The seventh chime of the Heavenly Ascension Gate had tolled across the mortal plane when Frank took his second stride onto the golden risers.
Step 2.
Step 3.
Each step was with a deep, ringing THUMP of heavy rubber soles striking sky star-gold.
Above him, eight thousand feet into the troposphere, the two twenty-foot Immortal Envoys stood on Step 12, their mirror-polished silver breastplates catching the blinding white light of the upper high sky.
The lead envoy lowered his silver trumpet, lifted his eighty-foot diamond-bladed axe-spear. Then it pointed it down at Frank’s overalls.
His divine voice rolled down the stairway in a commanding, sky proclamation that rattled the stones of the mountains:
“MORTAL ASCENDANT LU ZHEN!” the envoy bellowed, his silver visor flashing with harsh, unforgiving light. “CAST AWAY YOUR MORTAL IMPLEMENTS! THE IMMORTAL REALM PERMITS NO CRUDE MORTAL IRON TO CROSS THE THRESHOLD OF ETERNITY!”
