Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1046: Invading Heaven

Heaven was considered the oldest realm in all of creation.

There was not a single force in the universe that had not heard of it. Across countless worlds, its name carried weight—sometimes reverence, sometimes fear, but always respect. Heaven’s influence spread far beyond its own borders, reaching into distant planes through faith, conquest, and divine authority. Yet what truly commanded awe was not its reach, but its power.

The amount of strength concentrated within Heaven was simply staggering. Some of its inhabitants were so immensely powerful that they could force even supreme worlds to their knees. Entire civilizations had risen and fallen at their whim. Compared to such might, most realms were nothing more than fragile sparks, easily snuffed out.

Unlike Hell or the Abyss—realms layered endlessly upon one another like a descending spiral—Heaven took the form of a single, colossal road. It stretched endlessly, like an infinite golden path forged from light and law, divided into countless ascending levels. Each level was purer than the last, closer to perfection, closer to divinity.

And that was only the beginning.

The natives of Heaven were Angels, beings born with innate talent and an amazing life span. Among them, the rulers were divided into two great classes.

The first were the Gods.

These were Angels who had managed to break through the boundaries of the Legendary Realm and ascend into Godhood. In terms of raw power, they stood close to Lords, yet their greatest advantage lay in longevity. Gods did not wither as entities made of flesh and blood did. Time bent around them, allowing their Divine Kingdoms to endure for eons.

Unlike in other realms, Heaven’s laws allowed Divine Kingdoms to remain fully manifested within the physical plane instead of existing as detached dimensions or orbiting sanctums in the void. These kingdoms became bastions of power—headquarters for mighty families, factions, and armies of elite warriors who served their patron Gods.

The second and highest rulers were far more terrifying.

The Archangels.

They were not merely stronger Angels. They were something else entirely.

Archangels were born directly from the essence and life force of Heaven itself. They were laws made flesh—manifestations of divine principles given form and will. This was why they were so overwhelmingly powerful, and why each carried unique Gifts that allowed them to perform acts both wondrous and horrifying.

Reality itself bent around them.

As with any civilization, Heaven had a hierarchy. The Archangels resided in the deepest and most sacred levels of the realm, where the laws and energy were so pure that they could literally transform a pig into a Legendary Monster. Every breath taken in those sanctified depths carried power.

Naturally, the first level of Heaven was where the weakest resided.

"Weak" in Heaven, however, meant something very different.

Even Angels at the very beginning of the path were wealthy by mortal standards, their bodies brimming with divine energy, their bloodlines exalted. Arrogance was common, almost expected. After all, they were Angels—bearers of the strongest lineage in the universe. To them, all other races were inferior by default.

Golden streets stretched endlessly across the first level, reflecting light so brilliant it hurt mortal eyes. Towers of alabaster and crystal rose like monuments to eternal glory.

One Angel walked calmly along those streets, his wings folded neatly behind his back. As he passed through the plazas, his gaze drifted toward the Pearly Gates—the only entrance to Heaven.

Though he lived in the lowest level of the realm, a smug smile curved his lips. The Pearly Gates were a sight few realms could boast. Massive beyond comprehension, forged of divine alloys and ancient law, they had stood unbroken for countless eras. Every Angel in Heaven took pride in them.

They were eternal.

Or so everyone believed until today.

"BOOOOOOOOOOM!"

A thunderous explosion echoed from the other side of the gates.

The sound was so violent that the Angel froze mid-step. The ground trembled beneath his feet, and the Pearly Gates shuddered visibly, their surface rippling.

Silence followed.

Then chaos.

Angels all around turned in disbelief, staring at the gates as if their eyes were betraying them. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"BOOOOOOOOOOM!"

Another explosion struck, even more powerful than the first. The gates shook violently, cracks forming, divine runes flaring as they struggled to contain the impact.

"This... this can’t be real," someone whispered.

The Pearly Gates were not merely strong. They were enchanted with supreme defensive laws, capable of nullifying all power not originating from an Archangel.

And yet—

Cracks continue to expand.

Thin at first. Then growing so large that bursts of lightning and fire spread through them.

