Deathnibbles watched Glenn demanding to speak to Lilith like he owned the PITT. And then he was gone.

  The squirrel sat on a stone bench, tail flicking so fast anxiously it blurred. Oba Ifekudu was nearby, sharpening his spear in slow, deliberate strokes. Atsumori had produced a small bamboo flute from somewhere inside his armor and was playing a soft, haunting melody that somehow cut through the muffled roar of the arena.

  The notes wrapped around Deathnibbles like they were almost trying to tell him something. His heartbeat started to slow. His claws stopped tapping.

  He hopped closer to Atsumori’s knee and just… listened.

  For a moment, he wasn’t in a hell-city or a tournament. He was back in trees with wind and sunlight, before Hades’ scythe, before Bakunawa, before gods and offices.

  The tunnel door whooshed open.

  Glenn came back in, cloak trailing behind him. The flute fell quiet.

  “Well?” Karna asked.

  Glenn’s eyes were bright with something between nerves and stubbornness. “They agreed.”

  He opened his hands.

  Five tiny, glowing earpieces floated above his palms like little hooks of light and metal.

  Oba leaned in. “What is this?”

  “A way to talk to each other during the matches,” Glenn said. “Quietly. Directly. Every challenge has a way through it. If we put our heads together, we can hear the pattern faster.”

  Atsumori frowned. “And the gods of death allow this?”

  Glenn grimaced. “They do. Because now…” He tapped one earpiece. “They can listen in too.”

  Oba recoiled. “That is your great plan? To let them hear everything we’re thinking?”

  “Exactly,” Glenn said.

  They stared at him.

  “No more sneaking around. No more pretending this is fair,” Glenn went on. “We attack head-on. We tell the truth out loud and beat them anyway. We show them what honest management looks like.”

  Karna’s eyes lit. He grabbed one earpiece and hooked it over his ear. “I see. Open conflict. No whispering in corners. This is fair.”

  Atsumori took one, then Oba, grumbling the whole time.

  Deathnibbles reached out and snagged the tiniest one. It settled into his fur, humming against the side of his head.

  Glenn tucked the last into his own ear. “We’re with each other in there,” he said. “No one faces a demon alone.”

  The loudspeakers crackled.

  “Next up,” Lilith sang from the arena, “we have our smallest underdog with the biggest corporate ladder to clinb… DEATHNIBBLES OF THE REAPER CORPS!”

  The waiting room turned to look at him.

  Four towering legendary heroes.

  One squirrel.

  Deathnibbles swallowed. His tail puffed out.

  Glenn crouched down so they were eye to eye and pointed to his ear. “We’re right here,” he said. “All of us.”

  Karna gave a warrior’s nod. Atsumori bowed. Oba shrugged, which was as good as a blessing from him. Deathnibbles squared his tiny shoulders and scampered toward the tunnel.

  The arena exploded with laughter as soon as he trotted out.

  “There he is!” Lilith cried. “The union-starting, demon-defying, emotionally volatile rodent of the hour!”

  Even some of the gods were smiling. Ekwensu was already wheezing with laughter, wiping his eyes.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got for you, little one,” Lilith purred. “Your adversary today… well. Maybe not an adversary. Maybe… a family reunion.”

  The ground around Deathnibbles trembled.

  Seven small shapes rose from the stone in a circle around him and seven squirrels in tiny black robes, hoods up. Each robe bore a symbol stitched over the heart: a shining eye, a heart, an open book, a broken chain, interlocking circles, a starburst, an empty circle.

  Deathnibbles froze.

  They smelled like home. Like leaves and smoke and fur and the hollow in the tree he used to sleep in.

  He squeaked, throat tight.

  “Easy,” Glenn’s voice came faintly through the earpiece. “Remember: You have your family’s souls in the scythe. They’re safe. These are tests.”

  Deathnibbles blinked hard and looked again.

  The seven squirrels’ eyes were wrong. Too bright, too ancient. They were demons wearing familiar faces.

  Atsumori’s voice floated in next. “Look at their robes. The symbols.”

  Deathnibbles squinted.

  Karna hummed in his ear. “Quest. Love. Knowledge. Detachment. Unity. Wonderment. Poverty and nothingness. I’ve heard of this. An old Persian tale, carried east and west. Seven valleys. Seven ways the soul moves through suffering.”

