Statement of purpose
Confidential Report: Threat Assessment
Author of report: Alexandro Konanikomos, serene ambassador from the Solar State.
Target of inquiry: Our mighty saviors, the Republic of Heaven.
Conflict of interest: None. The author is not dead, nor has he ever been.
This report recapitulates my observations during my visit to the nine circles of Heaven, located within the city of the same name. I received a sanctioned tour of the city in my capacity as a representative of the Solar State, as part of the Celestial Cultural Exchange Program for the Promotion of Faith. This program was approved by Heaven’s ruling body, the Council of Twelve, for the official purpose of dispelling deviant thinking among Heaven’s vassals.
My arrival
My planar portal left me outside the City of Heaven, where I was welcomed by my guide and his security escort. My guide was a tall, well-dressed angel with a charming and welcoming demeanor. The escort consisted of twenty angels dressed in armor and armed with spears and shields, marching with impeccable discipline. We crossed the distance between the portal and the gates of Heaven, giving me the opportunity to observe the city’s surroundings: a vast, empty plane of jagged rocks extending as far as the eye could see. Above us was a bright blue sky that seemed to radiate light without the need for a sun. The city shone in the distance, impossibly white and bright, yet its light did not hurt the eyes.
As we drew closer, I could see that the city was surrounded by a vast shantytown called the Underblessed Colony, inhabited by the souls of those whom the Council of Twelve values the least. They remained far from the road, gathered to chant in weak voices, and ran away as we approached. Several of them appeared to be nonhuman. I asked my guide about them, but he seemed to consider the whole colony beneath him and insisted that we ignore what we saw there. He also assured me repeatedly that only humans and angels were allowed inside the city.
We arrived at the gates of Heaven, an imposing and beautiful structure. However, the actual entrance was a portal placed at the base of the gate, heavily guarded and controlled through a vast system of checkpoints. My guide informed me that the circles of Heaven are not physically connected. Instead, they are more like concentric planes contained within the city and linked by portals.
Additional notes
The walls and gates of the city serve a military purpose. They are extremely tall and thick, embedded with advanced war machinery pointing toward the flat wasteland surrounding the city. All the systems seem to be in absolute disrepair, as if they have not been used in centuries. The opening of the gate itself is obstructed from the outside by sand and buildings, leaving the portals as the only point of access. I observed only sparse garrisons along the defenses, composed of disinterested angels who killed time by destroying buildings in the Underblessed Colony.
Personal notes
The oracle’s preliminary reports did not account for the checkpoints. Request return of the flesh guarantee.
Circle 1: The Humble Labyrinth
As we crossed the portal, we entered a closed, narrow space. The floor, walls, and ceiling were covered in cold, white, shiny stone. Our steps echoed sharply. Paintings on the walls depicted the path to the afterlife. Some even referred to outdated concepts that had fallen out of canon ages ago.
My guide explained that this circle was intended to prepare souls before they joined the other circles. Souls would become lost in the labyrinth and spend time processing the memories of their lives and deaths on their own, all while being enlightened by the sobriety of the labyrinth and its paintings. But that was in the past. The Council of Twelve, in its wisdom, has decided that this process is too inefficient and that the Republic of Heaven cannot spend time and resources waiting for souls to stop being sad before putting them to productive use.
We crossed the labyrinth through a crudely drilled path that cut straight through it and was clearly marked by a yellow line. Alongside us, newly arrived souls walked slowly in confusion. The path was flanked by more senior-looking souls who compelled them to keep moving. We reached the next portal at a good pace.
Additional notes
I saw some souls and angels wandering far from the path, and I could also hear footsteps in the distance. My guide told me that they were deranged members of Heaven who seemed to enjoy walking through the labyrinth to become depressed and ruminate about the old days. Heaven tolerates their behavior because it allows them to exile themselves from areas where their inadequacies might create discord.
Personal notes
The echoing qualities of the labyrinth are truly remarkable. I believe I can hear sounds originating kilometers away: footsteps, screams, and even scratches.
