Modern Hell

In prevoise attempts to Modernize the planes (although, technically, this is an extension of the origional effort) Hell is usually portrayed as having addpoted a coporate settup. However, this angle seems lacking and narrow focused. Here is my take on a modernized Hell, layer by layer.

Avernus
The first layer of Baator is a wasteland of broken concreate, barbed wire and choking smog. Amidst the eternal rain of flames, massive factory complexes churn out the armaments for the diabolic legions, while in the massive courtyards the fiends themselves drill endlessly, preparing for the next battle with the Tanar'ri.
Filling the factories and the training grounds are the twisted soul shells and lemures, working endlessly under the eyes of the greater fiend overseers. Those who do not work up to expectations and fail to meet quotas are turned into raw materials for Hell's terribe machine of war.
Amidst the clusters of industrial horror are gleaming accademies for the elite of Baatezu society, where the Pit Fiend generals are trained in the art of tactics and administration.
The Bronze Citadel: Towering over the surrounding industrial complexes and training grounds stands the Bronze Citadel. A fortress city built of riveted and tarnished scrap metal, the central power of Avernus at first appears as a blasted and decrepit wreck. Yet under the decay and rust lies of core of stainless steel and fiberoptics. From his comand room at the citadel's heart, Warlord-Regent Bael can observe and command anything within the entierity of the first hell.
The Pillar of Skulls: Towering high into the clouds of soot and smog, this landmark is both a testament to the Devil's might in war and a visual history of their enemies. Near the base of the tower the mostly demonic skulls display almost as much metal as bone, while the higher, and older, reaches of the tower are pure, a reminder to the devils that, as they have changed and grown greater, so have their enemies, and that they should never grow complacent in the propagation of Law and Evil.
At the Pillar's base old Tiamat rests, not reduced by her scarred hide and sightless eyes, gaurding the stairway from Avernus to Dis while her chromatic children attend to wills and desires.
The Domain of Kurtulmak: Deep under the surface of Avernus are the cavernous domains of Kurtulmak. In the upper caverns of this realm, massive hordes of kobolds are trained in swarming tactics and massed combat. In the deeper reaches of this realm, the best of koboldkind train endlessly as spies and assasins of nigh unparralled skill.

Dis
The second layer of Baator is a city of red hot stainless steel. Skyscrapers rise like an eternal and terrible forest. The streets are packed with vehicles and the sidewalks bustle with the economic comings and goings of the city's fiendish occupants.
Within the glowing hot towers soul shells and lemures shuffle between cubicles and offices, delivering the commands and dictates of the Baatezu Elite to the lesser fiends that labor endlessly, designing and programing and filing and accounting, slaving away endlessly to fufill the plans and purposes of their masters. In their tower to offices, the Baatezu nobles plan and scheme, playing an intracate game of economic diplomacy and sabatoge.
The Iron Tower: Rising above the city's tallest skyscraper rises the Iron Tower, the executive center of Dis. Out of place in this city of glowing metal and burning glass, the tower is sculpted of black iron as if by a demented gothic architect. Yet for all its twisted monstrosity, it displays a dark symetry and purpose.
Within this barolk monstrosity resides Dispater, the Executive-Regent of the city. From the tower he can observe everything that happens in his domain, every petty victory and defeat in the war of currency and trade that rages below him, every plot and plan of his underlings.

Minauros
The third layer of Baator is a damp wasteland of thick, soft mud and decay. Littering the grounds are the corpses of ancient forgotten beasts. Rising from the muck are industrial furnaces that produce consumer goods to be exported and sold to the rest of the Hells. The massive revenue produced is sucked into the coffers of the Minauros bureocracy, and most of the workers are destitute, even by Hell's standards.
The City of Minauros: Rising into the sky like some ancient and decrepit beast is the city of Minauros, from which the layer gains its name. The lower levels of the city are relatively uninhabited, and house the vaults of the burocrates and tax collectors. The stone from which these layers are built is old, damp and scored by acid, a testament to the great acidic swamps that once filled the layer.
Above the vaults are the manors of the Burocrats and Taxcollectors themselves, massive estates filled with servants and slaves. At the highest point in the city lies the estate of the Viscount-Regent Mammon, a mausolem miles wide crafted from the finest marble in the planes.
Jangling Hiter: High above the muck and decay of the plains below, the Kyton city of Jangling Hiter is suspended in the sky by huge chains of steel and iron. Within the city of Chains, the Kytons regard each other as equals, but defer to Qytel. Under his guidance, the city has become the shipping and transportation center of the layer, and most of the goods exported pass through the city before being sent to their final destination.