  “Squeak?” Deathnibbles squeaked under his breath.

  “I could be wrong, but I think you have to beat them one at a time,” Karna said. “In that order.”

  “There is nothing else to go on so let’s run with that for now.” Glenn stated over the mic.

  The first robed squirrel stepped forward. On its chest, the symbol of a rising path.

  Quest.

  It lowered its hood. Its face looked like Deathnibble’s oldest brother’s.

  “Little one,” it said, its voice echoed. “What are you chasing?”

  The arena warped around them. Paths unfolded in every direction. Stone staircases, golden roads, glowing ladders and escalaters up toward a sign that said Upper Management.

  “Here is ambition,” the demon said. “Promotions. Titles. Approval. Followers. Management. Every step you take, the path extends. Do you run because you chose this? Or because the path exists and you are afraid to jump off?”

  Deathnibbled put his paw to his chin and thought.

  Glenn looked at Oba, Astumori, and Karna. “Ok we can figure this out.”

  Deathnibbles then had an idea. He started stretching and jumping in places, his hermes shoes started to glow.

  Deathnibbles took a breath. Then.

  SLICE.

  In the blink of the eye Deathnibbles was behind his older brother holding his scythe out. The demon’s face didn’t even have time to react. It slowly slid off the body and onto the ground. The arena turned back to normal.

  Silence befell the area. Everyone in shock. Ekenwensu spit out his wine. Lucifer’s eyes gazed in surprise.

  It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Then..

  “Wahoo! You see that shit?! That’s my guy!” It was Giza the sphinx in the audience wearing a Deathnibbles fan T-shirt cheering him on.

  Deathnibbles then stood up and gave a tiny thumbs up towards Glenn’s direction.

  “Uh.” Glenn said over the mic.

  “I guess that is one way to pass the test. Love is next.” Said Karna.

  The symbol on its chest dimmed. It dissolved into mist.

  The second squirrel padded forward, robe marked with a heart.

  This one looked like his mother.

  The air warmed. The arena faded into a section of central park. His family chattered in the branches. Everyone alive. Everyone safe.

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  “Stay,” his mother-face said, opening her arms. “You’ve done enough. Let the gods play their games. Let someone else hurt. Stay with those you love. Isn’t that what your heart wants? Let love be your gravity”

  Deathnibbles did not buy into this trick. His Bakunawa necklace pulsed at his throat, tugging like a tide.

  Oba spoke in his ear, voice unexpectedly gentle. “I know this test. Love is why we fight,” he said. “But it is also how they cage us. If you stay, who protects the others?”

  Deathnibbles gritted his teeth and pressed both paws to the Bakunawa charm.

  The necklace flared. The emotional aura rose from him like the tide of the ocean. He stuck out his paw and controlled the gravity of the realm around the demon.

  The demon was frozen in place fighting to stay standing and the gravity was pulling it down. Then finally the Demon fell to its knees in front of Deathnniblles. With the flick of the paw, Deathnibbles sent the demon flying. It only paused for a second before being thrown back into the area with such force creating a crater. Then again with the flick of the paw Deathnibbles flung the demon up and back down. Over again and again and again…

  The illusion central park fell away.”

  The demon blurred into mist and vanished along with the symbol.

  It was so quiet in the audience you can hear one audience member yell, “Holy Shit!”

  Deathnibbles turned to Glenn’s area again dusting off his robe and giving a nod.

  Hine-nui-te-pō recognized that power. “The Bakunawa’s power. This animal is more powerful than we all assumed.”

  The third squirrel stepped forward, symbol of an open book glowing on its chest.

  Knowledge.

  It looked like nobody he knew. Just a very serious squirrel with very, very small glasses.

  Scrolls exploded out of the ground, towering over him in word, policies, doctrines, legal codes, sacred texts, HR manuals, memos from Lower Management. Charts and graphs fluttered down like snow, each promising to explain everything if he just read one more line.

  “Hey um so I had a script to go off of” the Knowledge demon said. “But um. After watching the last battles. How about we just talk ok?”

  Deathnibbles began to glare.

  “Fine fuck this!” The demon caved in the scrolls to bury Deathnibbles and try and make a run for it.

