Following the strictly enforced architectural plan, which arranged all streets into a grid, Eleanor's shoes clapped on the cobblestone roads as she hurried towards the edge of the city.
Dazed newcomers passed her with looks of confusion evident on their faces, only murmurs and whispers escaping their lips.
None of these people looks like they're from Sea Fallen…
The blonde-haired girl had come to terms with the fact that out of the tens of thousands of inhabitants of her former home, it wasn't very likely that she would find—in time—the few that she did know, such as her friend Olivia.
She, having been killed by that girl's brother, who had been corrupted into a Dark Angel, wouldn't be dropped alongside the other souls, and therefore, it could have been hours since she had entered the city.
Clinging to her weak hope, she prowled the various gates opening into the Kingdom of Death, her eyes scanning the crowds like a hawk.
Occasionally, she would see a devout believer that she recognized from mass, their gaze devoid of emotion and their movements slow.
When she tried to speak, they would ignore her, vying instead for the central markets where most spirits began to call home.
There, they would find a job, earn money, and begin the cycle of capitalism once again, the wealthy ruling all and the poor begging for mercy.
Of course, the impoverished would face a far better fate than in life; the worst conditions they could face were a permanent job in the markets that they would do for the next hundred to one thousand years.
Is there truly nobody who can resist the memory erasure to any extent?
As her hope began to wane, she spotted a familiar face in the distance, one that she knew quite well as a priestess from Sea Fallen.
Archbishop Phelian?
He was bordering on 1.9 meters in height with piercing blue eyes and long black hair that rolled down his shoulders.
Unlike the other arrivals who wore their plain clothing, he wore opulent robes and colorful chains that made his elevated status apparent at first sight.
Eleanor had been personally appointed by him, making him a promising candidate for her attempt to communicate with the victims.
As an archbishop of the Church of Depths, he wielded considerable power akin to a Colonel of the Hunters' Guild.
Governing the entire city of Sea Fallen and reporting directly to the Saint of the South, he was truly a figure with resounding esteem within the Church, with even some knowledge exceeding that of Association officials.
Hurrying towards him before he could disappear into the crowd, she reached out her hand in a flash, grabbing his tailcoat.
"Hmm?"
The man turned his head in confusion, observing the small blonde-haired priestess who donned the same kind of attire as she wore when alive.
He furrowed his brow, contemplating something within his mind before shaking his head slowly, ceasing any movement he was making before to face her properly.
"Archbishop Phelian, do you remember me?"
She spoke with a tinge of hope, her hands interlocking nervously.
Phelian seemed to think for a moment before responding quietly, brushing his lower lip with one of his tan fingers.
"Are you one of the girls who were within my bedchambers last night?"
Eleanor froze for a moment before relaxing again, a sigh escaping her mouth.
"No, sir… I was the priestess from the southern region of Sea Fallen who asked to be promoted to a bishop position last winter."
The moving crowd around the two clergy members did not dawdle at all despite the two of them stopping in the middle, bumping into them with their shoulders and elbows until they finally moved aside.
As she awaited the man's answer, she found it increasingly difficult to maintain his attention, with his eyes flickering between her and the market in the distance.
"I-I…"
He babbled before coughing hard.
"I've never heard of such a place!"
Then, without another word, he spun around and moved like a marionette, not even glancing back for a second.
The girl stared silently as his form vanished within the mob, likely forever lost among the billions of deceased that called the vast city home.
With a heavy sigh escaping her lips, Eleanor began her journey back to the apartment she had been given, any hope she had of extracting even an ounce of information now gone.
He remembered being with women before his death, but soon after, he seemed to forget even the city completely… Perhaps the memory erasure isn't immediate, but rather occurs at a pace depending on their power?
Biting her lip softly, she took the last turn on her way to the apartment building, returning swiftly to her room and settling down at the desk.
With the book she had been carrying for hours finally lying flat on the table, she peeled off the paper wrapping, gently opening it up to the first page.
Reading quietly to herself, she spent hours deciphering the unfamiliar terms, analysing impossible-to-remember maps, and repeating the endlessly stretching names.
…
The next morning, Eleanor pondered the revelations that she had come to learn over a fresh cup of tea that Ariel had brought her.
As the Angel tended to another matter, it gave the blonde girl ample time to reminisce on the things she had learned from the guidebook.
In the Great Beyond, there were various places where the newcomers might end up after entering the gates, depending on the life they had lived.
The first of which, named Neutrality, was visualised in the maps as a large city with various streets that intersected one another and a big market in the center.
This was where a vast number of souls ended up—including herself, due to her short life, which prevented her from accomplishing any great sins or great deeds.
Souls left in Neutrality were expected to lose a majority of their memories, with only details about their own death and sense of self remaining, while anything else was taken away.
These individuals weren't expected to fade into nothingness—unlike those in another region of the Great Beyond—their lives were a perfect mix of sin and virtue, creating balance.
Buried deep beneath Neutrality, the second of three regions existed.
Hell, which was the only region the living were actually aware of before their passing, was similar to how many religions depicted it.
It was full of fire, lava, suffering, torture, and other unspeakable methods of inflicting punishment upon the truly vile.
The texts had mentioned prominent figures who reigned over the land as torturers and caretakers at the same time, whether it be the Devil of Wrath, who was a monster personified, or the former King of Curses, whose vast life of sexual abuse and murder had caught up with him in the afterlife.
