The stark, bureaucratic light of the Soul Administration Department faded behind them, replaced by a soft, pearlescent glow that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Angat blinked, his mind still reeling from the encounter with Yamraj. The weight of his erased existence felt a little lighter with the soul pass glowing faintly in his pocket, but the void where his memories should be was a constant, aching hum.
"Mr. Narad," he began, his voice tentative in the vast, quiet space. "Now where to?"
Narad Muni, who had been humming a cheerful, complicated tune, tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Up. Always up when you're seeking answers. We shall go to the highest realm above all Lokas."
"Brahmalok?" Angat's eyes widened. "The divine residence of Lord Brahma and Devi Saraswati?"
Narad stopped and looked at him, a flicker of genuine surprise on his face. "Oh! You know of the Lord Father's residence? I'm impressed, Vatsa. At least you are somewhat knowledgeable about our pantheon. Most souls these days only remember the gods that they ask for favors."
Angat felt a faint warmth in his cheeks. "Ah, well... I told you how my mother used to read to me. The Vedas, the Puranas... it was her favorite thing."
"I see," Narad said, his tone softening into genuine respect. "Your mother must be a daughter of Devi Saraswati herself, to be so literate and so dedicated to your teaching. It seems you did not fail her, at least in this."
"Hey," Angat said, the embarrassment deepening. "Don't bring my mother into it."
Narad chuckled. "I am praising the Devi that is your mother for her wisdom! Just as Maa Saraswati illuminates the path of knowledge, so did she. Now, to your question. How do we get to Brahmalok?"
He gestured forward, and as he did, the nebulous glow around them began to solidify into a path, a shimmering ribbon of light stretching into an impossible distance. "Our journey is a climb, Vatsa. A climb through the layers of existence. First, we are here, in Yamalok, the seat of justice and karma. Next, we must pass the River Vaitarani."
As he spoke, the environment shifted. The air grew cool and damp, and the faint sound of lapping water reached Angat's ears. In the distance, he could make out the banks of a wide, dark river, its obsidian surface reflecting countless floating lotus lights that bobbed like lonely, remembering stars.
"Wait," Angat said, a shiver running down his spine. "Is that... is that like the Wangchuan River? Where Ms.Meng Po, the Lady of Forgetfulness, gives souls her soup to drink before they are reincarnated?"
Narad's smile was enigmatic. "Well, you see, it's same-same but different. The Greeks called it the Lethe - the river of oblivion. Its waters washed away all memory of a past life, allowing a soul to be reborn clean, without the baggage of its former self." He saw the dawning comprehension on Angat's face. "Yes, Vatsa. The pattern repeats because the function is universal. Order from chaos, memory from oblivion. These are the pillars of creation, and every culture, in every universe, stumbles upon these truths in their own way."
He patted Angat's shoulder. "You will understand it in due time. For now, just follow, and observe."
They moved on, and the river faded, replaced by a desolate, grey expanse. The Ash Plains of Pretlok stretched before them, a silent, wind-scoured wasteland. It didn't look like a place of punishment, but one of profound sadness.
Fragments of light holographic echoes of laughter, unfinished sentences, unfulfilled promises...drifted through the dust like ghosts. Angat felt a pang of sympathy, a hollow echo of his own lost life.
"Don't linger," Narad advised softly. "These are the souls of those who left with desires too strong to release. A heavy thing."
The grey plains soon gave way to a breathtaking sight: The Pillars of Tapolok, golden spires that pierced the clouds. Here, the air thrummed with a silent, powerful concentration. Beings of pure light, monks who had meditated for millennia, floated in serene suspension. A stairway of shimmering energy materialized before them, its steps shifting and rearranging with every thought that crossed Angat's mind.
" Is this safe ??" he wondered, and instantly, three new steps materialized, making the climb longer.
"Doubt adds more steps, Vatsa," Narad said, effortlessly gliding upwards. "Faith smooths the path."
Focusing his mind, Angat followed, and the staircase stabilized. At the summit stretched The Bridge of Aether, a transparent causeway arcing through a sea of stars. With each step, the bridge hummed, a chord of pure energy vibrating through his very soul. As they walked, breathtaking vistas flashed beside them: the glittering, golden spires of Indralok; the blazing, majestic chariot of Suryalok; the deep, mysterious oceans of Varunalok.
"Mr. Narad," Angat asked, finally giving voice to a confusion that had been growing. "Why am I experiencing all of this? I thought my karma was erased. Shouldn't I just... teleport to where we need to go?"
"Ah, Vatsa!" Narad sighed with theatrical exasperation. "You see, you don't have to experience the full effects. We are on the celestial expressway! This is the scenic route, with all the tolls paid. Think of it like a divine bureaucracy. We must register our route, check in at each nodal point. We can't have the Divine Patrol catching us for illegal trespass, can we?"
"Seriously? There's police here? I thought you were Narad Muni! You're supposed to wander through the realms as you please!"
"Ah, you hit a sore spot, Vatsa," Narad lamented, shaking his head. "It was all fine and good until Lord Father Brahma decided to 'upgrade' the cosmic system. He said we needed to 'keep up with the times.'
Now, it's all forms in triplicate and dimensional permits. The bureaucracy got a huge boost, but it limited our free use of powers! A trade-off, you see." He brightened considerably. "Though, I still have some privileges as the divine messenger. I can get an appointment with anyone on short notice. Except for my Narayana, of course. He's in a deep cosmic sleep, you know. He'll wake up when it's time for the Kali Avatar."
