Chapter 898: A Good Show (Part 1)

The faint crackle of burning spices sounded like wind rustling through dense foliage; smoke curled from the incense burner, and afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, causing the heavy curtains beside it to sway slightly.

A hand rested on the desk, long fingers gripping a feather quill as it carefully inscribed ancient script; the armlet on the wrist and golden tattoos along the forearm signaled his exalted status.

"Clinking," came the sound of earrings colliding; the long black ears atop his head twitched, and Anubis narrowed his eyes, gazing at the document in his hand.

"Lord Anubis! I've come for today's personnel list!" Another black wolf-headed man entered, resembling Anubis in appearance.

He rubbed his ear, bared his teeth, and said: "Lately, business has gotten crazily busy—we shouldn't have taken on the Reception Department's workload. We're the only ones swamped in all of Heaven; the Asgardians would rather brawl in the square than come help us…"

"Stop complaining," Anubis said, his voice hoarse and barely intelligible; he glanced at the documents on the desk. "What's wrong with the Registration staff? Why are there so many duplicate names?"

The wolf-headed man at the door flicked his ear, tilted his head, stepped forward, and glanced at the documents on Anubis's desk. "Oh, you mean these? These are members from Heaven—they all carry strange titles."

"For example, this word, translated into our language, means 'General'—this one is a high-ranking General, this one is less powerful, this one is the same; this term roughly means noble or minister…"

The wolf-headed man shrugged. "They only established this system in recent years—Generals have multiple ranks, Ministers too. These duplicates are their rank titles, not names—the names come after."

"Why did so many of them arrive at once?" Anubis turned a page and spoke slowly.

His subordinate shook his head. "I don't know, but the Archangel told me to notify him when they're nearing. Oh, and if you've signed these, I need to deliver them to Her Majesty."

The wolf-headed man bared his teeth again. "Lately, Lord Kong Su is gone—no one knows where. Her Majesty has had to take over his duties, and she's been furious with the workload. If we don't hurry, she'll come looking for you again."

Anubis's hand paused briefly on the documents, then he pushed the stack across the desk. "Take them. If similar lists come again, don't bring them to me—their names give me a headache."

The wolf-headed man nodded, took the documents, and turned to leave. Anubis turned toward the window, gazing through the ornate curtains: the garden square outside was bathed in perfect sunlight.

"Take this!" Steve spun and delivered an elbow strike, then ducked under a punch, wrapped his arms around the opponent's waist, and slammed him to the ground.

The man across from him was a burly, bearded warrior in armor; he rose reluctantly, slapped his arm, and said: "Midgardian, you've got some skill. Again!"

"Wait, we've already gone six or seven rounds—why not give others a chance?" Steve jumped in place, rolling his shoulders. "I want to try your spears—I've never used a cold weapon before…"

"Peter! Peter! Come here—try against this General! They say he's the champion of Asgard's Gladiatorial Games and even received praise from Odin Himself. Come on…"

Peter glanced left and right, looking uneasy. "But Mr. Stark told me to go to the lab—he said Dr. Shiler's building looks like a caveman's cave, and he wants me to redesign the structural framework."

Steve stood on the ring, arms crossed, watching him. Peter hesitated a few seconds, then set his files on the nearby bench, leapt onto the ring in three strides, and rolled his wrists. "Alright, I haven't fought in a long time…"

The bearded warrior sized Peter up. "Where'd this kid come from? He's skinnier than a bean sprout—wants to fight? Go eat more…" "Oh!"

Steve crossed his arms, watching as Peter wrapped his arms around the warrior's waist and charged right off the ring, pinning him hard to the ground. Steve sighed, shaking his head—Peter's appearance was so deceiving.

Even now, Peter remained thin; though his muscles were defined, he still looked like a nimble-type fighter—but in truth, his physical strength was terrifyingly immense.

So his idea of "fighting" was simply overpowering his opponent. The reason he hadn't fought in so long was because everyone knew this—after Stark had two combat mechs destroyed by Peter, he refused to spar with Spider-Man ever again.

"Hey! Hey! Break it up! You cheated, Peter! Mind your manners—don't pull the guy's beard…" Steve called out, laughing, as Peter stood up from the warrior and shrugged.

