In the quiet, glowing space of the heavens, the Heavenly Scrolls drifted through the air like slow-moving rivers of light. These weren’t made of paper; they were long, shimmering sheets that held the blueprints for everything in the world below—the wind, the trees, and the lives of every person.

Alias stood in the middle of them, his long silver hair glowing softly. He was the Architect, the one responsible for making sure the world actually worked the way he had designed it.

Right now, he was focused on a large scroll that showed the Southern Zone, and his brow was furrowed in worry.

The crystal rings of his halo—which usually spun in a perfect, calm rhythm—slowed down. The light on the scroll was turning a bright, angry orange.

"It’s too hot," Alias muttered to himself. "I looked at the rainfall levels, and they aren’t enough. If the sun stays this strong, the people in the south won’t be able to grow anything. They’ll run out of water before the month is over."

"Then let them run out, Alias. We can always just wipe the slate clean and try again. It’s not like we’re short on time."

The voice was playful and a bit rough. Alias didn’t have to look up to know it was Norx.

Norx walked over, his tanned skin looking dark against the bright light of the scrolls. He was a striking sight—black hair that was messy on top but tied into two long tails in the back, and eyes that were a sharp, glowing red. The crown of dark flames floating above his head flickered with a bit of purple light as he leaned over Alias’s shoulder.

He was Alia’s partner, who was in charge of everything else that was not the structure of the world. Lives, the seasons, the mindset of humans, but he could not actively interfere with his creations like Alias could with the structure. Because anything with life had unpredictability in their blood. He made it so, but he wonders if he made a mistake in that aspect.

Well, it did not matter because he was not as invested in the worlds they built like Alias was.

"You’re worrying about their water again," Norx teased, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Why does it matter if it’s a little harsh down there? Humans are more interesting when they have to struggle. A guy who has to fight to find a well is much more fun to watch than one who has everything handed to him."

"It’s not ’fun’ if they all die, Norx," Alias replied, his voice calm but frustrated. He reached out to adjust the light on the scroll, trying to bring some rain to the area, but Norx’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

Norx’s skin was hot—not like a fever, but like he was made of pure energy.

"You’re always fixing things, always trying to make it perfect," Norx whispered, his red eyes locked onto Alias’s face. "You’ve spent thousands of years staring at these maps. You know exactly how many grains of sand are in that desert, but you’ve never actually felt the sun on your skin, have you?"

Alias looked at him with eyes that asked, We are the creators. Do we have to experience the weather to know it is hot?

Norx reached out and playfully flicked one of the crystal rings of Alias’s halo, making it chime like a bell. "You’re a builder who has never stepped inside his own house, so how will you know if it’s cozy or too cramped? How do you know the sun is ’too hot’ for them if you don’t even know what it’s like to sweat?"

Alias looked back down at the scroll. He could see the tiny glowing dots that represented human villages. They looked so small and fragile against the vast, scorched landscape.

For the first time, he felt a strange poke of curiosity that he couldn’t satisfy just by looking at a scroll.

"Maybe you’re right," Alias said quietly. "I know the numbers, but I don’t know the feeling."

Norx’s grin got wider, showing off his white teeth. He loved getting a reaction out of the serious Architect. "Then go down there, Alias. Take off the fancy silks and leave the halo here. Go see your ’precious’ humans for yourself. Just don’t come back whining when you realize how dusty it is."

Alias didn’t argue. He looked at the southern map one last time. He didn’t just want to change the weather anymore; he wanted to see how those people managed to keep going when things were so difficult.

Without another word, Alias let his power fade. It was as easy as taking off a robe.

The crystal rings of his halo shattered into harmless sparks of light, and his glowing silver hair turned into a normal, duller shade.

He was going down to the South.

He wasn’t going as a god to fix things—he was going as a stranger, just to see what it was like to be thirsty under a sun he had helped create. This way, he would be able to understand the needs of the Southern people better and help them when he returns.

The transition from the heavens to the mortal realm felt like being plunged into a furnace.

One moment, Alias was surrounded by the cool, humming silence of the stars; the next, his lungs were burning with air that tasted of dry earth and heat.

He arrived at the edge of a bustling marketplace in the southern kingdom. The sun was a relentless, golden weight above, exactly as the scrolls had warned. But seeing it on a map was nothing like feeling it.

’I was right, the sun is too high. I definitely have to fix it,’ He thought as he instinctively used the back of his palm to catch the sweat on his chin and he paused. ’Sweat?’

Alias looked down at his hands—they were no longer translucent, but solid and pale, standing out sharply against the sea of tanned, bronzed skin around him. But that wasn’t it. He just got here and he was already sweating, something he had never done before.

The noise was deafening. Merchants shouted over the bleating of livestock, and the air was thick with the scent of spices and sweat. Alias walked through the crowd, his steps uncertain. He felt heavy, his feet sinking slightly into the fine dust of the road.

’I need to hurry and get out of here,’ He thought, the heat slowly getting to his head.

He planned to observe every little detail before he went back to the heavens and made amendments.