CHAPTER 104: AUREALIS, CAPITAL OF THE UPPER REALM [PART 1]

Chapter 104 – Aurealis, Capital of the Upper Realm [Part 1]

The doors of the therapy sanctum hissed open with a soft chime and a brief flash of gold.

Lux stepped out first, robe fluttering behind him with far more grace than he was emotionally prepared for.

Selena followed, steps light, hands tucked neatly in front of her like a polite celestial guide escorting a dangerous cosmic anomaly.

Funny thing.

The moment they passed through the main gate and stepped beyond the sanctum’s white-marble perimeter, it didn’t feel like they entered a city.

Not in the way Lux had known cities. Not like the roaring chaos of the underworld capitals, or the noisy, ad-splattered skylines of the mortal realm.

This... was something else.

The air was so clean it almost startled him. No smog. No chemical sting. Just crisp, barely scented wind carrying notes of floral gardens, maybe something sweet and citrus tucked in the breeze. Even the sun felt filtered—soft, not blinding. Like the light here had been pre-approved by a divine committee before hitting your skin.

The street stretched ahead in wide, open elegance. Sidewalks were made of pale stone that somehow never stained, never cracked. A few low gliding cars passed by—quiet, all white, minimalist in design, no brand logos, no tinted windows, not even a grill. They all looked the same, just smooth pods on wheels, identical aside from one small display near the rear that showed a simple number.

"The seats," Selena explained when she noticed him staring. "The only difference between them is capacity."

"No spoilers? No engine roars?" Lux muttered, eyebrow twitching. "Not even vanity license plates like ’4NG3LBOY’?"

"No envy here," she said with a small smile. "Transportation is functional. Purposeful."

He snorted. "What are you gonna tell me next? No one revs their ride to impress someone with wings?"

She just kept walking.

There were people, sure—celestials, glowing beings in white robes, soft armor, or pastel business-casual with divine flair. Some with wings. Some with halo traces. A few others clearly non-winged entities, walking or gliding just above the ground. But none of them looked in a rush. No one barked into phones. No one ran for anything. They moved with the ease of people who’d collectively decided that anxiety was a mortal disease.

Buildings lined the horizon—tall, clean, modern structures made of glass and white-stone hybrids. Cafes. Temples. Halls of Record. Community Rest Spaces. Even a Justice Lounge that apparently served glowing lemonade and therapy snacks.

And above it all?

Music.

Not blaring through speakers. Not artificial background hum. It was subtle, ambient—woven into the very fabric of the city. A calm, melodic harmony that played like a thousand gentle strings being plucked by a god who liked jazz but feared dissonance.

It didn’t hum like cities usually did.

It breathed.

"Welcome to Aurealis," Selena said softly beside him. "Capital of the Upper Realm. The Crown District."

He stood there for a moment, eyes drifting to a group of serene looking celestials sipping tea near a hovering garden fountain. A child nearby was floating a puzzle piece through the air with telekinetic precision while his mother read from a book labeled "Peace and Me."

And Lux whispered, "Holy. Hell."

Selena glanced at him, amused. "Something wrong?"

"That’s why you guys always look like you’ve got no jobs," he muttered. "You live in a spa menu. This place doesn’t even have stress. No wonder you don’t drink coffee."

"We don’t have coffee shops," she admitted, "but we have plenty of tea parlors."

"Tea," Lux said flatly, like the word personally offended his soul.

"Yes."

"No espresso?"

"No."

"No dark roast from the volcanic slopes of the Netherforge?"

"No caffeine," she said with a polite smile. "Too stimulating."

He pressed his fingers against his forehead like she’d just said they drink sadness.

"Not having coffee shops should be illegal."

"We manage," she said, already walking again. "Come on. I’ll take you to my favorite lunch place."

"Will it involve tofu clouds and distilled virtue?"

"No. We have actual food. But the presentation is calm. No spicy food. No unhealthy food."

Lux followed, despite everything in him still adjusting to how calm this place was.

He walked past a street crossing—there were no signals, just gentle glowing lines that shifted to indicate crossing flow. The pedestrians didn’t rush. Cars stopped automatically. There were no horns. No screeches. Just... trust.

The architecture changed subtly the deeper they went into the city. Some structures became more rounded, others arched upward like cathedral spires, but everything remained harmonious. Nothing stood out too aggressively. No neon. No high-rises screaming ’wealth’ or ’status.’ Even the houses, the homes carved into floating platforms above sanctified gardens, felt almost... democratic.

It was weird.

The place was advanced. It was modern. But not like the underworld. Not like the mortal realm.

The underworld’s version of "modern" was violent and extra. Everything chrome. Everything cursed. Floating malls that screamed. Nightclubs with soul tax. Aesthetic choices that doubled as weapons.

The mortal realm? It was messy modern. Half peace, half chaos. Skyscrapers beside slums. Silicon dreams next to poverty. Some cities were relaxing. Others looked like they were built during a panic attack and never got fixed.

But here?

This place was Zen Modern.

Purpose-built. Meditative. Efficient. Gentle.

Like the entire city was built by a civilization that didn’t believe in flexing—but flexed anyway just by existing like this.

Even Lux, for all his usual calm composure, found himself glancing around like a tourist. He tried not to gape, but the occasional celestial nodded politely at him. No one stared. No one sneered. But he felt it.

He looked like he belonged.

That robe—damn thing—it worked.

He caught a faint glimpse of himself in a mirrored surface of a temple wall. White suit, faint glow. Hair perfectly tousled by the divine breeze. Radiance stats still ticking.

He looked like an angel.

No.

He looked like a legend.

And he hated how much he liked it.

He kept glancing at the people around them. The shops. The gardens. The little details. The peace.

And maybe... yeah. Maybe he was a little quiet.

Not because he was plotting.

Not because he was scheming.

But because something inside him was slowly admitting that maybe... just maybe...

He didn’t know everything about this realm.

And that meant he had more to learn.

Which was good.

Because knowledge?

Was always power.