Heaven's Order

The Crystal Heart

The first thing you need to know about Heaven?

It breathes.

At the center of everything pulsed the Eternal Crystal Heart — a sphere of living light the size of a palace, beating like a giant, glowing lung.

Every thrum pushed mana through towers, rivers, even the tiniest blade of celestial grass.

At first, I thought it was just a pretty night-light for the gods.

Then one day I leaned too close over a balcony, and warmth crawled through my bones like sunlight under skin.

That was when I learned the truth:

The Heart wasn’t decoration.
It was creation itself.
It fed the realms.
It tethered gods to mortals.
It kept demons from knocking at the door.

My toddler brain summed it up neatly:

Big glowing gem = everything.
Big scary people = order.
Me = somehow stuck in the middle of it.

And everywhere I went, the Heart’s glow followed me — humming faintly, like it was keeping score.

I wasn’t supposed to care about politics at three.
But eavesdropping is free, and sarcasm is a coping mechanism, so… here’s what I pieced together:

2.High Deities → War, Time, Stars, Storms. The heavy hitters.

3.Lesser Deities → Rivers, winds, volcanoes, that one moody mountain nobody visits.

4.Demi-Gods → Half-and-halfs like me. Mix of mortal + divine. Potential wildcard tier.

5.Heaven Mortals → Rewarded souls plucked from Earth. Stronger than they were alive, but still… mortal.

Reminder: Spiritual rank ≠ job title.

A Demi-God soldier can command a High Deity if the chain of command says so.
Chaos? Absolutely.

2. Social Ladder (What You Do)

1.Royal House → God King’s family. Aka me. Yay, royalty. 

2.High Deity Council → The “wise” ones who argue in golden halls.

3.Nobles of the Mortal Veil → Fancy aristocrats ruling over Heaven Mortals in their little pocket cities. Basically Soul Society lords with shinier robes.

4.Celestial Legions → The actual backbone. Captains, Lieutenants, Officers, soldiers. Gods, demi-gods, nobles, mortals — doesn’t matter, if you serve, you serve.

5.Acolytes & Artisans → Healers, scribes, artificers, quartermasters. The ones who make sure the soldiers don’t starve.

6.Common Heaven Mortals → Builders, farmers, cleaners, caretakers. The real MVPs who keep Heaven running when the gods are busy being dramatic.

Everywhere I went, soldiers and priests talked about power like it was their religion.
(To be fair, it basically is.)

Mana
Everyone has it. Think of it as your life bar.

Run out → collapse. Push too far → bleeding nose, soul screaming. Abuse it → death.

Unless, of course, you’re a High Deity who bends rules like spoiled nobles.

Stages of Power

The Trial of Awakening (Age 15)
Everyone enters the Crystal Forest.
Illusions rip you apart, then stitch you back together.

Guaranteed: Stage 1.
Extra: Anything higher is a miracle, lottery, or trauma-induced nightmare.

Incantations
Magic runs on words.
Whisper Ignite with intent → fire listens.
Whisper it weakly → you get smoke in your face.

Martial Training (Because Not Everything Explodes on Command)

Heaven isn’t just fireballs and divine sparks.
Half the people who survive the Trial realize fast:

If you can’t swing a blade, chant faster, or dodge an arrow, you’re dead.

Weapons & Forms: swords, spears, bows, glaives. Each Legion has its style.

Unarmed Arts: bone-shattering strikes, grappling, pressure-point techniques.

Battle Drills: endless sparring under officers who yell louder than thunder.

Integration: best fighters lace mana into motion — fire-forged sword arcs, lightning kicks, wind-dodges.

For some, martial training = survival.

For others, it’s the difference between being a soldier… and being a legend.

Every Legion is bound to a Crown Oath Relic — a shard of the First God King’s crown.

Each Captain (Crownkeeper) wears the Sigil, making them the living embodiment of their Legion’s law.

Succession isn’t about blood. You pass the Trials, or the relic itself chooses you in what priests call Spontaneous Coronation.

The first time I saw them march, I nearly fell over.

Golden armor. Banners blazing. Songs that rattled bone.

To my three-year-old brain, they looked like an army of suns.

I memorized their names like a twisted nursery rhyme:

3..Crimson Vow — Ruthless judgment. 

4.Sentinels of Flame — Forge soldiers in fire.

5.Lifesong — Restore what is broken.

6.Spirit Wardens — Protect the Cycle of Souls. 

7.Starforge — Build the impossible.

8.Chronoguard — Keep history intact.

9.Oblivion Watch — Guard the edge of nothing. 

10.Skyhammer — Construct citadels and weapons. 

12.Acolytes of Dawn — Spark of Heaven’s future. 

12.Equinox Guard — Prevent Heaven from devouring itself. 

My Thought as a Boy

To adults? The Legions meant politics and duty.
To me? They were bedtime stories with teeth.

A dragon’s roar. A warden’s chant. Shields clashing like thunder.

Heaven wasn’t safe because it was perfect.
It was safe because these lunatics refused to let it fall.

So, naturally, I tugged my mother’s robe, eyes wide:
“Do I get to join one?”

She smiled softly.
“One day, Haise. But first… your trial.”

Of course. Always the trial.

Minister Arval (at age 4)

When I was Four, I met him.

Arval Nyx.

If Father was a mountain, Arval was a knife. Narrow eyes. Sharp jaw. A smile that could gut a man.

Minister Arval Nyx wasn’t a god. Not a High Deity, not even a Lesser one.

He was born a Heaven Mortal — a soul plucked from Earth, raised in the Mortal Veil’s aristocracy, and sharpened by politics until he carved himself a throne among ministers.

Yet he stood higher than most gods in influence. Why?

Because my father, the God King, had chosen him as his right hand in politics.

Where soldiers swung blades, Arval dealt in whispers.
Where Legions clashed, Arval moved pieces on a board nobody else could see.

And the worst part?
He looked at me not as a boy… but as a blade waiting to be sharpened.

Behind him stood his children:

Kael Arval → my age, already glaring like it was his job. 

Lyra Arval → younger, green hair glowing like spring. She slipped her hand into mine and whispered: “Hi, Haise.”

Naturally, my heart did something stupid. Love at first sight.

Kael shoved a wooden sword at me.
“Let’s see what the King’s son can do.”

I nearly dropped it. Lyra giggled. Kael smirked.
Humiliation: unlocked.

I clenched my jaw, thinking one thing:
Fine. I’ll surpass you. And I’ll make it look easy.

Closing — Sparks of Rivalry

Days blurred into weeks.
Wooden swords. Scraped knees. Lyra’s quiet smiles. Kael’s endless glare daring me to rise.

And always, above us, the Crystal Heart pulsed — humming, waiting.

One night I gripped my little practice sword so tight it hurt and whispered into the dark:

“I’ll surpass him. I’ll surpass them all.”

The Heart flickered, like it heard me.
And in the silence, I swear it whispered back:

We shall see.