Chapter 28: The Keys?
Silver City, third layer.
The keys. Everyone in the higher offices kept repeating the word like it was the only thing left that mattered. What did the keys unlock? That was the question no one could answer cleanly.
Silver City had locked itself into endless meetings and data searches, trying to understand what Amon was planning and why those keys were so important to him.
But whenever one got close to an answer—
[Classified information] — this one system kept blocking every attempt.
"We still can’t access it, Your Holiness," a lower angel said, eyes fixed on the floor. The principality behind him bit her nails hard enough to draw golden blood from the cuticle.
"How?... And why?" Principality Uranus muttered. "We have clearance for every record in the heavens."
"I... I don’t know. We tried every route. Nothing on the keys appears."
A chime cut through the white office.
"Announcement. Principality Uranus, proceed to Archangel Remel’s office."
Uranus swallowed hard. That was the worst possible summons. She put a hand on the lower angel’s shoulder. "...I’m going."
"Wait. We still have time—"
"If I’m demoted again, we can search together from lower ranks... so don’t worry too much about it..." She walked out.
Most of the angels in the room carried the same fear. The angels who were once Powers, Virtues, even a few Dominions, sat with blank faces.
Absolute authority meant little after the Golden Immortal’s betrayal. Silver City itself had changed beyond that — all because of his obsession.
She stopped at the office door, opened it carefully, not having the nerve to say a word.
"Come in," Remel said. His voice was flat and cold.
"I’m sorr—"
"Do you know," Remel cut her off, "that Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, even Uriel once stood at the same rank as me?" He gestured toward the window. Outside, Silver City stretched across the clouds, every building shining silver under constant light.
"Y... yes," Uranus answered.
"I used to think they were special. The Creator moved them to the first sphere because of it... but Michael — looking at him now, he failed as a seraphim. It was only timing and luck. During the last war between heaven and hell, he used up all his charm and pushed himself up,
using the chaos as a ladder.
Now we have this moment once more. The Golden Immortal betrayed us. Michael is offering rank and power to anyone who helps him finish whatever obsession drives him. And you..." He pointed at her.
"Are failing me. Tell me why I should not demote you straight into hell!"
Silence filled the room as Uranus’s mouth opened. Her eyes went wide, the word hell echoing in her ears.
"There... has to be another way."
"There isn’t." Remel held up the demotion papers, and her feet shifted as she stepped back.
"Leave."
"Wait. Wait, Your Holiness... I... I have a theory."
"I don’t want more noise. Now leave." His wings flared and shoved her toward the door.
"The Golden Immortal deleted everything about the keys from the Heavenly Accord!" she said quickly.
Remel stopped. "He has no authority over the Accord. That belongs to Metatron alone. Not even Michael can touch it."
"He also had no right to send Raphael to hell. A seraphim of that rank, but... but he did it anyway."
Remel pulled his wings in, slowly. The thought sat heavy. "Hmmm... your demotion is halted. Connect me to the First Circle officials. Now."
"Yes, Your Holiness." Relief hit her hard as she left the office at once.
And just like that, word moved fast. Within hours, the First Circle confirmed the same blank spaces in the records.
The keys had been scrubbed.
Heaven finally understood the scale. Amon was not collecting random relics. He was assembling something that could rewrite the balance between realms.
Orders went out. Forces prepared to move. Angels of every rank received deployment lists. The search for Amon and his disciples became the only priority.
Hell reacted just as fast.
Lucifer sat on the black throne in the lowest circle and listened to the reports. His minions had caught fragments of the same information through their own channels — the keys, and the possibility of Amon’s plan.
The fact that heaven was mobilizing — Lucifer did not care about heaven’s panic. He cared that a mortal-turned-immortal was collecting tools that could threaten the contracts holding the underworld together.
"Send them," Lucifer said. "Every legion that can still walk. Find Amon. Stop him before he uses whatever those keys open. If the disciples know the locations, take them alive if possible. Dead if necessary."
The order spread. Demons left the pits in waves. Some headed for the mortal world. Others searched the borders between realms. No one knew where the real keys were. Only Amon and the people closest to him held that information, so heaven and hell both hunted blind.
Meanwhile, far below, in the jungles of Venezuela, Cheering stared at his status screen for the twentieth time that morning.