Circle 2: The Wingless Hive
The second circle consists of a dense collection of spires extending into the open sky, connected by hanging bridges. These spires house most of the human souls in the realms. The ground-level streets were crowded and chaotic, with human souls working frenetically at minor tasks. As we walked, humans threw themselves out of our way as soon as they recognized our angelic escorts. Walking soon became inconvenient, so I boarded a chariot prepared in advance by my host. Our escorts pulled it into the air, and I rode beside my guide.
From there, I could see the magnitude of the circle. The spires continued as far as the eye could see, growing stranger the farther I looked. Some were clearly built around industrial chimneys, while others seemed to resemble human faces. There was no point of calm in sight.
I also saw a group of living humans who regarded us with far less respect than the other souls. I asked my guide about them, and he informed me that they were not real humans but angels whose wings had been torn off by the Council as punishment for their insolence, never to grow back. They were forced to live among the wingless as an additional insult. He did not seem particularly concerned by their attitude, but he wrote down names and numbers on a piece of paper.
We arrived at the portal connecting this circle to the next and disembarked from the chariot. There was ample space to walk, as the portal was once again controlled by checkpoints, although these appeared more solemn and less military than those at the gates of Heaven.
Additional notes
From the chariot, I saw two winged angels engaged in an intense discussion, surrounded by a crowd of human souls. My guide informed me that some of the most intellectually uneasy angels spend their time in the Wingless Hive to achieve greater theological clarity by walking among the meek. They also tend to gather small entourages of human souls to whom they preach their theological views.
When two of these angels encounter one another, they begin a theological debate in which each denounces the other as a heretic and praises the holiness of his own vision. Their arguments are strengthened by their followers, who are expended in ritualistic battle. The outcomes of these arguments tend to be recorded by human onlookers, although their accounts frequently differ, which sparks further rounds of deadly debate.
My guide admitted that the process is somewhat wasteful and that its outcomes are difficult to track, with the same discussions sometimes repeating themselves ad nauseam. However, he claimed that some of the most amusing arguments have emerged from these exchanges and that the process keeps the angels’ minds sharp and protects them from complacency.
Personal notes
Most arguments were misquotations from On the Honesty of Pain by Lucious Perfidious, but the one about loving your neighbor was quite novel.
Circle 3: The Testing Fields
The third circle was the first in which I felt a sense of deliberate order rather than the chaos of the previous circles. Several gates opened onto linear queues of human souls awaiting judgment. There was also an exit line of distressed souls who had failed their judgments and were being shoved back to where they had come from. The souls in the waiting lines did not seem to mind. They were too fixated on their own queues, their faces full of excitement. Some talked to themselves about the great joys to come, while others found conversation partners with whom to share their enthusiasm.
The lines extended across a great open plaza of white stone beneath a clear blue sky, where beautiful cumulus clouds floated at a lazy pace. In the distance, the queues led into stadiums, which the souls entered one at a time.
My guide showed me one of the stadiums where a judgment was taking place. A single soul stood in the middle of the field, beneath an angelic judge seated atop an enormously tall table. The seats closest to the field were filled with angels whose only purpose appeared to be looking threatening. Higher in the stands, other angels watched the event with casual interest. More angels flew in every direction above the open ceiling, casting passing glances at our stadium. They seemed to be exchanging news about which judgments were becoming exciting.
Our own event, however, appeared to have lost its entertainment value. There had been so much accusatory screaming from the judge that the soul had collapsed into a gibbering mess capable only of terror and self-contempt. My guide lamented that we had encountered such a pitiful event, swearing that some judgments were truly spectacles worth watching. He mentioned one of his favorites, in which the judge was incinerated by the purity of the judged soul as soon as he delivered his first accusation. It took centuries for his feathers to grow back.
My guide then led me past the stadiums, where the accepted souls marched with great pride toward the exit of the circle to fulfill their duties on the other side.
Additional notes
Past the stadiums, I saw several proud-looking souls escorted by angels dressed in the most elaborate and impressive outfits I had yet seen. My guide informed me that these angels occupied the recently created position of educator, ensuring that the worthiest souls received proper instruction in heavenly dogma. I saw one soul being escorted into what appeared to be a school building, although flashes of light came from several of its windows.
