Sigil's Inferno II
Nine circles. Nine tiles. One descent, from the gate to the ice.
“Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate.”Inferno · Canto III, 9
Scroll to descendCircle ILimbo
They knew, and never bought. Souls carry one coin each down into the earth, and Charon takes it as the fare. Below, in the mist, stand those who never entered the market, for ever watching the green candle that left without them.
Circle IILust
A whirlwind of green candles and coins carries the souls round and round. Each one reaches for the shining coin at the centre, and it always slips away. The punishment for chasing every pump.
Circle IIIGluttony
Red candles fall from the sky, and the 100x levers in the souls' hands snap one after another. A three-headed liquidator hound devours their positions and the coins they spilled.
Circle IVGreed
Bulls and bears roll enormous sacks of coins at each other and collide in the middle. The price of greed: bags you can neither drop nor sell.
Circle VWrath
Waist-deep in a murky swamp, souls wave the flags of their camps and drown each other in an argument that never ends. Empty speech bubbles hang above them. This is the hell of eternal crypto-twitter wars.
Circle VIHeresy
A burning city, tombstones made of cracked coins and of projects that were sure to do a hundred x. The crowd still prays to a false prophet raising up the next coin.
Circle VIIViolence
The robbed stand waist-deep in a river of liquidity, shaking out empty wallets while centaur snipers shoot at the coins on the water. Below, the sands burn among cracked vaults, and a dragon carries off the last chest. The circle of hacks and exploits.
Circle VIIIFraud
Every ledge, its own deception: shillers with megaphones, a coin blown up into a bubble, a pyramid whose bottom row is sinking, bait on a hook, a treasure chest with teeth, a sandwich attack, serpents guarding fake treasure.
Circle IXTreachery
The very bottom, kept for those who betrayed their own community. Ice giants roll up the carpets; frozen souls clutch empty wallets. At the centre the three-faced king, founder, insider and market maker, pulls the rug from under everyone, and the coins slide into the ice.
The tower
Every circle is a tile. Stacked in order they rebuild the whole descent, from the gate above to the ice below.
Your tower
That doesn't look like an address. 0x + 40 characters.
0/ 9 tiles
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/ 9 tiles held
“E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle.”Inferno · Canto XXXIV, 139
Nine circles of crypto sin, nine tiles. Collect them and the tower rebuilds itself, from the gate above to the ice below.
