The gates of the palace opened without sound.
Beyond them—
Heaven unfolded.
Arin stepped out… and forgot how to breathe.
The sky was not blue.
It was layered.
Bands of silver light drifted like slow-moving rivers across an endless horizon. Floating islands hung in the distance, connected by bridges made of crystallized starlight. Waterfalls poured upward instead of down, vanishing into rings of luminous clouds.
Structures shimmered in impossible geometry — towers carved from translucent crystal, gardens suspended midair, trees with leaves like liquid glass that chimed softly when touched by wind.
Creatures moved across the skies.
Winged beasts with radiant feathers.
Serpentine beings coiling through currents of light.
Spirits no larger than fireflies trailing threads of gold behind them.
Arin turned slowly in place.
"…This existed?" he whispered.
Caelum watched him from the side.
"Yes."
Arin's eyes sparkled like a child seeing fireworks for the first time.
"This is insane."
He pointed at a distant floating terrace.
"Is that a city?"
"Yes."
"And that?"
"A training ground."
"And that glowing ring thing?"
"A time-stabilization array."
"…You guys have way too much free time."
Caelum almost smiled.
They moved forward — not quite walking, not quite flying — gliding across a path of condensed light.
For a while, Caelum showed him the beauty.
The archives where memories of extinct civilizations were preserved.
The gardens where seasons rotated every few steps.
The observatory where Elder Gods studied branching timelines.
Arin absorbed everything like someone starving for wonder.
But then—
Caelum changed direction.
The architecture shifted.
The brilliance dimmed slightly.
They descended toward a massive open plaza filled with movement.
"This," Caelum said calmly, "is the central market district."
Stalls floated in midair, displaying enchanted artifacts, bottled stardust, crystallized mana cores. Divine beings exchanged items with refined gestures, their auras pulsing visibly — some bright and overwhelming, others faint.
Arin noticed something.
The brighter the aura…
The more space others gave them.
The more respect they received.
No one spoke out of turn.
No one bumped into the powerful.
"Hierarchy," Caelum said, reading his expression.
Arin glanced at him.
"In Heaven, power defines placement."
He gestured subtly as they walked.
"At the pinnacle — the Goddess of Time."
Arin stiffened slightly.
"Below her — the Elder Gods."
"Then High Divinities."
"Then Lesser Gods."
"Then bloodline heirs."
"Then spirits and attendants."
A pause.
"And at the very bottom… irregulars."
Arin blinked.
"…Let me guess."
Caelum looked at him.
"Yes."
Arin scratched his cheek.
"Nice. I speedran to last place."
Caelum ignored that.
As they continued, Arin's attention was suddenly hijacked.
His eyes locked onto a floating stall.
"…Is that ice cream?"
Caelum exhaled.
"It is a frozen mana confection."
"It's ice cream."
"…Yes."
"And that?" Arin pointed rapidly. "And that? And that glowing thing with sprinkles?"
Caelum closed his eyes briefly.
"…You may try one."
Arin's face lit up like he'd just been granted immortality.
Moments later, he sat casually at the edge of a fountain of liquid light, holding a shimmering pale-blue swirl of what was absolutely ice cream.
He took a bite.
His eyes widened.
"…This is illegal."
Caelum stood nearby, arms folded.
That was when the atmosphere shifted.
The crowd subtly parted.
Not out of fear.
Out of habit.
A young man approached, dressed in ornate silver and deep violet robes. His aura was bright — controlled, confident.
Several spirits trailed behind him respectfully.
He stopped when his eyes landed on Arin.
"…What," he said slowly, "is that?"
Arin blinked up at him, spoon halfway to his mouth.
"Frozen mana confection," he replied helpfully.
The young man's lip curled.
"I was referring to you."
Caelum remained silent.
Watching.
The heir stepped closer, gaze sharp.
"You reek of weak mana."
Arin took another bite.
"Probably."
Murmurs flickered through nearby onlookers.
"You sit here," the heir continued, "in a public district. Eating among higher beings."
Arin squinted slightly.
"…Is there a seating chart?"
A few nearby spirits choked on suppressed laughter.
The heir's expression darkened.
"You filthy irregular. Do you know whose domain you stand in?"
Arin looked around.
"…Ice cream guy's?"
Silence.
Caelum turned his head slightly to hide something that might have been amusement.
The heir's jaw tightened.
"I am the son of one of the High Divinities. Watch your tone."
Arin nodded thoughtfully.
"Ah. That explains it."
"…Explains what?"
He shrugged.
"The confidence."
A visible vein twitched at the heir's temple.
"You should know your place."
Arin scratched his chin casually.
"Which one is that again? Bottom tier, right? I was briefed."
The heir stepped forward, aura flaring slightly.
Caelum's eyes sharpened — but he did not move.
As long as it didn't escalate physically.
The heir leaned down slightly.
"I will remember your face."
Arin nodded.
"Memory is important."
"I will make sure you regret standing here."
"Sure," Arin replied calmly. "Schedule it in advance."
The heir froze.
Embarrassment flickered across his expression.
"I… I will deal with you later, you scum."
He turned sharply and walked away, aura stiff with irritation.
Arin waved lazily.
"Bye."
Silence lingered for a moment before the market noise resumed.
Caelum stared at Arin.
"…It is time to return."
Arin blinked.
"Already?"
"Yes."
He sighed dramatically, finishing the last bite.
"Well. We don't have a choice, do we?"
They ascended back toward the palace.
For a while, they moved in silence.
Then Caelum spoke.
"I expected a reaction."
"To whom?" Arin asked.
"The heir."
"Oh." He shrugged. "That guy."
"Yes. That guy."
Arin looked ahead at the glowing palace in the distance.
"Well… I've met plenty like him."
Caelum listened carefully.
"People who hate the weak for no reason," Arin continued casually. "If I kept grudges against everyone like that… I wouldn't have survived very long."
A small pause.
"And considering my luck, survival's already hard enough."
Caelum's gaze shifted slightly.
"And besides," Arin added, almost lazily, "he's not entirely wrong."
"…Explain."
"I am weak."
He said it plainly.
Not bitter.
Not angry.
Just factual.
"So there's nothing to argue about."
A quiet sigh escaped him.
"Better to save energy."
Caelum did not respond.
Something unfamiliar stirred in him.
Not pity.
Not admiration.
Something else.
They reached the palace gates.
The massive doors loomed before them.
Arin looked up at it.
"…Well," he muttered, "back to hell."
Caelum's head snapped toward him.
"Shhh!"
He grabbed Arin's shoulder abruptly.
"Do you not value your life?"
Arin blinked.
"You are within her domain," Caelum whispered urgently. "Have you forgotten what happened when you called her frightening?"
Arin's face slowly shifted into exaggerated horror.
"Ooooh," he said dramatically. "Right. Soul removal."
He patted Caelum's arm.
"Thanks. You're the best."
Caelum stared at him.
"…You are exhausting."
The gates opened once more.
And together—
They stepped back inside.