Phlegethos
Phlegatos is an ancient, firey wasteland. Great, endless expanses of burning sand are criss crossed by rivers of lava, while and endless rain of scortching ash falls from the blood red skies. Dotting this terrible landscape are cities of garrish neon and terrible vice. In these cities, vice is sold on every street by a myriad of pimps, pushers and others, offering a bewildering array of exploitation and cruelty. In these twisted streets, sadism is the name of the game, and cruelty a virtue.
Abriymoch: Sprawling out of the caldera of an ancient volcano, Abriymoch is the greatest of the cities of vice. Here, the twisted pleasures of the layer are magnified a thousand fold.
Lady-Regent Fierna rules from this city. Her lavish orgies of pleasure and pain are legendary throughout the planes. Some whisper that Fierna is not the layer's true lord, but is instead a front for a more ancient evil, suposedly deposed in the legendary Dies Irae.

Stygia
BUY! BUY! SPEND! A SOUL SAVED IS A SOUL WASTED! NEW SLAVES TODAY, JUST 3 SOULS A DOZEN! BUY! SPEND!
On entering the Fifth Hell, a being is deluged by an unending stream of advertisements, propaganda, comercials, moral lessons, everything the mind could possible conceave. The layer is a frozen world, with massive ice flows drifting through a frigid sea. Under the waters, built into the undersides of the frozen bergs are cities, surrounded by magical wards that keep the waters of the styx from pouring in. These wards are not entirely effective, and a mind numbing mist fills the streets, slowly sapping the will and memories of the petitioners and fiends that dwell here.
Everywhere are vision screens, magical resonators projecting telepathic messages, billboards, speakers and a host of stranger methodes of media all filling the vacancies of the mind caused by the styxian mists with messages to buy, spend, do this, do that, belive this, obey that, all bombarding the mind in an uneding torrent. In these cities, goods produced in Minauros are sold according to the economic plans of Dis, all advertised by the media of Stygia.
Tantlin: Once known as the City of Ice, Tantalin is the one city free of the unending torrent of advertisement. Here is the marketing core of the layer, where the ad campaigns and the subliminal messages that bombard the rest of the layer are concocted. In the harbor of the city is a massive iceberg in which Leviathin is trapped. In the facets of ice can be seen flickers of images, all displaying the works of mental conditioning that are constantly being concotted by the lord of the Fifth.

Malbolge
The sixth layer of hell is an endless maze of stone cliffs. Scafolding of steel cling to the sheer cliffs like the webs of spiders. Among these scafolds the slaves of hell labor endlessly, harvesting the ores and materials for the machines of Avernus and Minauros. Smoke belches from the hanging refineries, filling the air and staining the rock faces, while the wastes of the refining process are thrown into the endless depths, falling on the lower refineries and mining camps as a filithy rain.
Palace of the Countess: At the center of a massive web of scafolds, hanging between two of the endless cliff faces, the Regent-Hag supervises the endless mining opperations. She sells equally to every layer of Hell, reaping great rewards in the process.
Lost Camps: Dotting the endless expanses of cliff faces are the rusting remnants of those camps who failed to meet the quotas set to them by the Hag countess. Within these webs of rust and decay strange creatures hide, their horrific howlings echoing up through the canyon walls, filling the slaves of hell with terror. These scafolds are observed by specially asigned devils from Nessus, who bear authority equal to a duke of hell.

