The Hakokage Box

Mukoku, calm as a mountain in winter, met his eyes which had widened from wonder and shock. "The shaman's soul," she said, softly, "just refused to burn."

A roar came from the depth of the ground, the Wraithwagon rumbling as the very planes it traveled through wobbled and rolled like the waves of a sea. 

Ran sat down tight and wished he had a seatbelt. Even within the warning chaos, Mukoku ignored it all and continued the story.

"When everything was done to force his essence to be consumed by the infernal power of this land, the shaman did the most abominable act to his name," she said, her voice growing higher in volume in defiance to the raging hell. "He said the words that shall mark history with its deep scar of terror. The shaman announced, when they sought to make him born "the blaze I will be, unto thee a hell of destruction" and then, subsequently, he possessed hellfire. For you see, his was no longer a soul after consuming hundreds of infinite souls, he had within him a cosmic repository of infinite capacity which he used to host the fires of hell itself."

Now Ran felt like they were riding through one of the worst earthquakes of his life, and considering his nativity in Kurana that was a very strong claim.

The ground fell and rose, every hill became a valley suddenly, sending them plunging down, and every valley became a hill, shrugging them off the entire landscape—the Wraithwagon soaring into the sky.

Now he had an experience of what a rollercoaster in hell felt like.

And this was without the shaman's name even mentioned.

What then would come from that happening?

Ran immediately regretted that thought.

The ground around them began to crack and within each crack were molten glows.

Ran gripped his seat upon the Wraithwagon hard, his fingers almost breaking, as he waited for the worst to happen.

Beside him Mukoku had paused to watch too, a smirk upon her lips.

Two heartbeats, three, four…five.

Nothing occurred, he took a deep breath and accepted it for what it was.

A warning.

So color him beyond and above surprised when Mukoku continued.

"He possessed hellfire and unleashed it upon the Demon Prince of Souls. But the Demon Prince was not one to be so easily conquered," Mukoku went on, hell pausing its chaos now it seemed she was done waxing on about the great feats of the shaman.

"He, the Demon Prince, sacrificed the power of his domain to preserve his might and glory. He took command of all the souls in his domain. Thirteen trillion souls they were counted and recorded to be, and history shall forever remember them. Using his power over them, the Prince of Souls applied a pressure of transmutation over the souls, bound them into one material existence and transformed them into a box, a great artifact that possessed more repository capacity than the abomination the shaman called a soul. While he did this, Naraku burned. The Blaze spread beyond the fields of torments and into the strongholds of the Assarians. The Demon Prince strolled into the flames boldly, box in hand."

Ran sat still and listened, enraptured. Making the hair on the nape of his neck stand on edge, he felt hell become still around him as though taking a moment to listen too.

"And when he stepped out… he was unconsumed. Around the box were thousands of runes and sigils, the box was opened and everyone could see it draining the very fires of hell which had been made sentient."

"Hellfire itself was trapped within the box and this was how the Hakokage came to be. A box, an infernal artefact of a great destructive potential. The box was sealed by the Demon Prince but it can easily be unsealed by one committing Hara-kiri on it. Its fires are so dangerous that it's prophesied that it will one day consume the universe. It can only be resealed by seven pure mortal mages' souls dying and possessing it to keep the sentient fire at bay. But those souls would be forever lost."

Ran was almost scared to ask, a familiar feeling he was still getting used to but one he felt was going to remain with him for all his time here in hell.

"Wa…was the Hakokage ever opened?" If there was a whimper to his voice then it was understandable, he was still reeling from the fact that they were traveling over cracks of lava and Mukoku had dropped this tale of terror on him.

"Twice. And it will probably be done again in the future. Every box closed is bound to be open by someone," she said, sagely. "That is the nature of curiosity."

He nodded, fear spiking up in his heart. He hoped he never lived to see that day. 

Sentient hellfire? That was a big no. He was still just recovering from his first experience of the Blaze, and that was only an echo of hellfire and it was merely of what hellfire had been before it met the shaman.

He had no urge whatsoever to find out what it was now. 

In fact— "Where is the Hakokage now?" He asked.

Mukoku read his mood cleanly and smiled. "Why? With the Demon Prince who had created it, of course."

Ran felt a pit form in his stomach as he took in her cheerful disposition, a happy demon was never a sign of anything good.

He thought back to the beginning of their conversation.

When he'd asked her where they were headed, she'd replied—to one of the most evil Princes of Hell.

Slaying trillions in your domain, dooming them into becoming immaterial, their souls locked in that state for eternity— existing as a box —just to preserve your domain and power was certainly evil beyond reasoning.

"Mukoku? Where are we headed?" He asked for the final time, fearing the answer he got.

"To the City of Souls. Our host shall be the very prince who had conquered the shaman—"

Even hell held its breath to hear her say the name.

"—the infernal prince of souls…"

"Xin."