"I'll take you on!" Another fully armed female warrior stepped forward. "Since I received the King's message and was transported directly from Sakaar to the Hall of Heroes, I haven't fought anyone—come on!"

Peter turned and saw a powerful Valkyrie. As they walked toward the ring, a small robot bearing Stark's logo flew over, and Stark's voice came from inside:

"Stop playing! Come back… if you're even interested in this boring show."

Peter and Steve exchanged glances, then walked together toward the heavenly palace halfway up the mountain.

Almost simultaneously, in the chapel where soul transmissions first arrived, the room suddenly filled to capacity within seconds.

Countless dazed souls, still reeling from the terror of death, wore expressions of fear and grotesque shock.

After a moment, as the blinding white light faded, they stared blankly at the scene before them.

Then, from the chapel's entrance, two wolf-headed men emerged, holding a list, scanning the souls before them, and called out: "General Jared! General Jared! Are you here?"

One man suddenly snapped to awareness and answered instinctively: "Yes, I'm here… Where is this? Wasn't I…?"

"Mae? Senator Mae? Oh, over here…"

Names were called one by one, awakening the dazed souls; the chapel echoed with noise, everyone bewildered.

"Didn't I die? Someone attacked the safehouse—an explosion… it hurt—I saw my own limbs…"

"Oh God, where is this? Is this Heaven? But why are there so many people here? Why didn't the Lord's messenger come for me alone?"

"Oh my God, Cassandra?? You're here too? Is this Hell? Jesus, save me…"

"Lord, I've served you faithfully my whole life—am I finally returning to your embrace?"

"Quiet! All of you, be silent!" One wolf-headed man raised his voice. "No shouting! Silence is required here!"

"What's going on? Where are we?" The General frowned, scanning the surroundings. The wolf-headed man cleared his throat, waved his spear. "Line up! Someone's here to see you! Follow us to the conference room!"

"Stop complaining! This is Heaven—you're all dead. Settle down and get in line!"

Everyone felt disbelief, but the glow from the wolf-headed men's spears sent sharp pains through their bodies; some looked down and saw their forms had turned translucent.

Souls with insufficient vitality could not maintain solid form—some elderly generals were nearly invisible.

"I'm really dead?? This is my soul?? What did he just say?! This is Heaven?! Merciful Lord…" One younger General crossed himself and began praying; sobs spread through the crowd, everyone thanking God in tears.

"I died for my country—I deserve Heaven!" one man declared. "The Lord is just and merciful…"

"Correct! I never broke any commandments, worked tirelessly my whole life, donated tens of millions to charity—I deserve Heaven!" another shouted.

But the General frowned—he sensed something wrong. Leaving aside whether their deeds qualified them for Heaven, even if they did, why were they all crammed together? Just because they died simultaneously?

And several among them followed different religious branches—some even held contradictory beliefs—how could they all end up in the same Heaven?

"Alright, hurry up and follow me—I told you someone's waiting. If you're late, I won't be held responsible."

The wolf-headed men herded everyone forward. Most were still stunned, but some questioned: "Shouldn't angels be greeting us in Heaven? Why do these figures look like Egyptian jackals?"

"What's a conference room? Shouldn't the Lord himself be meeting us?"

After leaving the initial chapel, they reached the grand garden. It was indeed beautiful, but many frowned—they felt this didn't match Heaven's holy, radiant image; it looked more like a private estate.

Everyone's idea of Heaven differed, but nearly all imagined it without pyramids.

The most prominent structures near the garden were the pyramid and the Sphinx.

Originally, the Egyptian pantheon had taken over the entire Integrated Hall of Heroes' reception and registration duties, so their buildings stood closest to the chapel.

The Egyptian deities favored grandeur, so the entire garden featured only one massive pyramid standing alone.

Some devout believers convinced themselves, crossing themselves and whispering: "The Lord's glory spreads across the world—we are all His children…"

But when they reached the palace halfway up the mountain and saw the unmistakably church-like building, many sighed in relief, thinking the earlier scene had been a mirage.

Then, when the elevator doors opened, many grew suspicious—and when they spotted Stark's unmistakable logo on the elevator's bottom seam, a dread settled over them.

When they stepped out and saw the corridor—identical to the SHIELD base—most felt as if struck by a sledgehammer, utterly stunned.

And when Shiler appeared before them, every beautiful fantasy of Heaven shattered completely.