As they walked the humming bridge, the spectacle of the multiverse unfolding around them, Angat's mind buzzed with a new, overwhelming question. "Narad-ji... this bureaucracy, these different Lokas... is this all just in our universe? Or is it... bigger?"
Narad laughed, a sound like cheerful bells. "Vatsa, the multiverse is not a concept you can understand just by listening. You have to experience it to understand it. But I will tell you this: there are universes dominated by a single, rigid divine system. Others have cross-pantheon departments, like a celestial United Nations. And yes, there are... foreign gods. Some are innate beings, born with the creation of their world. Others ... were once mortal beings who gained immense power, much like the heroes in those novels you've likely read."
A specific, earthly curiosity nagged at Angat. "But what about our universe? Why can't we find any signs of life other than on Earth? Our technology is so advanced we can capture data from light-years away, and yet... nothing ."
Narad stopped and looked at him, his expression turning uncharacteristically serious. "That, Vatsa, is a higher-level question than you are currently authorized for."
He then winked, the gravity vanishing. "But I can explain it in simple terms. Think of the multiverse not as separate bubbles, but as one massive, sprawling corporate group."
He gestured around them, at the glittering realms. "The pantheons you know? They are the parent companies, the major shareholders of existence. They don't just rule; they manage."
"Okay," Angat said, his mind struggling to fit the gods of his childhood stories into a boardroom. "So our Hindu Pantheon... what, we're the head office?"
"In a manner of speaking! We are one of the oldest and most complex corporate structures. The Trimurti. - Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva ..
they're the CEO, the COO, and the Head of Strategic Disruption & Renewal, all in one. A very efficient, if sometimes dramatic, leadership team. Our portfolio is vast, specializing in cyclical universes, complex karma-reincarnation systems, and profound metaphysical R&D."
"That... strangely makes sense," Angat admitted.
"Of course it does! Now, let's talk about the competition ...I mean, our esteemed colleagues." Narad's eyes twinkled. "Take the Greek Pantheon, for instance. Zeus & Co. They run a very different kind of operation. Less corporate hierarchy, more... volatile family-run conglomerate. They specialize in high-drama universes, ones that are filled with heroic epics, tragic flaws, and very public mergers and acquisitions....often involving swans and golden showers. Excellent for producing compelling content, but their employee turnover rate is astronomical."
Angat couldn't help but laugh. "And the Norse? Odin, Thor and Loki ?"
"Ah, the Norse Divinity Group!" Narad said, nodding appreciatively. "A rugged, no-nonsense outfit. They focus on tough, resilient universes with a strong 'prepare for the end-times' brand identity. Their flagship project, Ragnarok, is a brilliantly managed, scheduled apocalypse that allows for a total corporate reboot. Very popular in sectors that appreciate stoicism and a good, clean end."
As they walked, the starscape beside them shimmered, and for a moment, Angat saw the silhouette of a great, twisted tree, its branches reaching into countless glowing realms. The Yggdrasil.
"But it's not all about flashy gods and epic battles," Narad continued, lowering his voice. "You have the Shinto Spiritual Subsidiary from Japan. They are the masters of micro-management. Their universes are infused with kami...(God in Japanese)
spirits in every rock, stream, and ancient tree. It's a deeply localized, bespoke service model. They don't dominate a universe; they curate it. A very elegant, if resource-intensive, approach."
"And the Chinese Pantheon? The Jade Emperor?"
"The Celestial Bureaucracy of the Jade Emperor is, frankly, the corporation we most respect and are most baffled by," Narad confessed with a hint of professional envy. "They perfected divine bureaucracy millennia before we even considered it. Their universes run on impeccable paperwork, strict hierarchical protocols, and merit-based promotions to divinity. If you want a universe that runs on time, with minimal theological errors, you subcontract it to them. We've been trying to acquire their HR software for eons."
The sheer scale of it was overwhelming. "So... where does that leave the others? The Egyptians? The Mesopotamians?"
"Older ventures," Narad explained, his tone turning slightly somber, like a historian discussing former industry giants. "The Egyptian Divine Corporation was a pioneer in afterlife services and divine branding... animal heads were a bold choice. They've since been largely absorbed into larger conglomerates, though their IP is still widely licensed. The Mesopotamian Pantheon ...Anu, Enlil, and the rest ....they were the original start-up, the innovators who proved the concept of organized divinity. We owe them a great debt, though their original corporate structure is now defunct."
He leaned in closer. "And then there are the new players. The upstarts. There are universes where mortals become the gods through sheer will or technological singularity. They're the disruptive tech startups of the cosmos, challenging our established models. It keeps everyone on their toes!"
He placed a hand on Angat's shoulder, his point made. "So, to answer your question: your Earth, in your specific universe, was a designated project under the Hindu Pantheon's 'Isolated Inter Spiritual Development' division. Finding other life especially from a rival pantheon's project...would have been a breach of corporate policy. It would have skewed the data though sometimes agents from different pathneons are witnessed on earth like dragons and giants ."
The pieces finally clicked. The myths weren't just stories; they were corporate legends, mission statements, and brand identities for the architects of reality itself.
Before Angat could form another question, the Bridge of Aether ended. They stood before gates of pure, swirling light, from which emanated a profound, creative silence, punctuated by the faint, harmonious strum of a veena.
"We have arrived, Vatsa," Narad said, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper. "Brahmalok. Head Office. Now, remember your manners."
As the gates began to part, Angat felt the last of his earthly confusion melt away, replaced by the awe of a junior intern stepping into the global headquarters for the very first time.