Note: This chapter has not gone to my editors and events may change before final release. The below is also unedited and in a raw non-polished form.

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Darkness surrounded Toaby. He could still see his different interface options like his health and stamina bar, both of which were completely grayed out, but nothing else. Walking forward, he used the rough rock walls at his sides to guide him through the hallway. After taking only a few steps, he came to a smooth, stony surface. He tried pushing on it but nothing happened.

“Hello?” He banged against the smooth surface, hoping it was a door.

The wall slid into the floor. As soon as pulled from the ceiling, it allowed a rush of light in. He was standing in a small three by six-foot room made entirely of room. The room opened to a staircase going downward into a massive cave. Dozens of torches and braziers lit the room.

The chamber was roughly the size of a domed football stadium. Aside from the smooth stone floor, the rest of the room was completely comprised of rock. Skeletons, broken armor and weapons, smashed pots, ruined instruments and skeletons were scattered throughout. Ghostly figures of men, woman, and beasts roamed around without purpose.

That normally would be enough to draw Toaby’s attention, but the massive building sized throne on the opposing side of the room was holding his attention. To be more precise, the giant woman sitting upon the throne is what captivated him.

“Come, so I may judge you.” The woman called out for him. Her voice was raspy and made his skin crawl.

Having no better option, he approached. When he crossed most of the room, he called back to her. “Hello?”

“Another Human. Dishonorable like the rest of your kind. The filth of Midgard.” She waved her hand and a circle of ghostly Human zombies appeared around Toaby. “I shall throw you in with the rest until your rebirth.”

“No, wait!” Toaby pleaded. “I’m not like the rest. I’m an arbiter. I’m good, I swear.”

“An arbiter?” The woman leaned forward in her throne. The flesh of her face was drooping, ready to fall to the floor. One of her eye sockets was empty, and the other was glassed over. “What is an arbiter doing here in Helheim? Did you break your oath?”

“NO! I don’t know what I’m doing here. I was on Midgard and then I lost a fight with a squirrel.”

The massive woman threw her head back and cackled. “A squirrel?” She looked down at him and he nodded. This caused her to double her cackling efforts.

“Hey. Where I come from, a squirrel can’t bite you to death in a few seconds. Well… not unless it bites your neck or something, but this one was just biting my forearm.”

The woman grabbed a glass orb from beside her throne. She whispered something at it and tossed it into the sky. The massive orb was the size of a pickup. Multi-colored sparks ignited in its center. The sparks quickly formed shapes and images. It was now replaying Toaby’s death in high-definition from his point-of-view.

As the second squirrel chewed on his forearm, the woman started laughing louder than before. “This is entertaining, I’ll give you that.”

“So glad I could entertain you.”

“It appears you’re new to Midgard. I haven’t seen a first death in some time. Most at least go after a wolf or bear but you…” she covered her mouth in a failed attempt to hide her laughter, “you died to a squirrel.” She gave up on any effort to hide her chuckling.

Toaby’s face dropped. “So where am I again? And how do I get out here?”

“You are in my realm. You are in Helheim. All dishonored dead come here for a time. I will take a portion of your experience on Midgard and hold you here for penance before releasing your spirit back to roam Midgard. Although if a squirrel bests you, I’m sure I’ll see you again shortly.” Her glassy eye glowed bright for a moment before returning to normal.

You have died, and Hel has judged you.

You have lost 3 experience and have received a death time of 1 Hour. You may skip your death timer if you pay double experience loss.

An icon of a ghost holding a clock appeared in the upper left of his vision near his grayed out health bar. It has a one hour timer counting down. He focused on it to get more information.

Death Timer: 59 minutes 43 seconds remaining

Do you wish to pay 3 experience to skip this timer?

Yes / No

He reached out and clicked on yes.

ERROR: Insufficient experience.

Guess I can’t skip the timer if I can’t pay for it. “So you’re the Goddess Hel?” Hel nodded. “What do I do for the next hour?”

“You will repent for your sins.” The ghostly figures around him closed in. They grabbed onto him. “Take him for penance.”

A loud horn rang out through the chamber. A swirling twenty foot tall portal appeared a few feet away from Toaby. Heimdall stepped through it holding his Gjallarhorn. The portal closed behind him as he exited.

He turned to face Hel. “Not this one, Hel. This one is our arbiter.”

“He speaks the truth?” She sounded genuinely surprised. “You trained an arbiter that can’t even kill a squirrel? Midgard will be in ruins.” She cackled. “Business will be good for me.”

“Release him, Hel.” Heimdall spoke in a firm tone.

“Yes, very well.” She waved her hand dismissively and the spirits holding onto Toaby turned to smoke and dissipated.

“Can someone PLEASE tell me what’s going on!?” Toaby shouted.

“Helheim is for dishonored dead. You are an arbiter. You do not belong here.” Heimdall blew his horn again and another rainbow portal appeared. He gestured for Toaby to enter.

“You’re not going to toss me into it this time, are you?” Toaby said sarcastically.

Heimdall chuckled. “No. You may walk through of your own volition. Unless you care to stay here?”

