Beneath The Fourth Light
A Story of Life After Power.
Author: Chris Marshall
What’s Beneath the Fourth Light about?
‘It looks like a Heaven-or-Hell story, but it’s actually about what happens when someone rejects the premise entirely.’
The story is a quintessential redemption arc, questioning whether a person defined by ambition and moral compromise can truly change.
The narrative unfolds across four distinct settings. It begins in a sterile, liminal ferry terminal before moving into the first realm, Heaven—a serene but unnervingly perfect world of endless green lawns, perpetually pleasant weather, and carefully curated social gatherings. The second realm, Hell, offers a stark contrast: a gritty, chaotic urban landscape called Grimwood Grounds, interspersed with sterile institutional chambers where psychological torment is meticulously administered. The third realm—and what lies beyond—well, you’ll have to read the book.
This isn’t just a fantasy adventure; it is grounded in human complexity and moral consequence. It delves into what makes a life meaningful, asking profound questions about identity, regret, and redemption, without offering easy answers.
What would you do if eternity wasn’t decided for you—but left up to you?
Beneath the Fourth Light is a darkly comic, speculative drama about Richard Ainsworth, a powerful Perth executive who dies suddenly—and refuses to accept it. Awaking in a sterile, bureaucratic afterlife, he is thrust into an experimental trial that will take him through realms beyond life, including Heaven and Hell. Each realm challenges his assumptions, tests his moral compass, and forces him to confront the truths he has long avoided.
Cynical and defiant, Richard attempts to outwit the system, only to discover that control has limits—and that the lessons of death are as subtle as they are profound. Along the way, he encounters enigmatic figures, temptations, and moral dilemmas that push him to examine desire, guilt, and the meaning of his choices.
Part meditation, part dark comedy, Beneath the Fourth Light explores the spaces between ambition and accountability, power and surrender, and the quiet work required to live a life fully present. It is a story about what we risk, what we endure, and how we learn to inhabit the world we return to, armed with the hard-won knowledge of what truly matters.
Everything changes beneath the fourth light
Look Inside
A wonderfully original and witty concept,
grounding the fantastical premise in a relatable, frustrating reality.
I was fifty-four—with a riverside home, a luxury car, a thriving career and a family who loved me. Why the hell was I standing here with some clipboard-wielding clown talking about Heaven, Hell and a third-world sandbox?
‘Can you give me a hint about the third realm—you owe me that for Christ’s sake.’
‘We prefer not to invoke names,’ he said, as if convincing himself it wasn’t ridiculous. ‘Let’s just say that you will recognise it in due course, but it will be different—I can’t say more right now.’
I stared. Really? That was it? I almost laughed. Even in death, I was still being fed from the corporate playbook—vague assurances, no accountability and a promise of updates “in due course.”
‘The boundaries between Heaven and Hell are thin. Heaven’s where they reward you for the numbers. Hell’s where they show you what those numbers cost.’
‘What are you talking about?’
He shrugged. ‘In Heaven, it’s all outcomes—did you deliver, did the graph go up, did the board smile. But here?’ His eyes ran over me. ‘Here we ask different questions. Who paid the price? Who got left behind? What corners did you cut to keep the machine running?’
He paused. Confusion churned in my gut, but I didn’t interrupt.
‘Hell isn’t punishment, Richard. It’s disclosure.’
‘You don’t have that kind of pull.’
‘Maybe not,’ I said. ‘Perhaps this trial isn’t mine at all. Perhaps it’s about you—your loose ends, your interference. The glitch—it’s you.’
‘Glitch?’
‘I shouldn’t be here,’ I said. ‘I’m not the one on trial. Maybe I’m the one who decides how this ends. Maybe I can go back.’
Simon watched me. Still. For once, a straight face.
‘Careful, brother,’ he said. ‘Hope’s the most dangerous poison of all.’
Chris Marshall Books 