  Atsumori spoke quietly in his ear. “The living die while we hesitate,” he said. “There is always one more scroll.”

  The Grootslang earring throbbed against Deathnibbles’s head. Heavy as greed, hot as magma. He bit down on a parchment roll and shredded it. Ink turned to dust on his tongue.

  Deathnibbles squeak turned into a roar shattering every scroll. In the blink of a second every material of the scrolls turned to dust. He then used the gravity of bakuawan to gather it all int oa ball. He then changed the material to stone making it a huge boulder.

  Knowledge adjusted its tiny glasses and sighed “Well played,” it said.

  The boulder slammed into the demon leaving nothing in sight.

  It dissolved along with the scroll.

  Now the audience gave a great roar. They love watching Deathnibbles.

  Oba back in the waiting area looked at the others, “What the hell is this creature?”

  The fourth squirrel stepped forward. Its symbol was a broken chain. Detachment.

  This one had his father’s eyes.

  It didn’t speak. It just held out its paws.

  In an instant, everything on Deathnibbles’s body grew heavier. He looked and his paws were chains to the grown not allowing him to use his paws.

  “Let go,” Detachment whispered without moving its mouth. “You cling to tools and stories. To grudges. To Glenn. To the idea of being important. Drop it all and feel the lightness. Or keep dragging it until it crushes you.”

  Deathnibbles tried to move. His limbs shook. He squeaked in panic using Herme’s shoes to try and break free.

  Karna’s voice was steady. “Detachment doesn’t mean not caring,” he said. “It means not mistaking the weapon for the warrior.”

  Deathnibbles took a breath. He turned his paws into a fist creating the cipactli’s ring to glow.

  “You refuse? Then parish!” The demon held a ball of fire in his hand and pointed it at Deathnibbles.

  Flames from the ball of fire shot at Deathnibbles like a flamethrower. But instead of being fully engulfed, his ring absorbed it all.

  Deathnibbles' eyes glowed red. He took a deep breath puffing out his chest. Then with a giant exhale he blew the fire from his breath right back at the demon.

  “No way.” The demon said right before burning.

  Deathnibbles. Deathnibbles. Deathnibbles. The arena erupted in chants.

  Deathnibbles didn’t look at Glenn this time. He just moved to the next.

  The fifth squirrel stepped up, robe marked with interlocking circles.

  Unity.

  This one looked so generic that it could be any squirrel he met.

  “Let’s try something different.” Unity said. “Everyone has their own suffering. Their own war. Their own management. Why tie yourself to theirs? Stay with your own. Defend your own. Let the others burn. It’s easier that way.”

  Oba muttered in his ear. “That’s how they beat us,” he said. “They make us think our pain is special. And then we never notice how similar the whip feels in everyone’s hand.”

  Unity smiled. “How about you join us instead?,” it said. “You are small alone. But we are impossible together.”

  Deathnibbles thought for a second then walked up to the demon and held out his paw.

  The demon was delighted and held his paw out as well. Then Deathnibbles grabbed his scythe and diced the demon into a million pieces.

  It vanished in a burst of particles everywhere.

  Osiris looked over at Lucifer who was trying to keep a composure but was visibly annoyed at this outcome.

  Back at the waiting area, Atsumori walked back over to his bench.

  “What are you doing?” Glenn asked in confusion.

  “We are not needed. This creature has got this” Atsumori said pulling out his flute.

  The sixth squirrel stepped in, chest marked with Wonderment.

  This one had no face at all, just a void where his head should be. The arena exploded into galaxies, stars blooming like flowers, comets trailing ribbons. Deathnibbles hung suspended in the void, staring in awe.

  “It’s too much,” Wonderment whispered. “So many worlds. So many gods. So many stories. You are a speck, staring at an infinite storm. How can you act when there is so much to marvel at?”

  Glenn at the others stared at the monitor and felt very small. Very, very small. But Deathnibbles? He always felt small.

  Atsumori’s flute came faintly through the earpiece, notes threading through the stars. “Wonder is good,” he said. “As long as it moves your feet, not freezes them.”

  Deathnibbles grabbed his necklace and then started to float back in fourth in space. He realized he was able to fly by controlling his own gravity.

