Type of setting: Abyssal realm / Deadly Sins Kingdom
Characters living/working in this setting
Prince of Envy - Leviathan (formerly Haniel)
Envyborn demons – twisted beings who embody covetous hunger
Specters of the jealous dead. Mortal shades consumed by what they could not have in life
The Abyssal Regents – rulers of the cliffside towers, each representing a different face of envy (possessiveness, greed, resentment)
Bianca Moore (briefly, after escaping the Study during the Nibelheim Incident)
Summary
The Kingdom of Envy lies within the Abyssal Realm, a land carved from resentment and covetous desire. Here, envy is not an emotion but a landscape: dark valleys hollowed by want, rivers that run bitter as bile, and cliffs where towers of jealousy claw at the sky. When not in their personal hell, souls trapped here labor endlessly for things they can never grasp, while demons feed on their longing.
When Bianca stumbles through a portal into this place during Blood and Stardust, she feels the weight of mortal jealousy pressing against her very spirit, reminding her of humanity’s hunger for the divine and the curse of always desiring more.
NOTE: The following does NOT cover the personal hell that each sinner experiences.
Basics
Building type: Towers of Envy (fortresses carved from black stone cliffs)
Levels: Caverns, valleys, bitter rivers, cliffside fortresses
City / Town: None—fragmented demonic fiefdoms rather than cities
Suburb / District: Fields of Discontent (wasteland of endless labor)
Street & Number: Not applicable (paths are shifting and treacherous)
Neighbourhood
Life in the Kingdom of Envy is suffocating. Every soul is caught in endless struggle: scraping, climbing, reaching for something they will never hold. There are no streetlights, no respite, and no peace. There are only flickers of ghostly green fire that sputter and fade. Shadows jealously guard what little they have. There are no gangs in the traditional sense, but the very environment is hostile, as every inhabitant competes with the next in bitter futility. To live here is to ache with unfulfilled longing.
Neighbours
The neighbours of this place are the Envyborn demons and the hollowed shades of mortals. They whisper accusations and comparisons and are forever obsessed with others’ power, beauty, or freedom. They are never satisfied and never kind. Demons will try to lure outsiders with false promises of granting their deepest desires, only to twist those desires into shackles. Companionship is shallow and poisoned, as even allies look at one another with covetous eyes.
Setting Detail
Overall feeling: Oppressive, suffocating, bitter. This is a realm that gnaws at the soul by reminding it of what it lacks.
Sights: Dark valleys stretching into voids, Bitter rivers glowing faintly green, churning with resentment, Caves where walls shimmer with illusions of treasures and lives one cannot touch, Towers clinging to cliffs like claws, their windows blazing with jealous green light
Sounds: Whispers of longing, muttered comparisons, voices that echo: “Why not you?”, The scraping of claws on stone, endless labor in the Fields of Discontent, Rivers bubbling like bile, hissing as they flow, The mournful moans of souls who can never rest
Smells: Sour air, like metal and bile, Acrid smoke rising from abyssal cracks, Occasional sweetness. This is illusory, fleeting, and gone before it’s savored
Miscellaneous notes:
Nothing ever grows here. The soil is ash and salt, resistant to life.
The closer one gets to the towers, the more the landscape shows them visions of what they envy most.
Travelers risk being trapped by their own desires, bound to the realm as another whispering shade.
To Bianca, this realm mirrors humanity’s envy of the divine: a hunger that corrodes the soul when unchecked.
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Yours truly has decided to participate in EXEtober! I don't exactly have the greatest track record with this kind of stuff, but... come on, it's soinc dot exe, of course I had to at least try!
These are my takes on the first five prompts! And because I have a lot of .EXE-adjacent works that aren't directly tied to Sonic.exe, I decided they deserve some love as well!
(TW: gore, blood, suffocation)
And here is the prompt list, for context! (Image not made by me)
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{ @kaiju-crimson-storyandask wjkadhja oh the poor baby--- }
"Oh now you have a fear, Deputy? You didn't think there'd be consequences for injuring my OLDEST BROTHER?! Joseph will be proud of the work I did to that Hudson, you know. Wonderful, gorgeous art piece of a vivisection to display to Joseph. You'll be impressed at how good with a blade I am... I didn't break a single vein, you know. She survived so long, eventually succumbing to suffocation. Can you imagine that, Deputy? All of this could have been avoided had you not taking my oldest brothers eye. I can't wait for you to see her, Deputy."
Somehow, she was alive. Despite it all, despite the storm, the fights, the mutts, Mercuria was fully, and truly alive. Her breath was shallow, but she was atop the mountain, finally, difficultly, impossibly. She had made it. Through pythons, through Helios, through it all. And she was alive.
It was serene at the top of the mountain. It was a bizarre, alien sensation after the past three days she had lived through. It was a momentary reprieve, a breath. At the top, the mist of the storm could still be seen rolling around the sea, shrouding the various islands in a mysterious fog. The atoll was washed clean away, the wreck of the ship fully swallowed by the waves. It was easy to see all the places she had been, and the few that she had not. What a concept - there were six people left alive and there were parts of the Arena she hadn't even seen yet.
