​"Didn’t you already witness all you needed to?" Norx stepped forward, his red eyes scanning the new greenery on the scroll with pure distaste. "The ’experiment’ is over. You felt the sun, you saw the dirt, and you tasted the bread. What are you doing now? You’re turning a perfectly good trial zone into a garden."

​"You were right that I needed to witness it first-hand," Alias said, his voice warm and certain, disregarding the spite in Norx’s tone.

He turned back to the scroll, adding a cluster of fruit trees near a particularly deep oasis. "I learned that struggle is one thing, but despair is another. I know exactly what I need to do to help them now. Thank you, Norx."

​Norx froze. The ’thank you’ hit him like a physical blow, catching him completely off guard. Usually, Alias would argue with logic or ignore his teasing entirely. He had never thanked him, and definitely not with such... humanity.

​Instead of feeling pleased, Norx felt a sickening drop in his gut. Alias was changing. The cold, predictable Architect was gone, replaced by someone whose eyes held a softness that hadn’t been there an eternity ago. Not before he made his way down to the world.

And Norx knew exactly why. He had seen the kiss on the forehead. He had seen the way Alias had looked at that dark-skinned boy as if he were the only light in a dark world.

​It was unpleasant. It was deeply, bitterly unpleasant.

​"You’re acting like one of them," Norx hissed, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You think these ’routes’ will save them? You’re just giving them a prettier place to die when the cycle ends."

​"It won’t end," Alias replied, his fingers lingering over the spot on the map where Theo’s hut was located, his eyes soft and genuine. "I’m making sure of it."

​Norx watched him, his jaw tight. He hated the way Alias’s pale skin seemed to glow with a warmth that didn’t come from the heavens, but from a memory. He hated that a common thief had managed to do what eons of divine companionship couldn’t—he had made the Architect care.

​"We’ll see about that," Norx murmured, his red eyes flashing, but Alias did not hear it.

He was too busy reeling in the feeling of the warmth in his chest.

​As Alias continued to work, lost in his vision of a better world for Theo, Norx turned away. The jealousy was no longer a spark; it was a slow-burning fire.

If Alias was building a paradise for a mortal, then Norx would simply have to remind him what happens when a god decides to play with shadows.

Alias didn’t wait to see the fire in Norx’s eyes begin to burn. He quickly finished the work because he knew someone was waiting for him.

With his new amendment, the Southern continent was no longer just a land of heat; it was a land of hidden hope.

And then with a final pulse of his divinity into his divine pen, he drew the last route.

"Done,"

Then, he stepped away from the scrolls and let out a warm sigh. With this, Theo will have a place to run to. A land where he wouldn’t have to worry about the wells drying up or how to steal bread when they are out of money and food. He wouldn’t need to starve.

Alias closed his eyes and let the cool air of the heavens wash over him one last time before he made the jump.

The transition back to the mortal world was just as jarring as the first time, but he was prepared for the weight. He materialized on the outskirts of the Southern District, the heat rising from the ground in shimmering waves to greet him.

But the sun was already preparing to set, so it was not as hot as the midday sun.

He looked down at himself. His rough linen tunic had disappeared when he reactivated his divinity and had been replaced by the heavy, shimmering white silks of his divine form.

Right now, his hair was a brilliant, glowing silver once more, and he could feel the faint, rhythmic hum of his halo vibrating just above his brow.

He had been so excited that he forgot to shed his divinity before coming down.

He frowned. On this plain, he looked like a god again, a beacon of light that would draw every eye in, not just the slums, but the entire world.

He needed to find Theo, and he needed to do it without causing a riot. He reached up, manually silencing the chime of his halo, and they shattered into soft freckled lights.

Then, he began to walk toward the familiar path that led to the Lower Ward.

The streets felt different. The air was still hot, but there was a scent of damp earth on the wind that hadn’t been there before—the first sign that his oases were beginning to breathe in the distance.

But as he looked at the people, he realized something was off. The children playing in the dirt, he did not recognize any of them.

And the faces he did recognize had more lines.

"How long...?" he whispered to himself, wondering exactly how long it had been down here while he was up in the heavens.

A few minutes of painting in the heavens could be months, or even years, down here.

Just how much time had passed? He hoped not too long.

"Mister Alias?"

Someone called. The voice was high-pitched and filled with a sudden, sharp disbelief.

Alias turned his head. Standing a few paces away was a young woman. She was tall and lithe, her skin a deep, sun-kissed bronze. She was wearing a simple, faded dress, and her black hair was pulled back in two braids and her eyes... two sharp hazel specs.

Alias squinted. He saw the way she tilted her head, the way her hazel eyes widened with a mixture of awe and recognition.

And then, he saw the image of the seven-year-old girl who had once tried to braid his silver hair with clumsy, sticky fingers while the other children laughed.

"Maya?" Alias asked, his voice barely more than a breath.

The girl’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes welling with tears. "Mister Alias! It’s you! It’s really you!"