  He shot across the arena then he touched his earring and made the stars shape into consultations of his choosing. He played around for a bit painting the sky with the stars. Then he made the wife of his face.

  He sat in awe and wondered what life could have been. Then every single item he wore glowed. He spread out his paws as far as he could stretch them and closed his eyes.

  Wonderment wondered. “What are you doing.” Then it looked up at the consultation of his wife. One after another then shot at Deathnibbles like a shooting star. One by one he absorbed them until the space was dark and the only light was glowing from his eyes.

  Wonderment looked back toward the directions of the gods. “Hey! You have to get me out of here! Hey You said this would be easy! Oh, no.”

  Deathnibbles shook then closed his eyes. For a moment there was nothing but calm in the area and then….

  BOOM.

  The entire area erupted in an explosion from Deathnibbles expanding to the barrier that shielded the arena from the audience.

  Wonderment burst into a shower of sparks and was gone.

  Duet settled and Deathnibbles just stood there in the center of the arena staring at the last squirrel.

  The last squirrel stepped forward.

  It was the smallest of all, robe marked only with a hollow circle.

  Poverty & Nothingness.

  This one looked like him. Exactly like him.

  It spoke in his own voice. “You’re nothing,” it said calmly. “A squirrel with borrowed weapons. An errand boy for a jackal with a briefcase. If you vanished right now, the gods would shrug. Even Glenn would replace you. You’re not a hero. You’re comic relief.”

  The arena went dark. The crowd faded. For a moment, it was just him and… him.

  “No matter how much you suffer,” the demon-squirrel went on, “there will be no reward. No plaque. No statue. No happy ending. So why bother? Why not let those with real power handle it?”

  Karna’s voice was quiet. “This is the hardest valley. Knowing you might not win. Doing it anyway.”

  The demon continued. “That is what I was suppose to say…but you are not nothing. I can see you already know that.”

  The demon-squirrel smiled, taking a kneel. “I acknowledge your greatness,” it said. “I surrender and pledge my allegiance to you.”

  The demon then sunk back into the arena and vanished.

  The arena snapped back into its usual shape. The crowd was dead silent for a heartbeat then erupted.

  Cheers. Screams. Shocked laughter.

  Up in the gods’ box, even Yama nodded. Hine-nui-te-pō murmured something impressed. Ekwensu, after a stunned moment, started laughing again but now it was more incredulous than mocking.

  “WELL!” Lilith shouted, nearly shrieking with delight. “Who knew that tiny ball of fur had that much bite? Seven for seven! A clean sweep and our first contestant to move on to the next trial!”

  A small chest appeared in front of Deathnibbles with a puff of smoke. It was squirrel-sized, with a brass latch.

  “As a reward,” Lilith cooed, “Lower Management bestows upon you the secret of true leadership. Inside this chest lies what every manager must one day face. Open it, and behold your destiny!”

  The crowd leaned forward.

  Deathnibbles flicked open the latch.

  Inside was a mirror. Tiny. Just big enough to show his own curious face.

  For a second, there was silence.

  Then the arena roared with laughter. Ekwensu fell out of his chair, kicking the air. “Of course!” he cackled. “Of course!”

  Deathnibbles stared at himself.

  Scuffed fur. Too-big scythe. Crooked earring. Necklace askew. Eyes wide, tired, still burning.

  He smiled. Then, very carefully, he tucked the mirror under his arm like treasure.

  He hopped back toward the tunnel.

  In his ear, Glenn’s voice was tight with pride. “I can’t believe it. You did it.”

  Karna laughed. “You conquered the seven valleys, little one. Not bad for a rodent.”

  Atsumori’s flute started up again a lighter tune this time.

  As Deathnibbles crossed back into the waiting room, the others crowded around. Karna ruffled his head; Oba gave him a respectful nod; Atsumori bowed; even Oba muttered, “Impressive.”

  Glenn knelt to his level. “So,” he asked softly, “It is possible. To win.”

  Deathnibbles held up the mirror.

  He squeaked.

  Giza in the audience was crying with joy and shaking other audience members. “Did you see that?!”

  The crowd outside kept roaring for blood and spectacle.

  Inside, the tiny coalition tightened quietly around a squirrel who now knew exactly how small and how necessary he was.