I asked my guide what had driven these recent changes. He told me that they were merely part of the normal pace of reform, but he seemed amused by the memories my question had evoked.
Personal notes
The judge’s switch to version 2.9.1 of the Directory of Sins made excellent use of the accused’s fear of rejection. I should rejoin the theater club.
Circle 4: The Celestial Forge
This was the first circle in which I felt truly humbled. We arrived in a dense industrial area, with factories that seemed to extend in every direction. I heard loud banging from the buildings, while dark clouds of incense rose from their chimneys. Beside us, an angel led a column of human souls clad in heavy armor. My guide explained that, in this circle, the light of Heaven shines without end, powering the industries to produce everything a celestial crusade might require.
We entered an open square surrounded by portals similar to the one through which I had arrived, although these were wider. The space above us was occupied by a crowd of angels flying frantically between the portals and delivering new instructions to their operators. An endless stream of armored souls marched through every portal. I did not see anyone emerge from them.
Among the marching souls, I saw an enormous humanoid robot with wings. My guide informed me that I had been fortunate enough to witness a crusading knight. Only the most devout and skilled souls are granted the honor of piloting one of these deadly machines. I suggested that we move on, as the heat and noise were becoming unbearable.
Noticing my distress, my guide invited me into the Factory of Care to soothe my mind. Inside, we found the workers in a calm and welcoming environment, holding their hands over small, fur-covered bear figurines, each marked with a different symbol on its belly. As they worked, their serene expressions turned sour and the color drained from their faces, while the figurines radiated a sense of loving warmth. After the figurines were placed inside a box, the shadows in the room grew sharper.
My guide informed me that it was essential to keep the frontline commanders well supplied with units of care so that the dead-to-wounded ratio among Heaven’s troops remained at an acceptable level. I asked whether too many units of care might cause the commanders to feel compassion for their enemies. He told me that, although this was theoretically possible, it had never happened.
Additional notes
On our way out, we saw the most heavily guarded building I had encountered thus far. My guide informed me that it was the infirmary, where those wounded in the crusades were taken. I asked why it was so heavily guarded, and he explained that it also served as Heaven’s mint. Once a soul has given itself in battle, it is permitted to provide one final service to Heaven by being forged into powerful currency.
Personal notes
I should get rid of my Heavenly coins. I’m tired of hearing them cry.
Circle 5: The Low Aviary
This was the first circle in which I was unable to walk. The place was designed exclusively for flying creatures, so I had to remain inside our chariot. However, I had the impression that the entrance to the circle had been left deliberately empty, probably as a way of humiliating any wingless creature that wandered into it.
Most of Heaven’s angels live in this circle. Unlike the Wingless Hive, it seemed to have been built with love and care in mind. We flew between beautiful spires that extended farther upward and downward than my eyes could see. Inside them, angels worked diligently at their crafts, producing exquisite furniture, beautiful paintings, and elegant machines.
My guide appeared unimpressed and warned me not to become too invested in the local underclass, as greater glory awaited us. I could understand what he meant. Once the initial shock to my human mind had passed, however, I noticed that the angels appeared to be overworked.
We also saw a gathering inside a temple, where angels prayed desperately and en masse before little statues on the altar. Among the worshippers, an angel of great stature flew slowly through the temple, making grandiose gestures of blessing toward random individuals, who squirmed pitifully in response. I became extremely uncomfortable and focused instead on my guide’s enthusiastic account of where to find the best discounts on wing jewelry.
During our journey, we flew past a mural in progress. I recognized its subject immediately: Victory over Underdark, with the same composition of figures that we had learned about in school. However, there was something very wrong with the painting. All the angelic forces were depicted correctly, including the famous angel stabbing the Underlord with the Lance of Santinius. The clothing and architecture of the Underdarkians, however, were wrong. They closely resembled those found in the Realm of Kalagari. I could even see the famous Kalagarian Justice Palace in the background.
