The Celestial Ladder was a creation forged by the Beast God since the very beginning of Her descent upon the Blue Planet.
It spanned the gap between the virtual and the real; only beings with the purest of hearts could part the mists of civilization and catch a glimpse of the white light leading to the Divine Realm.
Every prayer, plea, and cry for help transformed into silken threads of light, traveling up the ladder directly to the Divine Ears.
The Beast God looked down upon all spirits, listening to the truth of their hearts—either granting their wishes or providing enlightenment.
Along the way, "she" encountered many of her kind. Some were solid entities, others translucent phantoms; some were as massive as mountains, others as tiny as dust.
All were climbing with all their might, their eyes shimmering with the same longing for a "final home".
A curious little fox asked her, "Why can you climb so fast?"
She tilted her head and gave a cunning, lighthearted smile.
"Because I was the very first small animal to respond to our Great Beast God's call. Am I smart? Humans have a saying: 'The brave enjoy the world first'. I'm that brave one, heehee."
Her peers' eyes filled with simple admiration. They did not understand jealousy, much less how to set traps or betray. This transparent instinct drove them only to quicken their pace, striving to follow the light.
Love was love, hate was hate; the world of animals was as simple as a clear spring.
The snow-white ladder finally reached its end.
In that Divine Realm where one could see the rise and fall of the starry sea, she met the Goddess who ruled over all spirits.
"My Great Goddess—"
Her voice carried an irrepressible joy, an absolute dependence that transcended species and life and death, and she secretly thought: things are really different here.
She slowly turned around. The chaotic, noisy projection of the Blue Planet behind Her appeared like a negligible speck of dust.
She looked at the soul before Her, which had completely shed its beastly form yet remained enveloped in the purest spiritual light.
At that moment, the coldness in Her eyes thawed for the very first time.
"Thy bravery hath saved thee, and likewise, thy kin."
"Thank you, my Great Goddess! For saving me, and for saving Zhizhi!" She was so excited she became incoherent, her joy unmasked as she hovered on the verge of happy tears.
She nodded slightly, Her voice like spring thunder rolling over an ice plain.
"The Causality hath been crossed; he's on his way home."
Hearing this, the tears in the girl's eyes finally overflowed. She was profoundly grateful that she had summoned her courage in that pivotal moment.
Though she knew the deity would never abandon Her "subjects"—for they were the "children" She regarded as Her own—having it confirmed by Goddess's own voice brought a happiness sufficient to fill all the suffering of her past life.
She raised a fingertip, and astral power gathered in the void.
"Henceforth, I bestow upon thee a name—Qinghong (Clear Rainbow). It signifieth 'the rainbow that must appear after the rain.' Doth it please thee?"
"I love it, I love it so much... thank you, my Great Goddess. I finally... have a name..." Her sobbing voice rippled through the silent Divine Realm, carrying no sadness, only overflowing bliss.
The divine decree transformed into shimmering characters, circling in the void.
As the name "Qinghong" settled, the last trace of the grey, ash-like deathly aura unique to her demise vanished completely.
In its place, a rainbow-colored veil of light draped over her shoulders, every inch of shadow and glow pulsing in sync with her heartbeat.
She moved with light steps, the veil swaying in the breeze. Against the vast, infinite backdrop, she looked like a charming lady-in-waiting who had stepped out of an ancient painting.
She instinctively looked at her now jade-like, translucent fingers, remembering how, in that cold glass box, these hands had once been tiny, trembling claws covered in needle marks.
Within the Divine Realm, Qinghong gently stroked the rainbow veil, her eyes full of wonder. A glow flew from her heart to Her presence, transforming into a piece of... a puzzle?
She placed it aside, letting it float in a specific spot, carefully covering it with a protective shield. Having done this, She looked at Qinghong, who was still smiling sillily with a childhood innocence.
Witnessing this, a slight curve appeared at the corner of Her lips. She spoke softly: "Qinghong, I have a task to entrust to thee."
As soon as the words fell, She raised Her hand, revealing a cluster of light.
"My Great Goddess, please give me your orders! Qinghong can do anything!" She thumped her chest heavily to prove her reliability, but used too much force and ended up in a fit of coughing.
She nodded and slowly channeled the light into Qinghong's body. Instantly, Qinghong understood her mission, and a flicker of difficulty crossed her face.
Seeing this, She asked, "Doth it trouble thee?"
Qinghong immediately shook her head and waved her hands. "How could it, my Great Goddess? You aren't asking me to do anything dangerous."
She paused, then said shyly, "...It's just that I'm worried I won't be able to complete the mission well. After all, I used to be very useless." Her voice grew smaller as her hands unconsciously scratched the back of her wrists.