The Angels’ minds reeled. No one could comprehend what they were seeing.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

The third explosion arrived not as a sound, but as annihilation.

Lightning and fire burst through the fractures, flooding Heaven’s first level with overwhelming force. The Pearly Gates shattered violently, exploding outward in a storm of divine debris. Massive fragments—each the size of mountains—rained down from the sky.

Screams erupted everywhere.

Cities were crushed instantly, reduced to ruins as the colossal pieces slammed into the ground. Thousands of Angels died in the blink of an eye, their bodies obliterated before they could even react.

The scene was one of absolute horror.

Heaven was the invader. Heaven was the conqueror. Heaven was never meant to be invaded.

And yet reality cared nothing for belief.

As Angels scrambled in panic, trying desperately to identify the perpetrator, the sky above them began to glow.

Golden.

Brilliant.

Deadly.

The next second, countless god-weapons descended from the heavens.

Blades, spears, halberds, axes—each radiating divine destruction.

"AHHHH—!"

"My arm!"

"RUN!"

Screams of terror echoed endlessly as the god-weapons began their massacre. They moved with horrifying precision, weaving through the air as if guided by an unseen intelligence. When they struck, they did not simply kill.

They erased.

Angels were cleaved apart mid-flight, impaled through the chest, or blasted into the ground by overwhelming force. Even those who survived the initial strikes were left maimed—limbs torn away, bodies shattered—bleeding out in moments.

The rain of god-weapons advanced relentlessly, pushing deeper into Heaven’s first level. Blood stained the golden streets. Wings littered the ground.

Less than a minute had passed since the Pearly Gates were destroyed.

More than a hundred thousand Angels lay dead.

And it was only the beginning.

Normal Angels were utterly helpless against such power. Their spells shattered on contact. Their formations collapsed instantly. Desperation spread like wildfire.

Then the god-weapons drew closer to the Divine Kingdoms of the first level.

Horror finally overtook the Gods themselves.

Their faces went pale as they watched entire cities vanish under the barrage. Though mighty by most standards, the truth was brutal: they stood at the very bottom of the Lord Tier.

They could not fight this.

Escape was not an option either.

A Divine Kingdom was more than territory—it was the core of a God’s existence. Its destruction meant annihilation.

There was a God by the name of Jeremia.

His Divine Kingdom stood closest to the shattered remains of the Pearly Gates, which meant one thing—he would be the first to be struck by the relentless barrage of god-weapons pouring into Heaven. Golden light reflected off the trembling walls of his kingdom as the air itself screamed with destruction.

Jeremia’s heart pounded violently in his chest.

He glanced desperately toward the other Divine Kingdoms scattered across the horizon, their radiant spires still standing—for now. His lips parted as he searched for help, for any sign of intervention. Yet none came. Not a single God moved. They all understood the same brutal truth: if they could not even protect themselves, how could they save another?

Fear coiled tightly around Jeremia’s soul.

Yet desperation gave birth to defiance.

"Invader!" Jeremia shouted, his voice amplified by divine authority as it echoed across the burning sky. "Stop your rampage at once!"

Power would not save him. He knew that much. The force assaulting Heaven was far beyond anything he could oppose directly. So he turned to the only weapon left at his disposal—threats.

"You have invaded Heaven and slaughtered our people!" Jeremia roared, forcing strength into his voice even as terror gnawed at him. "Do you know what this means? Everyone you have ever loved will suffer for this. The men will be enslaved. The women will be reduced to toys."

His words rang with cruelty, desperation masking itself as authority.

"If you do not wish such a fate to fall upon them," he continued, "then stop now. Surrender. Heaven may yet show you mercy."

Jeremia did not truly believe it would work. He was grasping at anything, throwing words into the abyss and praying they would find purchase.

Then—

The god-weapons stopped.

Less than a meter from the outer barrier of his Divine Kingdom, the raining blades and spears froze in midair, humming with restrained destruction. The sudden silence was deafening.

Jeremia’s breath caught.

All around him, the other Gods widened their eyes in disbelief. Shock and awe rippled through their ranks.

Jeremia’s threat worked.