The gate between worlds opened with a snap of infernal energy as Kikidori stepped through and returned to the cracked and blazing sidewalks of Hell.
His boots echoed down the red obsidian streets, flame licking the gutters, ash raining like snow. The sky was black, but lit by the soft red glow of eternal torment. Screams echoed from alleyways, and the air always smelled like sulfur, blood, and bad decisions.
"Home sweet home," Kikidori muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as he passed the usual scenes.
Two demons were beating the ever-loving hell out of some poor soul—literally. One demon shot another in the face just to watch his head pop and grow back. A succubus blew a kiss to him, and two porn-star demons in half-burnt lingerie waved at him from the doorway of some neon-lit sin-den. A guy was getting eaten alive by fire-bugs. Normal. Hell.
But Kikidori didn't stop to enjoy any of it.
He was *bored*.
He was *itching*.
He wanted to *laugh*.
And that's when the idea struck.
The *worst*, most *insane*, most *blasphemous* idea he'd ever had.
He burst out laughing in the middle of the street.
"What if…" he said aloud, grinning like a maniac, "I go to Heaven… as *one of them*?"
The streets around him grew quiet for a moment. Even the firebugs stopped chewing on that guy's kneecaps.
"Holy shit," Kikidori whispered. "Let's do it."
---
Three hours later, the dumbest demon in existence was standing in front of Heaven's gate wearing a pristine white robe, golden temporary dye in his hair, fake wings made of light magic, and a smile so wide it made the archangel guard suspicious on sight.
He'd actually *practiced smiling* in front of a mirror. It looked painful.
"Uh… greetings, brother," he said in a horrendously exaggerated heavenly tone.
The two gatekeepers exchanged glances.
"Who the hell are you?" one asked.
Kikidori cleared his throat. "I am… *Gabrionel*. Yes. Gabrionel. Newly promoted from cloud sanitation to… um… upper-tier compassion observation."
"Never heard of you," the second guard muttered, eyeing him.
"Well, I've been… under divine radar. Very discreet." He winked so badly it looked like he had dust in his eye.
The gatekeepers narrowed their eyes, but Heaven, being Heaven, wasn't exactly a place of paranoia. Especially since, to their senses, he did have the right glow, the aura of peace—fake, of course, but close enough.
With a hesitant shrug, they let him through.
The gates opened.
Kikidori stepped into *Heaven*.
And his first thought was:
*"Fuck, this place is bright."*
Everything shimmered. The walkways were made of crystal glass that chimed like bells when you stepped on it. The trees whispered songs in languages older than stars. The air tasted like hope and honey and warm hugs.
Kikidori squinted. "Ugh. It's like a toothpaste commercial had sex with a lullaby."
He wandered the gardens, nodding at passing angels. They nodded back, confused but too polite to question him.
Then the *havoc* began.
Not on purpose.
No. Never on purpose.
He just… happened to trip and knock over a tower of harp-flowers some angel had spent two hundred years growing. *Crash.*
"Oopsie!" he said, waving awkwardly.
He wandered into a Hall of Records and touched an orb that triggered a spiritual alarm, erasing the memory of a long-dead prophet for three minutes. It got fixed. But *still*.
He sat on a floating fountain and didn't realize it was the *Cleansing Pool of Sainted Souls*, which he accidentally pissed in. The water boiled and turned pink.
"Oh, my bad!" he laughed, jogging away.
He shook hands with a choir seraph and somehow triggered a feedback loop in the sound waves that made every angel in the city hiccup at the exact same time.
He tripped on cloud stairs.
He spilled ambrosia on an elder angel's robe.
He called someone "big feathery boy."
*And he smiled through it all.*
By the time he got to the edge of the Golden Sea, he was humming a heavenly tune he'd heard once and completely butchering it. Angels were murmuring, whispering, watching him from a distance.
He sat down in the golden sand, his face glowing with pride.
"That," he said to himself, "was *amazing*. Heaven is a lot less guarded than I thought. And a lot easier to mess with. Not bad for a demon in drag."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small scroll he'd "borrowed" from the archives—nothing dangerous, but still, it made him giggle.
"I should come back next week."
And just then, a voice echoed behind him.
"Seventy times seven," it said gently.
Kikidori froze.
He turned his head slowly… and saw *God's Light*.
Not fully. Not completely. Just a shimmer. A whisper. A fraction.
It radiated… *amusement*.
Kikidori blinked. "Wait. You *saw all of that*?"
The light pulsed gently.
**"Every step."**
He laughed awkwardly. "So… uh… I didn't *mean* to cause trouble. I was just… bored. Creative chaos. You know how it is."
Silence.
Then… a feeling.
Forgiveness.
Gentle.
Amused.
Unbothered.
Kikidori felt it deep in his bones, and it made him twitch.
"Goddamn it, don't forgive me, that's worse!" he shouted, standing up. "I dressed like an angel! I pretended to be one of *yours*! I peed in your soul water!"
**"Seventy times seven,"** the voice said again.
Kikidori gritted his teeth. "You're lucky I'm not offended by mercy."
Then the light faded.
And the angels came running.
Kikidori sprinted for the exit, cackling the entire way.
He dove through the clouds, wings vanishing, dye melting off his hair, and fell laughing all the way back to Hell.
"This," he said breathlessly, "was the best day *ever*."
The end of chapter 8.