Toaby looked down at his stomach. He wasn’t getting a funny feeling like before, so he entered the portal. Shielding his eyes again from the bright light, he was back at Heimdall’s home. Only a few feet away from the chair and table that he received his arbiter class in.

“This is a much better environment.” Toaby commented.

“Thank you. I’ve spent many years on my garden.” Heimdall was standing nearby with the portal collapsing behind him.

“Care to explain what the hell just happened?”

“That exactly. Hell. As I showed you earlier, Helheim is a realm for the dishonored dead and Midgard is full of dishonorable people. The higher beings wanted to ensure that the people sent here paid for their crimes. How did they put it,” Heimdall scratched his chin in contemplation, “Ah, yes. They didn’t want Midgard to be a ‘get out of jail free card’. Whatever that means.”

“So when we die on Midgard we go to hell?”

“Helheim, yes. But only temporary. When you die, you are judged based on how honest a life you lived on Midgard. The less honorable you were, the more time you must spend in your own personal penance chamber. The more honorable you were, the less time you spend. Hel, the Goddess you spoke with, also absorbs some of the experience points you’ve earned. She uses it to fuel the magic used to create the personal prisons.”

“So when the timers up, we go back to Midgard?” Heimdall nodded. That’s fucked up. Techavant is literally torturing the people they got paid to send here.

“Is everything alright, arbiter?”

“Yeah. It’s a little messed up to think about people being tortured, though. I’m not sure I agree with it. It just feels a little wrong.”

Heimdall sat at the table, one chair morphing to fit his frame. He gestured for Toaby to sit across from him. “Please. Explain. Why does it feel wrong? They are wicked men, and so they are receiving what they deserve. It’s a matter of balancing the scales.”

“I get that, I do. Torture just seems wrong, regardless of who its happening to. Tortures bad, right?” Toaby raised his shoulders.

Clasping his hands together, Heimdall smiled. “I knew you would make a good choice for arbiter.”

Toaby’s stomach felt funny, and his notifications informed him that Heimdall was lying. He grabbed his stomach, still not used to the feeling, and stared deadpan back at Heimdall.

“Ok, ok.” Heimdall raised his hands defensively. “I was hoping you would make a good arbiter. Midgard is desperately in need of one, so I choose the first person that appeared decent. There. Happy. Honesty.”

“So why did you come to get me?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention? Helheim is for the dishonored dead. You are an arbiter. You do not belong there.”

“So what happens to me then?”

Heimdall gestured around his garden. “I shall allow you to stay here when you die. You can converse with me, train, or just relax. I will have to apply a penalty, just like Hel, based on your time in Midgard. I can not play favorites in Yggdrasil.”

“You’re literally pulling me out of hell,” Heimdall leaned forward to interrupt but Toaby corrected himself, “Helheim. Isn’t that playing favorites?”

“No. You simply do not belong there. But if you still think I’m playing favorites.” He grabbed his horn and held it up for Toaby to see. “I could always return to you Hel’s custody.”

Toaby’s eyes went wide. “No. That’s fine. You’re not playing favorites. The most fair God I’ve ever met.” They both lightly chuckled. “What about my equipment?”

“What do you mean?”

“I died. Do I keep my equipment or do I lose it?” He gestured at himself. His leather armor and axes were gone. He wasn’t wearing anything other than a basic shit and a pair of shorts.

“Ahh.” Heimdall blew his horn and all of Toaby’s equipment reappeared on his body. Including the squirrel meat that was now rotten. “When you die, your body will remain for several minutes. This allows anything or anyone that killed you to take whatever they may please. That is why you appeared wearing basic clothing in Helheim. I have returned them to you because the proper amount of time on Midgard has elapsed.”

“Is there anyway I can keep my gear?”

Heimdall nodded. “Special equipment and items are able to bind with your soul and follow you through death.”

That must be like soul-bound items in other games. He pulled up his equipment and noticed some of it took durability damage. He checked his log to see what caused it.

A Wild Squirrel has bit you for 2 piercing damage.

You have died!

Your Leather Tunic has suffered 1 point of durability damage.

Your Leather Trousers have suffered 1 point of durability damage.

Looks like death causes some durability damage as well. Seems a bit harsh, but this is a virtual prison after all. “Heimdall. Do you have any tips or advice for me? I died to a squirrel. If I can’t kill a squirrel, how am I suppose to enforce the laws of the land?”

“I already informed you. I can not play favorites. You must gain your strength like all others.”

“Did you miss the part where a squirrel killed me?”

“No. That was quite humorous.” He stood and walked gingerly through his garden, admiring its beauty. “Before this garden, I never knew how to grow anything. When I first started it, all my plants died. I couldn’t even grow the most basic flowers. But I didn’t give up. I continued to try and try. I failed a lot, but eventually I gained the skills needed to build a generous garden.”

“So I need to keep failing? Yeah. That’s grrrrreeeeeaaat advice.”

Heimdall just smiled down at him. “You’ll see. Keep trying new things to develop your skills.”

A loud gong rang out. It felt like it was coming from inside Toaby’s head.

“What’s that?”

“Your time here is up. I wish you well back in Midgard.”

Before Toaby could respond, his vision blurred in a swirl of rainbow lights.