It seemed so peaceful, for a moment, that she was startled to shriek when the Panem National Anthem blared. Had night fallen that fast? That she'd be alone - truly, deeply alone - for the first time in the Arena? She craned her neck up, but it wasn't much. She had never been this close to the sky. In all her life, living in the mines, she had been down. Head down, in the earth. To be here now, on the precipice of the sky, where she could almost touch it... was unreal.
Her breath caught in her throat as Callisto's face illuminated the sky. Instantly, she heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn't at Callisto's expense. But what it meant was, with only two cannons, at least one Berry was alive. Slate's odds had skyrocketed, just by having a District One Tribute out. Not out - dead. That fact stuck the sigh in her throat, even as the second face - Flora Faye of District Seven - appeared. They were still alive. Nettle, Bramble, and Slate. Somewhere in the Arena, all three were still alive. And they would know now, that she, too, was doing her best to stay alive. That left Helios and Mars. Two Careers, both hellbent on getting home. Those two and whatever fresh horrors the Gamemakers had in store.
They were close.
It was time, then, to try to rest. But sleep was never an option. Mercuria found herself a small overhang, lest more rain start falling, and nestled in. She was just letting her eyes flutter shut when she felt it.
The smallest, tiniest pinprick in her wrist. In any other universe, she would have thought nothing of it. Back in Twelve, things bit her all the time. Mites and mosquitoes were everywhere. But this was the Arena. This was the Hunger Games. Mercuria raised her hand and saw it: a spider, no bigger than anything she had seen before, almost small. Bright, electric yellow dots dusted an otherwise jet black body. If it weren't for those dots, she wouldn't have seen it at all in the fading light of the evening.
But she felt it immediately. Like acid coursing through her veins, the toxin shot to her heart faster than she could cry out. She had only a moment to make a decision, and she did: she raised her hand above her hand, showing the spider to the sky. She felt the venom course faster, encouraged by gravity to speed along. But if she were to survive this, she would need help.
It was less than a minute later that the coughing started. Her throat slowly started to squeeze together, even as her salivary glands kicked into overdrive. Drool started pooling in her mouth, spilling out in flecks and puddles onto the ground in front of her. She fell to her knees, and the offending creature scuttled away, seemingly happy to have done it's job.
Convulsions came next, starting as a tremor in the hand that was bit. It ricocheted across her body, leaving her heaving in terror on the ground. She thought maybe, just maybe she could survive this, but then her vision started to fade. Flicker. Bob in and out. How? How had she gotten this close, this far, this place... only to be taken out by a spider? Perhaps that's what they wanted to see, out there. This was the gripping drama. Perhaps the Gamemakers were pushing to a finale and had deemed her uninteresting. Too far out from the others to be useful in the final fight. Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps. A thousand perhapses tumbled through her mind as she clawed at the ground, trying to find a way to relieve the intense pain that was building in her chest.
It had to be over soon, she wagered. Unless this was a particularly sick Gamemaker. Maybe that was it. A slow venom to kill. A worthwhile moment of television. If so, no. She would not give it to them. She rolled onto her side, cradling her arm close to herself. Even as the venom forced the occasional, involuntary kick or spasm, she would not show them her face. They would not get to see. This, she would keep private.
Then she heard the familiar ding! ding! that she had been so blessed with throughout her time. A gift. But what could would it do now? Perhaps it was a knife, something to end this suffering faster. It didn't matter. She heard the soft thump as the canister landed beside her. She fought her own muscles to get a hold of it and twist it open. A small boxed meal tumbled out. Useless. How unfortunate - someone had wasted their money sending her a meal that she'd never get to eat. And there was no one around to even pass it along to, if she could have done so.
She went to drop the canister by her side and accept her death when a small vial tumbled out. It was tiny - no more than a few drops of whatever liquid was in it. She grabbed at it. No knife, but fine - a poison may as well be the same. She had no regard. No thoughts. Maybe it was a pain reliever, meant to ease her passage. Maybe it was poison to speed it along. Who cared at this point? She struggled to get the lid off and downed the full contents, just barely squeezing it past her tightening trachea.
Instantly, the effects of the spider bite reversed. It was as if she had swallowed pure aloe; the acidity in her bloodstream evaporated and her throat opened as if she had never had trouble breathing ever in her life. If anything, her lungs were free even of the slight cough all miners had. She glanced down at the bottle to see a very simple word: antivenom. How wonderful, how horrific, that these bottles existed at all, ready at a moment's notice to be sent to Tributes. If the price was right.
She scrambled for the canister and found the note from Mahlon. No - from the entire District. How late had he been up? How closely had he been watching? That he could see the need, identify the cause, and send the relief? It didn't matter. Or rather, it did, but it was unexplainable. She burst into tears, found her way to her knees, and put up her hands in thanks before turning to the meal.