It wasn't a feeling of being wronged, but rather the trepidation of a child afraid of failing a task given by a parent.
The Great Beast God chuckled softly. She stepped toward the girl and rubbed her head; Qinghong's hair was black, shiny, and incredibly soft.
"It matters not. I believe in thee," She said, Her tone like a parent encouraging a child.
Qinghong was instantly revitalized, responding with boundless energy: "Qinghong obeys! Qinghong will do a very, very good job!"
A soft spot in The Great Beast God's heart grew even warmer. Recalling the popular phrases of the Blue Planet, She lowered Her hand and made a fist of encouragement.
"Fighting."
This wasn't just a full-health recovery for Qinghong anymore; it was like a shot of adrenaline. "Yes, my Great Beast God! I will work hard!"
The Beast God smiled, then turned to the Nightmare Beast, who was waiting to the side, before looking back at the projection of the Blue Planet.
"Thy friend, Zhizhi." Her words immediately caught the attention of the bubbling Qinghong.
"What happened to Zhizhi?" she asked, instantly becoming tense.
She remembered the past. Back in the cage, when a hand reached out to grab her, it was a fancy rat—larger than her—who shielded her. She had watched that hand snatch him away. On his belly was a "heart-shaped" patch of fur.
When that hand took it, the rubber glove was stained with the blood of some unknown creature. A red droplet had landed on her fur; it was the first time she felt the warmth of a life being taken so easily.
That was why, upon being saved, she immediately begged the Beast God to save Zhizhi. He truly was her "lifesaver".
A celestial breeze drifted through the DivineRealm, scattering their conversation into the wind. Aside from the Nightmare Beast, no other creature heard them clearly.
The Nightmare Beast, bored with the wait, cast Its gaze toward a water mirror It found particularly interesting.
Three Blue Lion Country, The Presidential Palace.
Inside the Oval Office, the atmosphere was so heavy it felt as if the air itself could bleed. The President's face was livid as he slammed his tablet into the ground, shattering the screen.
"Useless! A pack of useless fools! You can't even find one lawyer!" he roared at the Director of Intelligence and the Minister of Defense.
Lawyer Hans, the man who had delivered the final speech in the virtual space announcing that "humanity has lost the right to interpret nature", had vanished as if he had evaporated into thin air.
His home was under surveillance, his records checked, and his contacts interrogated, but there were no leads. He had simply ceased to exist.
"Mr. President, we suspect... Lawyer Hans may no longer be in this dimension," the Intelligence Director said cautiously, his voice trembling slightly.
After the trials and the global anomalies, even these firm atheists felt their convictions wavering.
"Not in this dimension? What does that mean?!" the President barked.
"Based on the analysis of the final moments in the virtual space, Lawyer Hans walked toward a spatial ripple... likely a portal to another world," the Defense Minister added. "Furthermore, the nebula symbol on his forehead is something we've never seen. It seems to represent a special status."
"A special status? Is he a messenger of God? Or a... traitor?!" The President's voice was filled with rage and a deeply hidden terror.
"We don't know," the Intelligence Director shook his head. "But one thing is certain: his disappearance is closely tied to 'humanity losing the right to interpret nature'."
"The right to interpret..." the President muttered. The term felt like a boulder on his chest.
—What did it mean? It meant humans could no longer arbitrarily define what was "useful" or "useless"; what was "harmful" or "beneficial"; what was "progress" or "regress".
In the past, humans could clear-cut forests for "a higher standard of living". They could slaughter animals for "economic benefit".
They could pollute for "industrial necessity".
Now, that right had been stripped away.
Who would interpret now? God? Or the creatures humans had once trampled upon?
The President looked out the window. The once-bustling streets were eerily quiet.
Outside, a bulldozer mid-construction suddenly jerked and died, as if strangled. The few pedestrians walking by were hollow-eyed and shuffling, like soulless husks.
He knew an unprecedented upheaval had arrived, and humanity was not ready. He picked up an encrypted phone and dialed.
"Activate 'Project Ark'," he said with a voice of exhausted resolve. "We must prepare for the worst."
There was a silence on the other end before a cold voice replied: "Understood, Mr. President."
The so-called "Project Ark" was an emergency contingency plan secretly developed by various nations.
Its purpose was to protect a small fraction of the "elite" humans and preserve the seeds of civilization—either on other planets or in deep underground bunkers—should the Blue Planet face a cataclysmic end.
In the past, it was nothing more than a far-fetched fantasy; now, it seemed to be their only remaining hope.
After hanging up the phone, the President's spine slumped. A man barely in his forties, he suddenly looked as aged and withered as someone at death's door.
"I only hope... everything goes smoothly."