The siblings looked around at the shimmering, flowing streams of data, so different from the vibrant human world they remembered. He couldn't help but ask, "This isn't the human world—so where is this?"
The Lord of Order walking ahead answered calmly, "This is Heaven, the administrative center for finance."
"How is it different from the mortal realm?" the sibling pressed.
The Lord of Order halted and turned, explaining patiently, "The fundamental difference lies in the nature of 'existence.' In Heaven and Hell, even when mortals separate their souls from their bodies, the body does not die. They can even purchase or commission new vessels—this is entirely unlike the human world."
He shifted his tone to a more practical one: "And, well, essentially everything costs money here. Your current bodies are infused with divine power and are extremely precious in themselves, but their 'denomination' is too large—not suitable for daily use."
He flicked his fingers lightly, and two crystalline bracelets materialized in the siblings' palms, their surfaces shimmering with faint numerical displays. "This spending money should last you a month. Go wherever you wish." His tone abruptly turned serious, "But remember, do not go to the human world or Hell. You are not yet accustomed to your current bodies. Understood?"
Both siblings nodded in agreement.
Suddenly solemn, the Lord of Order stated, "If there's nothing else pressing, I too must attend to my duties."
When the siblings stepped out of the grand Hall of Fortune, a coolness instantly enveloped them—cool enough to feel slightly cold—and the weather was clear and sunny, a subtle contrast to the constant "comfort parameters" maintained inside the hall. Their bodies were simultaneously soaked in an unprecedented sense of weightlessness, as if gravity here were merely an adjustable suggestion.
"So this is the Heavenly Realm!" the elder brother exclaimed, his voice unusually clear in the exceptionally transparent air.
Before his words faded, the younger sister, with just a thought of "perhaps I could float," rose gently as if lifted by an invisible current. "Can everyone in Heaven fly? How convenient!" she cheered, trying to lean forward, and her body obediently glided ahead, the movement smooth as instinct.
Delighted by this unexpected gift, the siblings joyfully traced invisible paths across the sky of Heaven. In their ears, a multi-layered, perfectly melodic, and exceedingly cheerful chorus continuously played, delivering positive affirmations. However, soon after taking to the air, they noticed something odd—many people on the ground were looking up at them, some with even fervent tears glistening in their eyes. They flew for a long time, and within their line of sight, not a single person was soaring through the sky with their physical body like they were.
A chilling thought pierced both their minds simultaneously.
"Oh no, Brother, can only we fly like this?" the sister's voice dropped to a whisper, the remnants of joy instantly freezing over.
"Does everyone already know we are deities?... Landing now would be too awkward; it'd be like admitting it outright!" The elder brother's Adam's apple moved slightly, feeling as though every gaze from below was a tiny needle.
Their eyes met in a flash, instantly reaching a silent conspiracy: since they were already the center of attention, a panicked descent would only turn this unintended act into a clumsy joke. Better to stay calm and keep flying! After all, as deities—who had the right to question the very nature of a deity's actions?
So they forcibly relaxed their facial muscles, fixed their gazes on the distant emptiness, and continued their flight amidst the heated silence below, striving to maintain a deliberately crafted air of elegant nonchalance. As they flew, they observed that the Heavenly Realm enjoyed a fundamental freedom far beyond that of the mortal world. Its denizens were entirely focused on their immediate tasks, efficient as if engaged in a silent competition. The pressure was intangible yet immense, yet no one seemed dissatisfied, nor did anyone appear joyful. Even the dust seemed to follow an etiquette of not settling.
"Is this Heaven?" the sister murmured quietly. Though superior to the human world in many aspects, a homogeneous, smooth sense of oppression was everywhere. "What then must Hell be like?"
With such complex thoughts, they explored a little more before eventually returning.
Upon their return, Pangu greeted them with a radiant, cloudless smile: "Welcome home!"
"We just left! How can you be back so soon?" the sister asked in surprise.
Pangu laughed heartily, his laughter echoing in the hall, incongruous with the surroundings: "Silly children, I spent a full six months in the human world! It remains as lovely as ever."
The difference in the flow of time left the siblings speechless. Pangu eagerly asked, "Did you enjoy yourselves?"
The elder brother didn't respond to that, instead pointing directly to the core issue: "In Heaven… isn't everyone supposed to be able to fly?"
Pangu's smile faltered. A flicker, like a stream of data, flashed through his pupils before he suddenly slapped his forehead. "Look at my ingrained habits—I forgot to explain. Souls can naturally leave their bodies and roam freely, but only divine bodies can fly while carrying their physical form. To me, it's as natural as breathing, so natural it never occurred to me to mention it."
This "taken-for-granted" explanation instantly illuminated all their previous awkwardness. Gathering their courage, the siblings described their experiences living in the mortal world—the exhaustion, aging, and the omnipresent social stratification.
Pangu listened, his brow slightly furrowed, the wrinkles mingling confusion with a faint, almost imperceptible resistance. "Those are merely localized phenomena, rare exceptions. You must have misinterpreted what you saw," he asserted, as if correcting an obvious error.
Seeing his disbelief, the siblings poured out the hardships they had endured as mortals, their words plain as gravel, landing with a heavy weight.
Hearing this, the eternal, leisurely composure on Pangu's face suddenly cracked. Shock and dismay seeped from the fissures, as if some foundational protocol had encountered an incomprehensible anomaly.
The siblings gazed at their father, their tone sincere and firm:
"Father, this is the reality we witnessed with our own eyes."