The corridor leading to the next chamber was eerily quiet, the sound of the group’s footsteps muffled as if the very air resisted movement. Selene guided them into a vast room where two statues stood side by side, their stark differences highlighting their unique natures.

On the left was Mammon, the Prince of Greed. His statue radiated an aura of wealth and excess, adorned with intricately carved treasures—gold coins, jewels, and crowns—scattered at his feet. Mammon’s figure was imposing, his eyes glittering with a cold, calculating light. His outstretched hand clutched a golden scepter, and his mouth curved into a predatory smile, as if mocking those who sought what he possessed.

On the right stood Belphegor, the Prince of Sloth. His statue was a stark contrast to Mammon’s opulence. Belphegor lounged on a throne of stone, his posture languid and indifferent. His half-closed eyes gave him an air of boredom, and his disheveled appearance suggested apathy. Around him were scattered broken tools and half-finished creations, symbols of abandoned potential.

Selene turned to face the group, her expression grave. “These are Mammon and Belphegor—the embodiments of greed and sloth. Though they are opposites in many ways, their influence is equally insidious.”

Selene began with Mammon, her voice steady but tinged with disdain. “Before his fall, Mammon was known as Makariel, an angel of prosperity and abundance. His role was to ensure that resources were distributed fairly among mortals, to foster harmony and gratitude. He was a symbol of generosity and balance.”

Jack furrowed his brow. “If he was all about balance, how did he end up like… this?”

Selene sighed. “Makariel’s downfall began with pride. He took great satisfaction in his role, but over time, he began to see himself as more than a steward. He believed that abundance was his to control, that he was entitled to the wealth he distributed. His sense of ownership grew, and with it, his greed.”

“As Makariel’s greed festered, he started to hoard the blessings meant for others,” Selene continued. “He withheld gifts from mortals, amassing treasures for himself. When confronted, he claimed he was safeguarding the riches, that mortals were unworthy of such abundance. His justification masked his true intent—he wanted it all for himself.”

Emma shook her head. “But wouldn’t the Creator see through his lies?”

“Of course,” Selene said. “When the Creator stripped him of his role, Makariel refused to repent. He argued that mortals were wasteful and undeserving, that only he understood the true value of wealth. His arrogance and greed led to his exile, and as he fell, he transformed into Mammon—the Prince of Greed.”

“In Hell, Mammon’s domain is a realm of endless riches,” Selene explained. “But these treasures are cursed, bringing misery to all who claim them. Souls condemned to his realm are driven mad by their insatiable hunger for wealth, forever clutching at gold that crumbles to ash in their hands.”

Tom shivered. “That sounds like torture.”

“It is,” Selene said. “Mammon’s power lies in his ability to corrupt. He whispers promises of wealth and prosperity, planting seeds of greed in the hearts of mortals. He doesn’t need to force anyone to act—their own desires do the work for him.”

“Mammon’s influence is evident in the mortal world,” Selene continued. “Every act of corruption, every war fought over resources, every life destroyed by greed—it all feeds his power. He preys on the fear of scarcity, turning generosity into selfishness and gratitude into entitlement.”

Jack clenched his fists. “So he’s not just about money. He’s about wanting more, no matter what.”

“Exactly,” Selene said. “Greed is not just a desire for wealth—it’s an endless hunger that can never be satisfied. And that is Mammon’s curse: no matter how much he possesses, it will never be enough.”

Selene turned to the statue of Belphegor, her tone shifting to one of quiet sorrow. “Belphegor’s story is different. Before his fall, he was known as Barachiel, an angel of invention and progress. His purpose was to inspire creativity and innovation, to help mortals realize their potential and build a better world.”

Claire frowned. “He doesn’t look very… inspired.”

Selene nodded. “That’s because Barachiel’s gift became his burden. He was so consumed by the possibilities of what could be that he lost sight of the present. His visions of the future overwhelmed him, and he began to withdraw, paralyzed by the weight of his own expectations.”

“Barachiel’s withdrawal turned into apathy,” Selene continued. “He stopped guiding mortals, leaving them to flounder without his inspiration. When the Creator sought to understand his neglect, Barachiel dismissed it as futile, claiming that mortals were incapable of achieving the greatness he envisioned.”

Emma’s voice softened. “So he gave up on them?”

“Not just on them,” Selene said. “He gave up on himself. His despair and apathy grew until they consumed him, and he was cast out of Heaven. As he fell, Barachiel became Belphegor—the Prince of Sloth, a being who embodies the abandonment of effort and ambition.”

“Belphegor’s realm is a wasteland of unrealized potential,” Selene explained. “It is filled with half-built structures, unfinished creations, and abandoned dreams. Souls condemned to his domain are trapped in endless stagnation, unable to muster the will to act or move forward.”

Tom frowned. “That sounds… depressing.”

“It is,” Selene said. “Sloth is not merely laziness—it is the surrender of purpose, the refusal to strive for anything greater. Belphegor feeds on despair, convincing mortals that their efforts are meaningless, that nothing they do will ever matter.”

“Belphegor’s apathy is his greatest weapon,” Selene continued. “He saps the will of mortals, leaving them directionless and defeated. His whispers are subtle, planting doubts and fears that grow until they choke out ambition. He doesn’t force anyone to stop trying—they simply lose the will to begin.”

Claire’s voice was quiet. “But doesn’t that make him… lonely?”

Selene hesitated. “Perhaps. There are moments when Belphegor seems to long for the spark of inspiration he once nurtured. But his despair runs deep, and he has embraced his role as the Prince of Sloth, spreading his apathy to others.”

Selene stepped back, her gaze moving between the two statues. “Mammon and Belphegor represent two sides of the same coin. Greed drives one to take more than they need, while sloth convinces one to give up entirely. Both are destructive forces that erode the soul, leaving only emptiness behind.”

The group stood in silence, the weight of Selene’s words sinking in.

Jack stared at the statues, his thoughts churning. Mammon and Belphegor were not just devils—they were reflections of humanity’s flaws, reminders of the dangers of excess and inaction.

As they left the chamber, the oppressive atmosphere began to lift, replaced by the faint, ever-present hum of Hell’s labyrinth. Selene’s words lingered in their minds, a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between ambition and contentment, effort and rest. The journey through Hell was not just revealing the nature of its princes—it was forcing the group to confront the vulnerabilities within themselves.