The days following the garden incident passed quietly.
Too quietly.
Arin did not see the Goddess again.
Not even her presence brushed against the air.
That alone terrified him.
He stayed close to Caelum—closer than before. Wherever the celestial being went, Arin followed, listening with the attention of someone whose life hung by a thread.
And it did.
Rules.
So many rules.
Where he could walk.
Where he must never step.
What to do if a god addressed him.
What not to say.
Where to lower his eyes.
When to kneel.
When to run.
He memorized them like sacred scripture.
Not because he wanted to…
…but because forgetting even one meant death.
"Assume everything here can kill you," Caelum had said calmly.
"And you'll survive longer."
A few days passed like that.
And slowly—almost dangerously—Arin began to breathe again.
The palace hallway was vast, its ceiling stretching endlessly above, etched with flowing constellations that moved ever so slightly, as if time itself was alive there.
Arin walked through it with light steps.
Too light.
He was smiling.
Actually—no—
he was giggling.
A soft whistle escaped his lips as his hands rested behind his head, his footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floor.
"Fifteen days…" he muttered to himself, eyes bright.
"Already fifteen days."
He grinned wider.
"Three hundred and fifty days left."
His shoulders relaxed for the first time since his death.
Freedom.
The word tasted sweet.
He almost laughed again when—
"You look surprisingly happy today."
Arin turned.
Caelum stood there, arms crossed, golden eyes narrowed with curiosity.
Arin's grin only widened.
"Oh, come on ," he said cheerfully.
"You know why."
Caelum raised an eyebrow.
Arin spun around, walking backward now, excitement bubbling out of him.
"Isn't it obvious? I've been counting the days! Fifteen days already passed!"
He lifted his fingers dramatically.
"That means—365 minus 15…"
He paused, calculating with exaggerated seriousness.
"Only 350 days to go !"
He clenched his fist.
"My freedom !"
For a moment, Arin stood there glowing with hope.
Then he noticed Caelum's face.
The smile was gone.
What replaced it wasn't anger…
or amusement…
It was pity.
The kind that hurt more than cruelty.
The kind adults make when a child shows them a broken dream, thinking it still works.
Caelum stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Arin's shoulder.
"You poor soul," he said softly.
Arin's smile faltered.
"…What?"
Caelum sighed.
"Have you not understood till now?"
Arin tilted his head, confused.
Caelum's voice was calm. Too calm.
"Time flows differently in Heaven," he began.
"And more so in the Goddess of Time's palace."
Arin felt something tighten in his chest.
"This domain is hers," Caelum continued.
"Here, time moves slower than even Heaven itself."
Arin swallowed.
"…How much slower?"
Caelum hesitated.
Then spoke.
"Half."
The hallway suddenly felt too large.
"To conclude," Caelum said gently,
"It's only been a day at most."
Silence.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that crushes.
Arin's fingers trembled.
"No…" he whispered.
His knees buckled.
He collapsed onto the cold palace floor.
"Caelu…m…" his voice cracked.
"Don't joke around…"
Caelum looked away.
"It's true," he said, unable to suppress a nervous laugh —
one caught between guilt and disbelief.
For Arin, the world shattered.
The days he had counted.
The smiles.
The whistles.
Gone.
His palms pressed against the floor as despair swallowed him whole.
Then—
"But hey," Caelum said suddenly.
Arin barely looked up.
"You know what?"
A pause.
"If you truly survive one year here," Caelum continued slowly,
"without dying…"
Arin's breathing stilled.
"…then maybe—just maybe—I can request the Elder God."
Arin's eyes widened.
"And send you to your dream world ."
Hope flickered.
Caelum's voice softened as he described it.
"A world filled with peace ," he said.
"No suffering.
Nature everywhere.
Days filled with a life perfectly suited for you."
Something lit up inside Arin.
His eyes shimmered, faint sparks reflecting in them like stars finding their way back into a dark sky.
"…Is it true?" he asked quietly.
"Does a place like that really exist?"
Caelum nodded.
"Only if you survive here," he replied with a lazy shrug .
"Then I'd have a better chance of negotiating."
Arin clenched his fists.
The despair didn't vanish.
But now—
It had a direction.
Survive.
Just survive.
Because right now…
Being alive was still the most important thing in the universe.