Maladomini
The Seventh Hell is a world of ruined citys, crumbling, cesspool lined roads and rusting iron. Within this ruined wasteland, lesser devils huddle in sagging buildings bereft of even the hope of acension through the ranks of their race, broken and defeated.
Perstata: Rising from the ruin and decay of the layer, Perstat is a titanic city of white and grey, gleaming in the dim light. Here, devils of all ranks move about their lives according to prescripted plans, performing actions and thinking thoughts all chosen by the supreme master of the city, Regent Beezulbub. Here, every action is carefully observed and documented, every movement examined, every thought cataloged by the legions of observers, and all this is passed on the Beezulbub. Any sign of divergence from the norm is stamped out, every subversive element culled. Identical devils perform identical tasks in identicle rooms of identicle buildings in identicle blocks of the perfectly symetric city.
At least, that is what the masters of the city would have you believe. The higher eschalons of the citie's rule are rife with plotting and politics, as each ranking devil attempts to throw doubt on their rivals' perfect adherence to the order and malice of the city.

Cania
The Eighth layer of Hell is wrapped in eternal cold. Massive glaciers rise from plains of ice, all covered by an undying blizzard. The entire layer is lit by the surreal glow of fiberoptic cables running through the ice, and the frozen wastes are criss crossed by cables conveying information to and from the sealed and enviornmentally controlled labs in which the fiendish researchers conduct horrific experiments in the search for new knowledge.
Mephistar: In the end, all the cables carrying information, all the waves of communication converge on Mephistar. Here, Lord-Regent Mephistopheles sifts through the masses of information, deciding which projects shall be funded and which shall be cut, which discovery will be released to which researchers, which technologies will be implemented and which shall be stored away for some other time. All knowledge comes to the Frozen Lord, but only what he wants leaves.
Shapes in the Ice: Deep within some glaciers of Cania, strange shapes can be seen. Around such glaciers are zones of darkness where no cables run. These zones have been declared off limits to the fiendish research body as a whole, and only specially assigned fiends ever are given a chance to study them.
Experimentation Camps: Amidst the glowing icebergs lie massive camps, cut off from the rest of the plane by magically sealed walls of jagged metal. Within these camps are collected the "research subjects" of Cania. Each camp specializes in a particular form of subject. Camps for elves, humans, dwarves, and exemplar breeds can all be found, and some camps are even more specialized, containing only members of a particular subrace or even religion, political leaning, or whatever classification can be imagined. Within these camps some "research subjects" undergo horrific tortures and strange treatments, while others are kept healthy and fit, so as to provide the maximum amount of variety for testing.
The Pit: Surrounded by a ledge of titanic iceberges is the Pit. The primary access point to Nessus, the pit is several hundred feet wide, and from it issues an uneding torrent of steam. Several elevators made of superheated steel are built into the sides of of the pit, and it is from the points that they contact the frozen walls of the pit that the steam issues. These elevators are gaurded by legions of fiends.

Nessus
The Nineth Hell. The of all the incarnations of Law and Evil, this is the most true. Here, no factories belch forth smoke, no lesser fiends toil endlessly at the whims of their dark lords. That is the job of the other Eight.
Here, the ground is glassy, an endless plain of still hot obsidan, all cracks and imperfections smoothed out. Rising from this endless expanse of shimmering solidified flame are the pristine cities of white marble and steel. Under these lightless skies, the Baatezu rulers of Hell govern the affairs of the other Eight, their subtle interfierance reminding the Lord-Regents of who truely sits upon the Serpent Throne of Hell.
Malsheem: Towering into the sunless sky, the great citadel of Malsheem is the largest structure in all the planes. Hundreds of miles high at the least, this is but the tip of the iceberg. Worming its way deep into the very surface of Nessus, the great Citadel houses armies vast beyond anything every fielded in the Blood War, legions of Pit Fiends larger and more cunning than any other of that breed anywhere.
From this terrible fortress, the Dark Eight, a council of the greatest Pit Fiends in the history of the Nine issue the edicts that shape Hell.
The Serpent Chamber: Rumor speaks of a chamber within the deepest layer of Malsheem, far deeper than any Lord of the Nine or Duke of Hell has ever set foot, where the miles long True Form of the Lord of Hell, Asmodeus, rests in a sea of its own ichor, its ancient wounds slowly healing. Those fools who whisper these secrets last no longer than a day before their destruction.