Arin lifted his gaze.
It met hers.
For a brief moment.
And though he wanted to speak—
To ask why…
To demand what that was…
To say anything—
No sound came.
His throat felt dry.
His mind was fractured.
His heart was still racing violently, slamming against his ribs as if trying to escape his body.
He couldn't think.
Every attempt at forming a sentence dissolved into fragments of that void—
That moment of absolute nonexistence.
His fingers were still trembling.
His breathing uneven.
And in that silence—
Caelum noticed.
He had witnessed countless wars.
He had stood upon battlefields where entire legions were erased.
He had watched cities fall.
Souls shatter.
Existences rewritten.
And he had felt nothing.
It was not cruelty.
It was simply order.
The Goddess commanded.
He obeyed.
Without hesitation.
Without question.
Without emotion.
That was his purpose.
But now—
As he looked at Arin—
Something unfamiliar stirred.
The human's eyes were wide.
Not in defiance.
Not in anger.
But in something raw.
Primal.
Fear.
And it lingered.
Not fading.
Not stabilizing.
Arin was not recovering.
He was unraveling.
Before he consciously realized it—
Caelum stepped forward slightly.
"My Lady…"
His voice remained respectful.
But it was different.
Softer.
There was a pause.
"Forgive my insolence."
The Goddess' gaze shifted to him.
She had not expected him to speak.
"I believe this human cannot yet comprehend the magnitude of your divine authority."
His tone remained composed.
But deliberate.
"I humbly suggest we address this matter once his mind has regained stability."
The words were carefully chosen.
He did not question her.
He did not oppose her.
He simply… intervened.
For the first time—
Not because he was ordered.
But because he chose to.
A faint silence followed.
The Goddess studied him.
Interesting.
Caelum.
Speaking for another.
And for a human, no less.
She could sense it clearly.
This was not strategy.
Not manipulation.
It was… instinct.
After a moment—
She gave a small nod.
"Very well."
Her voice returned to its calm cadence.
"You are dismissed."
The pressure in the hall eased.
Not completely—
But enough.
Caelum placed a hand lightly on Arin's shoulder.
"Stand."
Arin obeyed mechanically.
His movements stiff.
Distant.
They turned.
And walked.
---
The corridor felt longer than usual.
Or perhaps Arin's perception was distorted.
He said nothing.
Not a word.
His steps were steady—
But empty.
His eyes remained slightly unfocused.
Wide.
Caelum could still see it.
The fear had not diminished.
It had rooted itself deep.
Arin wasn't just shaken.
He had been broken for a moment—
And restored against his will.
And that realization had not settled.
It echoed.
With every step.
They reached his chamber.
The door opened silently.
Arin stepped inside.
He paused.
Caelum stood at the threshold.
For a moment—
He considered leaving without speaking.
That would have been natural.
Efficient.
Cold.
Instead—
He spoke.
"Rest."
A small pause.
Then, more quietly—
"Divine power is not meant to be understood in a single moment."
His eyes met Arin's.
And there was something there now.
Not warmth.
But not emptiness either.
"You endured."
That was all he said.
But those two words carried weight.
You endured.
He turned.
And left.
The door closed softly.
---
Arin remained standing for several seconds.
Then slowly—
He sank onto the edge of his bed.
His hands gripped the fabric tightly.
His breathing was steadier now.
But his thoughts were not.
Until today—
He believed there were limits.
Rules.
Boundaries even she followed.
He thought—
She wouldn't truly harm him.
Not in a way that would scar him.
Not in a way that would break him.
Because of whatever contract governed this place.
Because of whatever system allowed him to exist here.
But now—
He knew.
She could erase him.
Bring him back.
Erase him again.
And it would mean nothing to her.
It had not been anger.
It had not been punishment.
It had been curiosity.
That frightened him more than anything.
He lowered his head into his hands.
The memory replayed.
That void.
That absence.
The moment he wasn't.
A tremor ran through him.
For the first time since arriving here—
Arin felt genuine fear toward her.
Not respect.
Not awe.
Not caution.
Fear.
And he understood something clearly now.
He was not protected.
He was permitted.
And permission—
Could be revoked.
Silence filled the room.
But sleep would not come easily tonight.