I made an offhand comment to my guide, suggesting that the artists working on the mural appeared confused about the identity of Heaven’s enemies. He asked me to ignore it, as it was intended to be displayed during the visit of the Kalagarian ambassador, who was scheduled to arrive after me. Again, he appeared to enjoy the thoughts this inspired, this time with a more sadistic gleam in his eyes.
Additional notes
In one of the spires, I recognized an angel from the Wingless Hive. He wore a pair of well-crafted artificial wings, which the other angels did not appear to recognize as false. He was listening to a passionate speaker inside a poorly lit room filled with other angels, about half of whom also wore artificial wings.
Our eyes met, and we recognized each other. He looked surprised, then angry. He placed a finger against his lips before drawing it across his throat. Using my diplomatic finesse, I convinced him that I had not seen him by loudly congratulating the sculptor working in the room directly above, as though the sculptor’s work had held my attention all along. The wingless angel quickly lowered his head and covered his eyes. My guide appeared mildly amused by my enthusiasm. I decided not to press my luck and did not mention the encounter to him.
Personal notes
Heaven appears poorly equipped to identify dissenters. There may be a business opportunity here for the Security Department.
Circle 6: The High Aviary
Now I could see what my guide had meant. Here was the true glory of paradise in all its splendor, and I must admit that it moved me. I saw no pain, no tiredness, and no sickness. Only row after row of angels living their best lives. I noticed that my guide was smugly pleased with my reaction. Even so, I could not conceal my admiration.
With his gaze turned upward, he informed me that the aristocracy of Heaven lived here and that being born in this circle was the worthiest goal any creature could pursue. I asked what he meant, and my question took him aback. For a moment, he seemed confused, as though he had not realized that he was speaking aloud. He excused himself, claiming that he was in dire need of what he called loving educational reinforcement, and left me with my escorts for several hours.
When he returned, his behavior had reverted completely to the straightforward and informative manner he had displayed earlier in our journey. However, I noticed that his posture had become less dignified. The members of our escort appeared visibly uncomfortable and avoided making eye contact with him. He continued informing me about the properties of the circle as we traveled.
I also saw theologians in this circle, similar to those in the Wingless Hive. However, while the theologians of the lower circles had appeared agitated, those here expressed a profound calm. I also recognized the tall angel from the Low Aviary as one of them, bringing peace to his flock. Here, however, the theologians seemed to bring peace to the entire circle.
Their functions were diverse. Some appeared to bring harmony to the buildings themselves, while others brought pleasure to the minds of the local inhabitants. During our journey, my guide had a particularly awkward interaction with one of these theologians. He performed several military salutes with a forced smile, stretching his posture to an extreme that was clearly painful. In response, the theologian stared at him with what I can only describe as loving satisfaction.
Additional notes
My guide showed me an exhibition where I saw the infamous Dogma of Life’s Meaning by the Incomplete Apostle. I could not suppress a gasp of fear, which greatly pleased my guide. The artifact still appears in classified threat briefings issued by the Security Department, but the devastation it caused to the Second Brotherhood of Man has never been disclosed to the Solar State public.
I asked my guide whether we were in any danger in the presence of the book, but he assured me that its destructive power had been neutralized centuries earlier through the heroic sacrifice of angelic logicians, who had refuted each of its lines at the cost of their minds and lives. He then pointed to a long list of angelic names engraved on the pillar supporting the book.
With increasing irritation, he explained that the list was deceptive because it did not mention how many lines each angel had refuted. He declared with great emphasis that his great-grandfather had single-handedly refuted four lines, while the Vex family, which he referred to as those fools, had managed to refute only one after sacrificing three generations.
I decided not to pursue such a sensitive subject, but I took one of the miniature copies of the book from the gift shop.
Personal notes
Keep it professional. Don’t lose your composure. Stop thinking about the High Aviary.
Circle 7: The Eternal Observatory
The next layer brought us back down to earth. Figuratively, obviously. We were able to walk on the ground and found ourselves surrounded by very tall buildings topped with astronomical observatories. For the first time, I saw no one flying, and the sky was cloudless and crystal clear. Although the streets were narrow, the place had been designed to inspire awe and curiosity rather than dread.
