Point of no return

The biker speeds up the pick-up and heads towards the destination, breaking through the fog. The soft morning mist has covered the surroundings in a hazy blanket. The gentle sunlight filtering through the delicate atmosphere has created a warm, soft glow. The environment is calm and still, but the occasional sounds that come to mind are faint and distant, adding to the eerie atmosphere. The climber does not know where these sounds are coming from. A gentle mist made the dew-kissed surfaces cool and damp. The colors of the gray mist were carefully selected, creating a pastel-like palette and evoking an unknown feeling in this environment. A thick fog had reduced visibility ahead, creating an atmosphere of mystery and ambiguity. It had created an atmosphere of another world with a miraculous quality, where secrets were shrouded. The more he advanced, breaking through the veil of fog, the more the mystery grew stronger. At one point, he realizes that there is no trace of the valley beneath his feet. His bike is moving through a mysterious gray fog. This unknown path is not as easy as the world's most famous paths. Sadness is in the air here. The sadness increases as he moves forward. The biker feels his nerves are losing their function. Sadness is consuming him. He is entering the realm of unknown, more strongly. The peaceful silence here is less than before. The sounds that were faint then are now loud. The intensity of the sounds is indicated by the screams. The matter is now quite clear to the biker. He has reached the point of no return, there is no way back. There is only sadness, only sorrow, only pain.
Finally, the endless path ends. He starts falling down with the bike. With a thud, he falls into some liquid. The liquid is extremely hot. There are others there with him. They are also human. To be precise, sinful human beings. Just like him. They too, just like him, drove their cars onto the sidewalk in a drunken state and took the lives of people lying on the road. They were not tried in the courts of the world. But this court keeps an account of every deed, does not deprive anyone. It exacts its dues with rigor. It rewards and punishes for everything.
At such a time, he feels as if he is being stabbed by something. Someone huge is stirring the liquid with a large, wide-open spatula. As a result, a vortex is created in the liquid. The size of the vortex is increasing. As it grows, it swallows them inside. They sink into the depths of that swirling, boiling liquid.