in this world, and likewise, she seemed to believe that the machine was some form of cursed man, unaware of the advent of such technology. Though she continued to speak, the robot eyed the distance between the woman and a shaft behind her. The shaft was smooth on the edges, designed for simple and quick transport of bodies into the underworld for processing.

Though it pained the machine to enact such a horrible plan, she rushed forward, the element of surprise serving her well, shoving the woman into the hole. The wail she emitted shook the very earth beneath the machine's wheels, the curses vibrating the air around her. With a resounding crack, the ground gave way, darkness below swallowing up the metallic figure which had once sat at the edge of the chasm.

Screams and wails filled the air, thick enough to taste. The flames licked at everything that moved, inflicting pain and misery in quantities unheard of on the world above. Decaying structures, constructed from the very bones and souls of those sentenced to the brimstone prison, littered the landscape, maintained by men turned slaves. Hope and joy were nonexistent, ground out of each and every tortured soul sentenced to their self-inflicted fate. This was Hell, the ultimate incarceration.

Amidst all the agony moved a lone creature, neither man nor beast, ignored by the demons that roamed and the men that suffered.