My guide informed me that this was a place of study, where Heaven’s Intelligence Command scoured the universe below for new worlds to conquer and new gods to bind. I asked whether the circle had once been devoted to academic pursuits. He gladly told me that the distinction was the product of an imperfect mind and that academic and military pursuits are one and the same.
We visited one of the observatories, where we saw an old-looking angel frantically scribbling notes on a long scroll that seemed to extend throughout the room. He continually switched between telescopes, always holding two at the same time, one to each eye.
Behind him, a group of young-looking angels sat in a circle around a floating stone. With their eyes closed, they held hands and chanted a soft mantra. The stone remained suspended in the air, with one sharp edge pointing downward at an angle, but occasionally it began to vibrate. Whenever this happened, the angels raised the volume of their chanting and tightened their faces as though in pain until the stone returned to its stable position. One of them would then record several numbers on a slip of paper and place it inside a folder beside the old angel labeled Candidates.
My guide then took me to the war room, where several generals were discussing maps that stretched across the floor and walls. I recognized the names of several places, each accompanied by notes that looked as though they had been erased and rewritten repeatedly. The Realm of Kalagari was marked there, and its notes were among the most heavily rewritten on the maps.
I did not know why my guide had allowed me to see these secrets. I suspected that this was one of Heaven’s intimidation techniques. Heaven wanted me to believe that it was too powerful to concern itself with hiding its vulnerabilities. I also realized that the generals’ discussions were not exclusively military. They were debating deep philosophical questions about the meaning of the Council’s orders and how that meaning changed from world to world. For example, the meaning of enlightenment seemed to depend heavily on a world’s climate.
I managed to understand one of the subjects under discussion, articulated by one of the most grounded-looking generals. Heaven appeared to be overstretched by its conquests, and abandoning any front could provoke a cascading collapse of both its military effort and its authority over its vassals. The solution seemed to depend upon finding new sources of faith, although none of the generals’ proposals for accomplishing this made any sense to me.
Additional notes
I noticed that all the observatory towers had straps preventing their telescopes from pointing directly upward. These restraints looked extremely ugly and out of place among the beautiful towers. They had been fastened with crude metal bolts in such a cruel manner that the towers themselves appeared to be in pain.
Only one tower lacked such a restraint, and its telescope pointed directly upward. However, the tower appeared to have been destroyed by some kind of fire, and the surrounding buildings lay in ruins. I asked my guide why no one had repaired it. He looked at me with wide-open eyes and shook his head. I did not press the question.
Personal notes
Those debates over the meaning of orders brought back terrible memories. I’m so grateful that our office uses thought inserts now.
Circle 8: The Iron Claw
In the next layer, we ran out of floor again, so I had to return to the chariot. We were surrounded by beautiful, slowly moving white clouds. However, the place did not inspire joy. Instead, I felt a growing dread crawling through my body. Among the clouds, I could occasionally see floating metal boxes tied to the unseen ground by great chains.
My guide informed me that we had arrived at the celestial prison, where Heaven stores its greatest enemies. Among its most notorious inmates is the Underlord himself. I became excited and requested a visit to the famous archenemy. My guide was very pleased with my reaction, but he informed me that, unfortunately, the Underlord’s cage lay deep within the circle, in a place not intended for casual visitors.
Instead, he invited me to visit the cage of the mighty beast [REDACTED], which had spread terror and desolation across the planes before being captured by Heaven eons ago. I accepted with some hesitation, as I had never heard of such a beast, but the history of Heaven extends far beyond what we are permitted to know.
My guide directed our escorts to take us down, and they moaned in discomfort. He glared at the escort leader. In response, the leader crushed something in his hand. All the escorts became quiet and very still.
As we descended, I felt the dread growing within me. I could see it in the others as well, and even my guide betrayed his emotions through involuntary jerks of his wings. We passed several cages from which I heard low-pitched cries. From one of them came a whisper, but I covered my ears before I could make any sense of the message.
