Parallel Earth
Parallel Earth.
The phrase still felt strange to rlin, even after months of training with Adam and the others. He’d been to multiple dinsions now, seen worlds that defied imagination, but standing here—on the ground of his original reality—was sothing else entirely.
The sky was the right shade of blue. The air slled like ho—that particular mix of city and nature that he’d grown up with. In the distance, he could see the skyline of a city he recognized, buildings he’d passed a thousand tis in his previous life.
"Wow," rlin breathed. "Having full control as a Concept really is sothing else. I can feel everything. Every atom, every energy signature, every living thing on this entire planet." He looked at his hands. "I never could have done this before. Never even imagined it."
Adam stepped through the portal behind him, hands in his pockets as always. He glanced around at the unfamiliar landscape, taking in the differences from his own version of Earth. The cars were slightly different. The architecture had subtle variations. Small things, but noticeable.
Then he looked up.
His eyes narrowed.
There, in the sky—not visible to normal sight, but unmistakable to soone like him—was a presence. Familiar. Warm. Sothing he hadn’t felt in longer than he cared to rember.
"Dad," Adam said quietly.
rlin turned. "What?"
Adam kept staring at the sky. "Alex told they brought him back. Made him a god in a world they created just for him." A slow smile spread across his face. "This is that world. He’s here."
rlin followed his gaze, though he couldn’t see what Adam was seeing. "Your father? The one who—"
"Yeah." Adam’s voice was soft. "The one who died. A long ti ago." He started walking, not toward the city, but toward the sky itself. "I need to go see him."
rlin watched as Adam rose into the air, moving with that casual ease that defied all logic. He considered following, then decided against it. So reunions were private.
"Take your ti," he called after Adam. "I’ll be here."
Adam didn’t look back. He just kept rising, higher and faster, until he vanished from sight.
---
The divine realm of this world existed in a layer of reality that most beings couldn’t perceive, let alone access. It was a place of pure light and form, where gods and lesser immortals gathered in hierarchies that had been established over millennia.
Adam passed through the boundary between worlds like it wasn’t there. One mont he was in the sky of rlin’s Earth; the next, he stood in a vast hall of marble and light, surrounded by beings who radiated power.
They noticed him imdiately.
A figure stepped forward—tall, golden-armored, with eyes that blazed like small suns. He held a spear that crackled with divine energy.
"State your na and purpose, stranger," the golden figure demanded. "This is the realm of the High God. Mortals are not permitted here."
Adam looked at him. Then at the spear. Then back at his face.
"I’m not a mortal," he said mildly. "And I’m here to see my father."
The golden figure’s eyes widened slightly. "Your father? Who—"
But Adam was already walking past him, heading toward the throne at the far end of the hall.
"Stop!" The golden figure lunged, spear aid at Adam’s back.
The spear passed through Adam like he wasn’t there. The golden figure stumbled, off-balance, staring at his weapon in disbelief.
Others moved to intercept. A woman in flowing silver robes raised her hands, and bands of light shot toward Adam, ant to bind him in place. They passed through him too. A massive figure with the head of a lion swung a hamr that could shatter mountains. It passed through Adam’s chest without resistance.
Adam kept walking.
He phased through a dozen more beings—through their weapons, their magic, their bodies—without slowing down. They shouted, cursed, attacked with everything they had. None of it touched him. None of it even made him blink.
At the throne, an old man rose from his seat.
He looked exactly as Adam rembered. The sa kind eyes. The sa weathered face. The sa gentle smile that had greeted Adam every morning when he was a child, before everything changed.
"Adam," the old man said. His voice was warm, familiar, like coming ho. "My son."
Adam stopped at the base of the throne. For a long mont, he just looked at his father—really looked, taking in every detail, confirming that this was real and not so trick or illusion.
"Dad," he said quietly.
The old man descended from the throne, moving with the careful grace of soone who had beco accustod to divinity but hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to be human. He stopped in front of Adam and reached out, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder.
"You grew up," he said. "I watched. I couldn’t interfere—the rules of this place don’t allow it—but I watched. Every mont. Every struggle. Every victory." His eyes glistened. "I’m so proud of you."
Adam’s throat tightened. He hadn’t expected this to hit him so hard. He’d faced down gods, rewritten reality, beco sothing beyond comprehension. But standing here, in front of his father, he felt like a child again.
"I thought I’d never see you again," Adam managed.
"I thought the sa." His father smiled. "But your brother—he found a way. Created this place for . Gave purpose, aning, a way to watch over the worlds without interfering." He shook his head slowly. "I don’t fully understand what he is now, what you both have beco. But I understand love. And I know you’re still my sons, no matter what else you are."
Adam nodded, not trusting his voice.
Behind them, the divine beings of the realm had stopped their attacks. They stood in stunned silence, watching the exchange, realizing that this stranger—this being who had walked through them like mist—was the son of their god.
One of them, the golden-armored figure from before, stepped forward hesitantly. "High God... this is your son?"
Adam’s father glanced back at him. "He is. And if any of you ever try to stop him from entering this realm again, you’ll answer to personally." His voice was gentle, but the authority behind it was absolute.
The golden figure bowed deeply. "It will not happen again, High God."
Adam almost laughed. His father, giving orders to gods. It was absurd and wonderful and exactly the kind of thing the old man deserved.
"Co," his father said, turning back to Adam. "Walk with . Tell everything."
Adam nodded, falling into step beside him. They walked through the hall of light, past the bowing immortals, out into a garden that stretched across an infinite sky.
And for the first ti in longer than he could rember, Adam talked. Not as an Absolute. Not as a being of incomprehensible power. Just as a son, catching up with his father.
It felt like coming ho.
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