The two continued their stroll.
It took a moment for the young man to realize—_We've been walking in circles._
Not wasting a second, he asked,
"Excuse me?"
She didn't spare him a glance. "Yes?"
"I don't mean to doubt your sense of direction, but…" he paused. "Are you sure we're going the right way?"
"Of course," she said with a smirk. "Have a little faith."
'She's messing with me, right?' He sighed inwardly.
Maybe calling her a pigeon had come back to bite him.
Eventually, she led him to their actual destination.
In front of them stood a bridge—or at least half of one.
Like everything in this realm, it was exquisite in its simplicity. White marble. Modest in size. And yet, irresistibly eye-catching. The far half disappeared into the golden clouds.
The young man frowned.
'What's this?' She glanced at him.
Noticing his troubled expression, she asked, "Is everything alright?"
He quickly composed himself and nodded.
"All good." A fragile smile flickered on his face.
"Alright, I'll keep it short."
She launched into her explanation.
"Basically, when someone dies, they end up here—"
She paused. "—in the realm between life and death."
He looked at her, skeptical. 'Was the dramatic pause really necessary?'
Unbothered, she went on. "Of course, they don't retain their physical bodies here."
Feigning shock, he gasped and covered his mouth. "No way…"
She nodded, completely missing the sarcasm. "Only their souls make it here, taking on the shape of who they were in life."
She lifted her finger, twirling it. "The clarity of their form varies depending on the strength and depth of the soul. A weak soul is barely visible—foggy, unfocused. The stronger it is, the more 'present' the mind and body become."
With a raised brow, he interjected,
"So, you're saying the soul's presence is more prominent depending on its strength and depth?"
She lit up, snapping her fingers. "Yes! Exactly! That's what I was trying to say."
She chuckled. "Color me surprised. Didn't think you were actually smart—or, well, at least smarter than I assumed."
His face remained blank.
His thoughts, not so much: 'Are all angels this dense? Or did I just win the lottery of useless guides?'
Rubbing his temples, he muttered, "Thanks for the compliment... I guess."
He shook his head. Curiosity sharpened his gaze.
"Alright. And the bridge? What does it connect to?"
"Simple," she said, turning to face it.
"Once you step on it, your soul slowly begins to dissolve."
She pointed to the midpoint.
He followed her gesture.
"When you reach the center—where the clouds begin—your soul gets swept away and reborn on Earth."
She drew a circle in the air, and an orb of light appeared inside it.
"With no memory, of course. Blank slate."
She snapped her fingers, and the orb broke into tiny fragments, scattering into the wind.
After a pause, he asked, "You don't actually know 'how' the bridge works, do you?"
She shook her head with a shrug.
'Of course she doesn't.'
Disappointed by the simplistic explanation, he sighed.
"Anything else I should know?"
She turned toward him, thoughtful, then nodded.
"Yes. One last thing."
Her expression turned serious.
"Once you set foot on the bridge, there's no going back."
He finished the thought for her.
"The only way is forward."
She nodded. "Yes."
He stepped closer to the bridge. The golden clouds swirled ahead.
He glanced back one last time and said softly, "Well, no point wasting both our time."
A pause.
"Goodbye, miss."
Just as he was about to take that first step, she called out.
"Wait!"
He looked over his shoulder. "Something else?"
"There's another path," she said.
For the first time, confusion crossed his face.
"So… the bridge isn't the only way?"
She grinned, wings twitching with excitement.
"There's another path. One my Father made before He left this world behind."
She pointed skyward.
A colossal tree pierced the clouds like a divine spear.
"That tree. If you climb it, you'll reach a platform above the clouds. From there, a hidden river flows—a narrow, quiet stream. It doesn't lead back to Earth. It takes you somewhere else. A world He created in secret, before turning away from this one. Bigger. Stronger. A world where power isn't handed down, but earned."
She looked back at him. Her voice softened.
"But getting there isn't easy. The tree won't harm you, but it's nearly impossible to climb—too smooth, too wide. You'll need tools. Fall once… and you might not get another shot."
Her wings stilled. Her tone dropped lower.
"And time—time is your real enemy. The longer a soul lingers here, the more it fades. If you fade too far, the realm decides for you. You'll be dragged back to Earth, whether you want to or not. And if that happens… your soul weakens. A lot."
She gave him a look—half awe, half warning.
"Stronger souls last longer. Yours might be the strongest I've ever seen. But even you aren't immune. Only one kind of soul resists time completely: those marked with divinity. But for humans? That's… almost impossible."
A beat passed.
"Oh—and one last thing. The river? It's mostly safe. But rarely, a soul slips out. Falls between realms. If that happens, you wander. Forever. No rebirth. No rest. Just drifting."
She smiled again, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"So. Two paths. Your choice. I can't help you decide—I can only show you the way."
No hesitation.
"I'll take the second option, of course."
Her eyes widened. "Are you sure? Maybe take a moment to think—"
"No need. I've already spent my whole life knowing I didn't want to go back down there."
He turned toward the tree. "So please, just lead the way."
A beat. Then he added, with a wry smile,
"…And I assume you'll be supplying the gear?"