Tower of Heaven

A pregnant silence hung over the space as Atlas stood opposite the ostrich feather.

He watched it, unknowing of what else to do.

The scale tipped up and down as his deeds were weighed. He felt his soul being pried into and he felt information about himself being consumed by "something."

A stellar blue light threatened to leave his body and fight back against that force, but just this time, he internally begged it to stop. He also wanted to see the results of this test.

If he wasn’t going to die, he didn’t want to stop what was happening here.

It was as if that light heard his wishes. It pulsed slightly as if it was unwilling, but it begrudgingly allowed the force of that concept into his soul. Retreating back into the unknown place in his soul where it hid, it held its interference to see what Atlas had in store.

Its retreat was also a sign.

As the scale tipped back and forth, it eventually reached a point of balance. Atlas stood perfectly equal to the feather without dipping or raising any more.

[Interesting.]

It wasn’t a strange thing to achieve balance. The majority of people who lived ordinary lives did the same. Their deeds balanced out in the middle, leaving them as existences who didn’t make a significant impact in either direction.

What was interesting was the fact that a cultivator did not lean towards good or evil.

The path of cultivation tended to be split between righteousness and evil. Those who loved righteously aimed to ascend as heavenly beings even in the afterlife, therefore, they led lives of prosperity and kindness that elevated them above the feather.

As for those who followed the path of power with no regards for morality or anything of the sort, why would they concern themselves with doing good deeds to balance out their evils? In their paths, counting evils and keeping track of them was far too tiring.

Atlas stood in the middle. He was not righteous, nor was he evil. He was a person who indulged in both worlds.

One could say that this also was not a unique disposition for cultivators, however, Atlas’ case was different.

He was not evenly balanced on the scale because the good and evil in his heart were balanced.

[You have been told that your fate is unique.]

Anubis didn’t know this for a fact, but he spoke as if it was indisputable.

[The message of the Heavens will not be spoken through my lips. Interpret its will as you please.]

He was not going to tell Atlas what made his fate interesting.

But, even though he could not see everything the scale saw, he vaguely understood what it had determined.

The man standing on that plate had not yet lived a life of evil, but the "fate" attached to him was stained in so much blood that it affected his current self. It was a situation that even Anubis had to say that he hadn’t seen before.

The usual living soul that came to the Underworld wasn’t so interesting. Their purposes were much different.

[You said you were searching for the Prince.]

Anubis glanced down at the man who was still standing on the scale.

[If he was sent here, he would already be free. This is his father’s domain.]

Experience more on empire

"Right…"

It was something Atlas should’ve considered from the start, but it wasn’t as if he lost much time.

"Can you tell me where he is?"

[I will not. Neither of your targets are present here.]

Atlas raised a brow and smiled wryly, unable to choose between the two expressions. On one hand, his last sentence was a gift. He had no reason to assure Atlas that neither Artemia nor Horus were present in his Underworld.

However, on the other hand, this was the kind of personality he’d been warned about.

’If he speaks too much, there is a chance he’ll incite conflict with other forces as large as his own. His every word and action is controlled.’

Even his interactions with Atlas were kept to a bare minimum without the involvement of any emotion.

It seemed like a suffocating existence, but it was the state Anubis was most content in.

Atlas could only shake his head.

"Am I free to leave?"

[You cannot leave the way you came. You have stepped on the Scales of Judgement, therefore, you only have two paths to take. The first is led by me into the afterlife you have earned, and the second lies below.]

"Excuse me?"

Atlas’ expression hardened for the first time.

Was he being told to die?

[If you choose the latter, you will be returned to Purgatory. Ammit only eats the hearts of the impure and the Divine.]

Atlas had already been given enough leniency. He was allowed to skip several steps of the process of entering the afterlife in the first place because he was a living soul never meant to enter this realm.

In order to enter or leave this place now that he had entertained its practices, he had to follow its practices.

Atlas found his body being lifted off the scales and placed back on the ground. He walked to the edge of the marble drawbridge, peering over the side.

’He said I’ll go back to Purgatory

Anubis was not one to lie. Just… Atlas had a bit of trauma when it came to jumping into unknown darknesses.

He turned back to look at the God one more time.

It was a strange meeting. He was certain that hearing the voice of a Divine Being and standing in their presence would be a much more daunting experience, but it was different.

Perhaps Anubis was being considerate of him. It was also possible that it was due to his strange state as a living soul.

Still, something about this meeting felt incomplete.

"..."

Words didn’t leave his mouth, but did his intent make it across?

Anubis shook his head as if he understood what the young cultivator wanted.

[One time.]

One time, he would do it. Only because he knew that Atlas was truly a friend of Horus.

He raised his arm into the sky, holding the ankh above his head.

VOOOOOOOOM!

A great wave of power spread in all directions. The entire Underworld shook under its force.

The look in Anubis’ eyes changed. A black and gold aura surged around him. Now, Atlas felt like he truly was looking at the Guardian of the Scales.

He couldn’t help but grin.

A display of power from a God of Death as great as Anubis…

VOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"Something" appeared in this plane.

"Something" that Atlas could not fathom or describe.

It was the most beautiful symbolism of death he had ever witnessed, yet it was nothing more than a cloud of energy. It was a combination of every representation of death present in the Godly Society’s Legend, yet it was nothing more than a vague picture of nothingness.

A God.

A being that surpassed Atlas’ every imagination. A being that had reached a point so far beyond his comprehension that he could treat them like they were ordinary people.

This was the power that kind of being possessed. This was the power that existed at the very ends of the path of cultivation that Atlas was only just beginning.

’One day, I will stand there too.’

No, one day, he would stand above even this level of power.

Facing the torrent of Divine gold and black qi, Atlas jumped off of the drawbridge and fell through the darkness.

In the next moment, a beast of untold proportions rose out of the darkness. A massive gaping maw swallowed him whole, sending him spiraling into an entirely different realm.

It was a much, much grander exit than he ever could have expected it to be.

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