Suddenly, my guide stopped the descent and instructed the escorts to take us back up. He told me that it was not advisable to continue in such weather and lamented that I would miss such a majestic spectacle. This time, he did not smile.
We began ascending, but before we emerged above the clouds, the escort leader stopped the chariot in front of one of the cages. The escorts gave a military salute, which was acknowledged by a vigorous voice from inside. My guide complained, but the leader reminded him that ranks are not revoked as punishment. He added that this was particularly relevant to an angel of my guide’s rank. My guide was about to reply, but the appeal to self-preservation appeared to make an impression on him, and he allowed the salute to be completed.
I asked my guide why angels of high rank were being imprisoned, given Heaven’s honored tradition of punishing them with exile. He adopted an intellectual tone and explained that the Council of Twelve had implemented extensive reforms throughout Heaven, doing away with backward traditions unsuited to the present age of glory.
He then proudly announced that the Council, in its wisdom and generosity, had even imprisoned some of its closest friends and allies, sacrificing its own peace of mind for the good of all Heaven. I asked whether the Council had imprisoned any of its vassals as well, but he seemed amused by the idea that a vassal could ever be close to a Council member.
Additional notes
At the checkpoint before the exit portal, my guide took some time to speak with the wardens of the circle. He complained bitterly that their failure to suppress the prisoners’ energies had ruined his special event. I noticed that the sign above the portal, which indicated the circle to which it led, was different from the others. Exit signs are usually heavy and immutable, carved in stone, but this one appeared to have been rewritten several times. I recognized the faint traces of the names of several lower circles.
While my guide was occupied, I asked the escort leader about the sign. He seemed to take the question very seriously. With great solemnity, he explained that the thoughts of Council members possess great power over Heaven. Their friends fill not only this prison but also their nightmares. Over the centuries, the Council’s guilt has drawn the Iron Claw from below the Humble Labyrinth to where it now rests, just beneath their beds.
After explaining, he closed his eyes, offered a short prayer for the safety of the Council of Twelve, and returned to his guard position, looking rather sad. When my guide returned, the escort leader requested additional loving educational reinforcement.
Personal notes
Stop trying to write the name of the beast. It keeps making my document explode into little spiders.
Circle 9: The Boundless Cradle
Before entering the final layer, my guide took a moment to compose himself, assumed a solemn posture, and instructed our escorts to remain behind. He informed me that we were about to enter the circle where the Council of Twelve resided and that we should conduct ourselves with dignity. I stepped out of the chariot and crossed the gate with him.
We arrived in an open, empty space where all I could see was a flat, shiny blue floor extending to the horizon. Then I looked upward and saw an enormous open rift in the sky. Changing hues emerged from it and altered the color of the floor. They did not behave like light, as the color of the landscape never matched the color visible within the rift.
My guide informed me that the rift connected to the Twister of Emptiness, a realm beyond life and death. He suggested that I stop looking at it directly. He did not look at it himself, although he did not seem in a hurry for me to follow his advice. He told me that the Council had opened the rift to commune with the unknowable powers beyond and bask in their wisdom. He appeared very confident in this account, but I knew that such rifts could not be opened from only one side. I decided not to mention this.
He invited me to walk forward through the empty space. As we moved, the outlines of buildings began to appear around us, although I could still see emptiness beyond them. The entire layer seemed to be concealed by some kind of invisibility effect that dissipated at close range. Or maybe we were phasing in and out across immense distances. It was impossible to know. The blue floor extended without limit in every direction, and the entrance gate was nowhere to be seen. The rift, however, remained fixed high above us.
We walked among many strange buildings that appeared to exist only to serve the Council in its governance and spiritual activities. We saw no one inside them, and I could not understand how the buildings served any purpose. Such was the confusion they inspired in me.
Suddenly, three enormous thrones became visible before us. My guide appeared startled at first, but after a few moments, he seemed to recognize what he was seeing. He dropped to one knee and assumed an even more solemn demeanor.
He told me that we had been blessed by the appearance of three of the Council’s thrones. Although they were currently empty, each throne was assigned to a Council member, and that assignment defined the member’s role in guiding the Republic of Heaven. These positions rotated every decade. Twelve thrones existed in total, one for each member of the Council, and each had been created through the enlightened wisdom of one of the powers beyond the rift.