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STATUS
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Name: Cheering
Title(s):
• Village Loudmouth
• Amon’s Favorite Drinking Buddy
• Official Yeti-Scare Lookout
• Keeper of the Sacred Chang (Local Brew)
Race: Human (Sherpa) / Eden’s Child
Bloodline: Human bloodline > Golden bloodline
Rank: Mortal Rank I
Level: 4
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ATTRIBUTES
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Strength: 18 > 69
Agility: 22 > 30
Vitality: 25 > 100
Endurance: 27 > 88
Intelligence: 14
Wisdom: 16
Perception: 19 > 40
Willpower: 21
Free Stat Points: 0
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RESOURCES
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Health (HP): 85/85
Stamina: 95/95
Divine Energy: 0/0 (None – thankfully)
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BLOODLINE
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[Mountain Blood of the Himalayas – Rank F]
Effects:
• +30% Cold Resistance
• +15% Climbing & High-Altitude Adaptation
• Slightly improved alcohol tolerance (still loses to Amon)
• Village Aura (Passive): Makes people smile when he starts yelling
Next Evolution:
[None available – pure mortal bloodline]
Requirement: Live a long, loud, happy life.
Evolved heart and lungs: can breathe in places with less oxygen.
[Immortal’s Disciple – Rank SSS]
Effects:
• +200% Physical Growth Rate (under Amon’s guidance)
• Minor Golden Aura (Passive): Skin faintly glows when excited; scares lesser monsters
• Fragment of Immortality: Regenerates minor wounds 5× faster; aging slowed by 40% (for now)
• System Resonance: Can faintly sense Amon’s System notifications and mission urgency
• Fear Resistance (Major): Immune to ordinary intimidation; only true divinities can shake you
• Disciple’s Inheritance (Locked): Access to diluted versions of Amon’s sealed techniques
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SKILLS
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[Sherpa Pathfinding] Lv.3
[Loud Encouragement] Lv.5
[Chang Brewing] Lv.4
[Yeti Spotting] Lv.2
[Teasing Immortals] Lv.6 ← (Maxed for a mortal)
Locked Skills:
[None – and he prefers it that way]
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He still could not get used to how detailed it was. The numbers kept climbing. Part of him wanted a drink. That felt like Amon’s influence more than his own.
The children who called themselves demigods could not see the screen. Neither could the traffickers. Only the old woman in the group kept staring at him, and he was certain she was not looking at any status window.
That alone confirmed it. The system belonged to him alone.
No wonder he spent so much time staring at empty air.
They rode a small boat down a muddy river. The jungle pressed close on both sides. Monkeys screamed somewhere in the canopy while insects hummed.
One of the traffickers pointed ahead.
"We are here."
Cheering nodded. Behind him, the demigod children watched in silence as the boat bumped against the bank. Under normal conditions there would have been arguments about payment or routes.
Today everyone stayed quiet. Cheering could not tell if that was because of him or because the group had simply run out of energy.
What waited on the bank ended the quiet, though.
Blood.
Bodies of the local contacts lay half-eaten across the mud. Some were missing limbs. Others had been torn open.
Tracks of large claws marked the ground. The beasts that normally stayed deeper in the forest had woken up, it seemed.
Monsters appeared more often now. Cheering and the people following him had survived this far only because the demigods could fight and because his own body kept recovering faster than it should.
They were already behind schedule, so he was worried, as the traffickers who were supposed to meet them here were dead.
The ones still with Cheering only knew the route up to this point. Beyond the Venezuelan forest, the map ended.
I’m fucked then, Cheering thought, turning to the ones who could, in some way, help him.
The arrogant cunts. The demigod children had been bargaining with him for days, saying they wanted the key. They called it the key to salvation. They claimed their bloodlines would awaken fully once they held it.
And for that very reason, they had followed him through jungles and rivers because they believed he carried either the real key or the fake one Amon had left behind. Cheering never confirmed which.
He stepped off the boat and checked the bodies. Nothing useful remained. Weapons were broken. Food was gone. The trail markers the local guides used had been destroyed.
One of the older demigod boys, a tall kid with golden eyes, walked up. "We can still move. North. Toward the border. Mexico is not far if we push."
Cheering looked at him. "You said the same thing three days ago. We are still in this forest, kiddo."
"Because the beasts keep coming. But you are stronger than before. You are actually growing stronger, for some reason. We all saw it. Lead us and we will clear the path."
Another demigod, a girl with short white hair, added, "We will serve you if you take us to the key. All of us. Our power under your command. Just get us there."
Cheering scratched the back of his neck. The golden aura under his skin flickered once.
"I only need one thing," he said. "Safe passage into America. After that, you can have whatever key you think I have. Real or fake. I don’t care."
The demigods exchanged looks. The old woman behind them nodded once, as if she had expected the answer.
"Done," the golden-eyed boy said. "We protect you until the border. You hand over the key when we cross. No more delays."
Cheering shrugged. "Then we move. But... no more talking about salvation until the road is clear."