Feathers fell from Mmbeke's shell, crumbling to dust as they landed before the gates of the Sky Kingdom. Towering above them stood a massive golden archway, radiant with a divine light—holy, righteous, and awe-inspiring.
Outside the gate bustled a lively market. Spirits, animals, and other strange beings haggled over goods. Yet something about the scene felt... off. Among the vendors and buyers were a startling number of humans—humans just like Chibuzor.
"You made it sound like the floors were paved in gold," Chibuzor muttered, unimpressed.
"They are, stupid human," Mmbeke replied, unfazed as he continued forward.
"But why are there so many humans? If my history is correct, humans were never banished in such numbers. This… this is too many to have come from our world."
"Who said they're humans?" Mmbeke said as he approached a market stall tended by a spirit.
The spirit barely glanced at Mmbeke before locking eyes with Chibuzor. "What is it you seek—one beneath the gods, below the strong, and above the naïve?"
A strange shiver ran through Chibuzor. A strong, inexplicable sense of déjà vu seized him. *Where have I seen this spirit before? Have I even seen a spirit like this?* There was no answer. The sensation passed like a dream upon waking.
"Oh, you and your riddles," Mmbeke scoffed, addressing the spirit. "I'm standing at the golden gates. What do you think I want?"
The spirit handed Mmbeke a small bag. Without hesitation, Mmbeke placed it over his head. The bag clung to his face like a second skin, tightening until it reshaped itself. When it finally settled, his turtle features were gone—replaced by a human face.
Chibuzor stared in disbelief. Of all the strange things he'd seen, this still managed to unnerve him.
And then the déjà vu returned—stronger this time. That face… it looked familiar. Too familiar. "Why does your new face feel… known to me?" Chibuzor asked.
The spirit perked up, its body wriggling with interest. "Nice skin-mask you've got on, little one," it said to Mmbeke. "Must be a wealthy beast to afford something so realistic." Then, in a language Chibuzor couldn't understand, it added, "Cruel as ever, Mmbeke."
"Maybe it belonged to some nobleman from your time," Mmbeke said with a shrug. "Who knows? Come. We have places to be."
"So… the mask. Why?" Chibuzor asked.
"It's a ritual here," Mmbeke explained. "They all want to be human. They believe their natural forms are impure. Weak. Funny, coming from creatures who call you 'below the strong.'"
"All these 'humans'?" Chibuzor asked.
"Fakes," Mmbeke replied, pointing to a young girl who, with a sharp motion, tore her own face off. Beneath the mask was a winged monkey, which promptly took to the skies, disappearing into the clouds.
"She has wings of her own?" Chibuzor asked with a smirk. "Did she have to roll in mucus like I did?"
"She bought them," Mmbeke replied flatly.
Chibuzor narrowed his eyes. "Bought them?"
"She's from a nobleman's household," Mmbeke said. "We're not."
"I *am* of noble blood," Chibuzor snapped.
"Not here, you aren't," Mmbeke said. "Not in the Sky Kingdom. Now move."
"Oh, tragic human," the spirit called after them. "Your trickery will be your undoing."
At the palace gates stood two towering bird statues. Unlike the others, they wore no disguises. As the travelers approached, the statues came to life, their beaks parting.
"What do you seek, creature below the strong?"
"Do they always say that?" Chibuzor muttered. "It's getting old."
"When you've been banished for eternity, nothing ever gets old," Mmbeke replied.
"I request entrance to the Golden City," Mmbeke declared.
"You are not of royal blood," one statue said. "And knowing you, Mmbeke, you have nothing to trade."
Without hesitation, Mmbeke drew a small knife from his pouch and slashed Chibuzor's cheek. Chibuzor flinched but remained silent. Blood dripped onto the blade. Mmbeke collected a few drops and let them fall onto one of the statue's feathers, which had dropped like stone.
As the blood touched it, the feather shimmered—transforming from lifeless stone to vibrant plumage.
The statue straightened. "Welcome, creature with the gods, above both the strong and the naïve. You must see the king."
"That's new." chibuzor said.
The streets of the golden city were far less magnificent than promised. The only gold to be found was on the shoulder armor of brutish guards who bullied children and harassed civilians. This, Chibuzor realized, was the true bread and breath of Ajofia.
It begged the question: *Which is worse? The savage wilderness, with its monsters and poisoned air—or this? Living as a rat in heaven?*
"How does one become nobility here?" Chibuzor asked.
"Sell your soul," Mmbeke replied simply. "Depends on the price. You *might* gain power. Or you might be plagued by maddened spirits that devour your soul, piece by piece, forever. Or you could just die. And in Ajofia, death might be permanent—no heaven, no hell. Just gone."
He paused. "That, little human, is a fate too grim for me. I'd rather breathe poison. People don't understand—you can't cheat punishment. Try it, and the gods punish harder. I should know."
From within the palace came a voice: "Welcome, Mmbeke. Never thought I'd see your treacherous face again."
The words echoed through the grand hall. Descending slowly from a high throne was a bird-like figure, its feathers sparse, its skin gaunt and withered.
"Who is that?" Chibuzor whispered.
"An old… friend," Mmbeke answered.
"Why does he look like that?"
"That's what eating spirits to remain noble will do to you. Leaves you hollow."
The bird finally reached them, face to face with Mmbeke, studying him. Then it turned its beady eyes on Chibuzor, circling him as if inspecting livestock.
"So this is the real thing?" the bird mused. Then, in its strange tongue, it asked Mmbeke, "Is it a deal?"
Mmbeke said nothing. His face was blank.
"Well then," the bird said, clapping once.
Guards seized Chibuzor. Their grip was brutal. Chibuzor fought, panicked. "Mmbeke! What is this? What's happening? *Mmbeke!*"
The turtle-man only grinned—cold and wicked.
"Give him his gold," the bird ordered.
They dumped cowries before Mmbeke, twelve times his size in shimmering shells.
"By the third law of the Sky Kingdom," the bird proclaimed, "you, Mmbeke, traitor of the animal realm, are hereby pardoned of all crimes of treason. You are rewarded with your weight in cowries and a place among the noblemen."
Chibuzor screamed as the guards dragged him away, his cries echoing through the golden halls.