Verdict: Signal Fires

Love. Though the pit was deep, love persisted. Though their schemes were thorough, love overcame all the same. In this case love overcame as a door of unique design. No door so directly could be fashioned, the schemers had ensured this before realizing that it was each their own trap that they would fall prey to, yet still a door was fashioned. In the basement, in this pit, in this place where all scaffolding of the mind had been left behind and above, a needle's eye could be seen. The twists and turns that comprised the threshold were apparent before entry, the shape and size were apparent as well. No goods, no schemes, no golden parachutes might be carried through, but one could walk through on their own without issue, or any direct harm.

One would emerge as themselves, love could secure this much from a passage once considered the river of memory, washing it all away. One would emerge as themselves, love could secure this much from a juncture once known as the flames, now it was love that would set souls ablaze. One would emerge as themselves, love could secure this much, but for those on this level, nothing more.

Time itself was a tricky proposition in these halls, for who was to keep it? The pit had been shattered, to each their own; travelers had traversing on their minds and little else; the rest were already at the feast. Would one choose to walk away from all the weapons and traps and pain they had amassed, when they alone were left to polish and admire and feel these things? Would one delay- today, tomorrow, the next- in this place, unwilling to part with what they had? It is no matter, through the doors they came, almost all at once (the particular differences in arrival, measured best in seconds or perhaps minutes, passing beneath notice) for the feast was the next thing to begin for all. So each raised a glass and cheered wholeheartedly with their whole heart which still beat in their chest; they cheered for what lay ahead, and what had been left behind.