Spirits in this realm commonly returned to their primal state, dying off completely and returning into the cycle of reincarnation, where they would face a new life filled with unspeakable horrors.
Most were reborn into the bodies of sea terrors, forced to live as beasts without emotions, existing in their rawest of forms.
The mere mention of such a place shook Eleanor to her core, as she realized that the ground beneath her feet was the only barrier between her and a fate worse than death.
On the opposite end of the spectrum was a place akin to Heaven—where the girl originally assumed the souls of the virtuous went after their deaths—yet, this third region was never mentioned by any records she had read in her original dimension.
Infinium, the realm of the good, existed attached to the central-most root of the World Tree, hidden behind the walls of Death's castle.
Unlike Hell and Neutrality, which each boasted populations into the hundreds of billions, Infinium housed less than ten thousand souls,
This was a place reserved only for the greatest of all—champions who excelled in various fields during their life, former Sea Kings who ruled their seas with benevolence, or even false Angels who had been slain upon reincarnation.
It was the land of joy and wealth, a place truly at the ascent of society where Eleanor wished she could enter.
Souls in Infinium did not fade under any circumstances. If they chose to be reborn, they would be gifted with natural blessings such as stronger bodies, an affinity to magic, or even a birth in a loftier dimension.
The writings described it as such a lavish place that even the child couldn't help but drool at the idea, considering a new goal for her life after returning to the Dimension of Waves.
Other than the three realms of the Great Beyond, much more information was also made clear to the girl through densely covered passages.
It contained everything from records of the dimension's history, such as the switch to Draughts or the standardization of the Nordic language, to rituals that could be performed to converse with the living as spirits.
What stood out to the girl the most was a page tucked into the very back of the book, one made of pure ivory with engraved golden script.
The path to becoming an Angel was one of easy entry but nearly impossible completion, with an entire system specially devised to choose only the most worthy.
First, only one Angel could be returned to the land of the living every quarter century, making their appearance an exceedingly rare and precious event for the living.
Furthermore, one needed to excel in the Holy Arts so they could defend themselves upon their return to the mortal plane.
If one were to die before the next envoy was sent, 25 years would have been wasted, and it would be likely for them to be stripped of their status within the Angelic Order.
Rigorous training regimens and schooling were required of the candidates, procedures that could easily last for centuries, something that, even if Eleanor wished to do, would be nearly impossible with her limited time.
Trying to recall any other relevant information that wasn't pointless gibberish used to lengthen the book unnecessarily, she sighed aloud.
Nearly 500 pages just for that…
Wasting an entire day of her time was truly not how she had planned to enjoy death, her exhaustion evident.
Leaning back far enough in her chair that her hair spilled over her face and she could hardly see anything, she heard a creaking noise come from the door's direction.
Catching a glimpse of the visitor, Eleanor instantly collected herself, preparing to kneel to the True Angel.
"There is no need for such formalities, sister. I am merely here to discuss your future that I have planned out with his guidance."
Hearing her refer to the god of these lands and a being of unimaginable power, the blonde-haired girl bowed her head.
"What is it that you have determined, Your Eminence…?"
She had quelled the shakiness in her voice compared to their previous conversations, her fear subsiding as the days went on—something that the blue-haired woman was happy enough with.
Slowly, the True Angel parted her lips, her raspberry colored eyes reflecting a joyous emotion.
"You have been granted an audience with His Majesty in one month. Until then, the Angelic Order has elected to take you in as an apprentice Angel, one who, upon return to the world of the living, could act as an intermediary between our latest emissary."
Processing the amazing opportunity she had been given, she half-gasped before holding her breath, her heartbeat racing as if her heart wanted to escape her chest.
However, one piece of what Ariel had said stuck out among the rest, a question coming from the girl's mouth.
"What do you mean by an intermediary…?"
Ariel's expression darkened as she turned her gaze away from the devout priestess, not wishing to share her emotions.
"During Abyssal Convergence this year, we were able to successfully send a new false Angel back into the Dimension of Waves."
She paused, feeling the child's confusion.
"However, immediately after her arrival, she vanished without a trace, all contact being cut and her last location being recorded within a seal that returned here in June."
There was a long silence as the gray-eyed girl contemplated the words of the divine being, unsure of what to make of them.
"There was no report of an Angel's descent within the Holy Capital, at least not one passed through the normal channels…"
Looking up at the blue-haired woman with concern, she watched as her eyes turned downcast.
"Of course, you wouldn't know. Unlike all other false Angels, she was reborn directly on an island within the Sea of Dreams."
Her statement deepened the fear that had begun to build in the young child's chest, the feeling slowly bubbling to the surface.
If an Angel had been born in Sea Fallen or Corvassa, it would've been reported in mere hours, and it wouldn't take much longer even if they were born on the Crescent Moon's End in the north.
That left few possibilities remaining among the larger islands, while the other few hundred smaller ones were still on the list.
However, the date of her disappearance stuck within the girl's head, her own voice repeating the same words over and over again.
A coincidence… It must be a coincidence…
Ariel stared upward towards the ceiling, speaking once more.
"It was determined that she had been reincarnated in a small fishing port that went by an unusual name."
She paused, the words flowing out of her mouth.
"Strava."