The Heavenly Judgement was, as always, bustling with activity. Twelve people, gods or not, wouldn't have been enough to sort through all the souls that would find themselves amid these shadowed halls and their arching pathways. The magic in this place dampened the sound of voices, preventing people away from hearing them, but even so, the whispers of the dead created a constant silken hum, as unavoidable as the rustle of waves near the ocean.
There always was a huge workload, but the system of sorting through dead souls was well-organised and only further perfected by centuries of its work. Towering figures of guards clad in polished armour led the newly appeared souls, no matter how distraught or confused they were, towards endless desks that lined the main hall.