Each throne bore a recently engraved inscription in Angelic, naming its current occupant and describing the virtues that occupant bestowed upon Heaven. When I looked more closely, I noticed that each throne also bore an older, more deeply carved inscription in Abyssal. My guide appeared unaware of these older inscriptions. This was strange, as Abyssal had formed part of my diplomatic training. Surely an angel of his station would possess extensive knowledge of languages, unless that knowledge had been repressed.
Although the inscriptions in each pair were phrased differently, they did not contradict each other. Both described the same function of the throne on which they appeared. The Angelic inscription attributed that function to the current occupant and praised it as a virtue. The Abyssal inscription omitted the occupant and reduced the function to a single direct term.
The inscriptions read as follows:
Left throne
- Angelic: Mutablo, the healer of souls, restores cognitive coherence to the minds of Heaven’s inhabitants and fills their empty lives with meaning.
- Abyssal: Throne of Lies
Right throne
- Angelic: Kripka, the protector of life, blesses Heaven’s inhabitants with knowledge of their impending destruction and the steps they must take to prevent it.
- Abyssal: Throne of Threats
Central throne
- Angelic: Palun, the giver of gifts, provides Heaven’s inhabitants with generous rewards for virtuously following his commands.
- Abyssal: Throne of Domination
My guide then announced that our diplomatic visit had concluded. He explained that the encounter with the thrones had granted me the highest degree of heavenly cultural enrichment available short of meeting a Council member in person.
Additional notes
As we left, I had the misfortune of accidentally touching one of the sacred objects in our path. Everything suddenly turned black, although I could still see the dark outline of my guide. Enormous eyes opened around me and slowly turned their pupils toward me. I remained frozen, with every pupil fixed upon me, for what felt like hours. Eventually, the pupils began to turn away, and the eyes blinked out of existence.
Color returned to the world. My guide stood in front of me, looking impatient, as though I had been fooling around.
Personal notes
Stay awake for now.
My return
As we walked toward the exit, the presence of the rift began to weigh heavily on me, and I felt that I was being watched from behind. When we arrived at the Iron Claw, I realized that the rift was still visible in the sky. I asked why we could still see it, but my guide and our escorts assured me that it had always been visible.
As we descended through the circles, I continued to see the rift. It appeared farther and farther away, but I could still feel its presence weighing upon me. In the Celestial Forge, my guide requested additional protection because there appeared to be trouble ahead. Several human souls wearing light armor and carrying shields and batons boarded our chariot.
Among them, I recognized my old friend Karolious from the Department for Xenocide. He looked as fresh as he had on the morning of his death, when he was devoured by a specimen, except that his eyes had expanded to enormous proportions. During the short time we had together, he told me that his time in the Republic of Heaven had been mostly enjoyable and that he hoped to see me among the ranks of the worthy someday.
We crossed the Wingless Hive, which was almost deserted. When we reached the Underblessed Colony, we found it in chaos. It appeared that one of the angels in the garrison had gone too far in relieving his boredom, and now the souls were running through the colony chanting unauthorized prayers.
Karolious said goodbye and leaped into the fray, wielding his baton. He seemed particularly gleeful when targeting the nonhuman souls, perhaps as an echo of his living days.
The chariot carried me into the wasteland and left me before the portal through which I had arrived. My guide stood before me, with the rift still visible behind him and a column of smoke beginning to rise from the Underblessed Colony. With a serious, professional demeanor, he said that he hoped I had enjoyed my visit. His eyes shone once again with sadistic pleasure.
He then excused himself to prepare for the visit of the Kalagarian ambassador and returned to the chariot with joyful little hops. I crossed the portal, and at last the presence of the rift disappeared.
Personal notes
Renew my prescription for anti-abyssotic protection against the Twister of Emptiness.
Final assessment
Level of threat: Imminent.
The Republic of Heaven is growing increasingly erratic and unstable. It is only a matter of time before our saviors turn their telescopes upon us.