I collapsed to my knees as the weight of Orpheus' body vanished, the pain in my chest and deep within my skull vanished as well. The world felt hazy, and I took a few steps into the thick white fog that drifted around me. I squinted against the bright light that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Was this one of Orpheus' tricks? It didn't feel like one, the accompanying headache was absent. I called out, my voice echoing through the infinite space. "Orpheus, we aren't done here."

"Actually," a voice answered back, causing me to search for the source of the sound, "You are done, this is the afterlife Jacob." He paused for a moment, "or do you prefer Huntsman, I understand that's what you called yourself in life."

"Jacob is fine, I never really liked The Huntsman anyway, that name was Orpheus' gift." I took a few more steps into the mist, searching for any feature beyond swirling white, "Is this all the afterlife is? A swirling mist? I'd expected more."

"No, this is just a template, a blank canvas for you to paint whatever you wish onto. That is the benefit of reaching Ilera, heaven as you call it on earth."

"Ilera, huh, so where is Orpheus. I assume the sanctimonious shit made it here as well?" I thought back to our battle in Time Square, to the blade he had rammed through my chest as I had shot a hole the size of my fist in his. Orpheus healed quickly, but not nearly quickly enough for that sort of wound. He must have died with me.

"Allen did not make it to Ilera. He is in Johera, one of the minor hells, where he will remain until he learns the error of his ways." I chuckled a bit at that, Orpheus, protector of the people, was named Allen. It was such a pitifully mundane name for someone so powerful.

"That doesn't make any sense, how could he be there if I've managed to get here?" I needed to sit down, and as soon as I had the thought a chair appeared beside me. As I sat on the wonderfully comfortable leather chair I'd summoned I asked the voice, "What got him sent there? He was a good man who fought for the good of the people? It doesn't make sense that he would be there while I, the man who stole billions and never spoke an honest word in my life would end up here."

"The difference," The voice said, "is that your crimes were only crimes on earth. You stole, but only ever from those who could afford to lose it. You lied, but only to those in power. It also helps that a good deal of what you stole went to those who needed it." I forgot about that, I'd donated a few billion dollars to charity to ease my conscience about living in luxury while others starved.

The voice continued, "Allen, on the other hand committed more serious crimes though he refrained from the minor ones you committed. He protected only those who did not need it, the wealthy and powerful. He worked in the interest of their bank accounts and hurt a lot of mostly innocent people to protect their investments." The speaker must have seen the look on my face for he assured me, "Don't worry, Allen thought he was doing the right thing, and this counts toward him a great deal, in fact if he had not broken into so many minds and rewritten the memories of so many he might have made it here himself."

"How long will he be there?" I asked. I had never particularly like Orpheus, or Allen I thought with a snicker, but he didn't really deserve to be in hell, even if it were temporary. He'd done what he'd done in an effort to do the right thing, and he'd acted on the morals he'd been taught, not the ones from this strange afterlife. Though I'd managed to avoid the wrong crimes, my choices were made out of self interest, even my massive donations that had earned me such credit were to help me sleep at night. I'd never really cared about the ones who had nothing. Orpheus had cared, he'd done all he could to maintain what he thought was moral rightness, but because he used the powers he'd been born with he would suffer? That wasn't right.

"Not long," the voice said, "Just until he repents, it usually only takes a few decades, though it may take him longer since he likely doesn't understand what he did wrong."

"And you're okay with this? Punishing a man for fifty years for something he didn't even know was wrong?"

"It is the way of things, I did not decide it, and you have no control over it. Best to put it out of your mind."

"What if I switched places with him? Can I not do so?"

"It has never happened before, but it may be possible. I will have to go and ask one higher than I, if you suddenly find yourself with a terrible headache and a pressure on your chest then know that your request was granted."

"Alright, but make sure you tell the bastard it was me who saved him eh?" He'd never believe it.

A few minutes later, the scene shifted into a black deeper than the darkest night, and the headache that exploded behind my eyes was impressive. I settled in for a long, uncomfortable wait where I hoped to discover a way to make myself worthy of the heaven that awaited.