He watched the game for a while.
Ian waited for his two older brothers to go upstairs to sleep. Jonathan went up first, his footsteps heavy, thudding on the stairs as if he were deliberately letting the whole house know he had left.
Jordan only stood up a few minutes later. He turned off the living room light, then paused when he reached the foot of the stairs and glanced back at Ian. "You're not sleeping yet?"
"In a bit."
Jordan did not ask further. He turned and went upstairs. His footsteps gradually grew lighter on the stairs, until they were cut off by the sound of a door closing at the end of the hallway. Ian sat on the sofa a while longer, and only after confirming that upstairs had gone completely quiet did he stand and walk out the door. The door gently shut behind him. Moonlight spilled over the grass in the yard, turning the tips silver-white.
He did not go far. He merely took one step forward. After that single step, Ian was standing inside the palace of Heaven.
Golden colonnades stretched out on either side of him. A dome spread overhead, and the floor was paved with polished golden stone slabs that reflected his figure. White light seeped in between the columns, pure and warm—not the warmth of sunlight, but more like something constant, a temperature with no fluctuation and no weight.
He walked past those columns without looking at the scenery on either side and passed through the open door.
At the center of the palace, the throne cast from gold and ivory hovered above the steps. Patterns of the birth of the universe were carved into its back, and inlaid gemstones glimmered faintly in the light.
"How deserted."
Ian climbed the steps, turned,