The Confusion of Kindness
Aeren looked at them with confusion as all three fell silent after his words. He didn't think he had said anything strange. Three cosmic coins were more than enough to stay for a single day—at least, that was what he believed.
He looked at the three of them in turn, genuinely puzzled by their reactions.
Art watched Aeren carefully and suddenly understood something. There was an unmistakable innocence in Aeren's expression, as if he truly did not realize how absurd his offer sounded in this place. A faint sense of pity stirred within Art. He stepped forward, placed a hand on Aeren's shoulder, and looked at him gently.
"Aarav," Art said in a calm, reassuring voice, "you can stay here as long as you want. Don't restrain yourself. Rest well."
Aeren blinked, still unsure why the atmosphere had shifted so suddenly.
Isha, who moments ago had been openly hostile, also felt her irritation fade. She had been guarding this place fiercely, afraid of outsiders clinging to it once they tasted its benefits. But seeing Aeren now—confused, injured, and clearly unaware of where he truly stood—she felt an unexpected pity. At the very least, she thought, he deserved rest. She gave a small nod of agreement.
Swapn said nothing. He simply turned and returned to the backyard, leaving the matter in Art's hands. Aeren watched their reactions, unable to understand why everyone had suddenly softened toward him.
Art patted Aeren's shoulder once more and then returned to his seat, picking up his brush. As he settled back in front of the canvas, he began trying to paint Aeren. Without turning around, he spoke again.
"Miss Isha, please show Aarav a room where he can rest. Also, prepare some clean clothes for him." He paused briefly, then added, "And Aarav, you don't need to pay anything. Stay here as long as you like."
With that, Art let the matter pass into their hands, his attention returning to the painting—while Aeren stood there, still trying to understand how a simple offer of coins had led him to unexpected kindness.
"Certainly, Master. Rest assured, I will guide him," Isha replied at once.
She already knew why Art wished to be left alone. For months now, she had seen him stand before that canvas, brush in hand, unable to finish what he wanted to paint. She knew better than to interrupt him. More than that, she knew her place.
Art had helped her before—far more than she ever deserved. The guidance he gave her had lifted her status beyond anything she had once imagined possible in her life. Because of that, she served him with genuine devotion. She wanted to help him, truly, but she also knew her limits. She was far too weak to understand Art, let alone assist him in what he sought. The thought left a quiet pang of guilt in her heart, mixed with helplessness she could not erase.
"Thank you, Young Master," Aeren said politely, still unable to fully grasp Art's reaction or the sudden change in everyone's attitude.
The Nature of Aeren's Blindness
Aeren had already reached a point where there was no "beyond." To him, the difference between an ant and a human no longer mattered. In his eyes, they were the same—all equally insignificant, all equally real, all equally nothing. That was why he could not see where his words had gone wrong—and why he simply accepted what was given and followed Isha without question.
Isha led the way, leaving Art behind with his painting. As they walked toward the rooms, her tone shifted. She did not look at Aeren as she spoke, but her voice was firm and serious.
"Listen carefully, Aarav," she said. "The Master is far beyond anything you can imagine. This entire place is his creation. Everything here belongs to him." She slowed her steps slightly. "If you even think of stealing something, or using anything here for evil purposes, you will not live to see the next day."
Her gaze sharpened. "One more thing. In this place, you must respect the Master, Senior Swapn, and every being who lives here. The Master is an existence that even Heaven respects and follows. Never think of going against him. Never think of harming him."
She stopped for a moment, letting her words sink in. "If you do," she finished coldly, "Heaven itself will bite you." Her warning did not sound like an exaggeration. It sounded like experience.
Aeren smiled faintly when he heard the word Heaven.
All humans here call Nothingness as heaven. They were not wrong. Creation itself began from Nothingness—so in that sense, it truly was heaven. Hearing the word spoken so solemnly by someone who unknowingly worshipped Hell was oddly amusing. That was why Aeren felt the urge to return the surprise she had tried to impose on him.
The Reveal
"Oh my, Miss Saintess," Aeren said lightly, his tone polite yet strangely playful, "Thank you for your generous and kind words. I will remember everything you shared with me."
The moment the words left his mouth, Isha froze. Aeren noticed it immediately. Her body stiffened. A faint tremor ran through her shoulders. Something in his voice had triggered recognition—not of who he was, but of what he was.
Aeren took a step forward, moving around until he stood in front of her. When she lifted her head, he saw it clearly—wide eyes staring at him with cold disbelief. The sight amused him.
He smiled again and spoke softly: "Speak, my demoness saint. Don't freeze like that."
Isha swallowed. Cold sweat trickled down her temple as she stared at Aeren's smile. To her, it felt as though she was looking at a devil wearing a human face. Her instincts screamed danger, and she nearly stepped back.
"Who… who are you?" she asked, her voice tight and trembling.
Aeren tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question for the first time.
"Well, you already know," he replied calmly. "I'm Aarav Dev. I have no background beyond that."
His tone flattened, losing its playful edge entirely.
"You don't need to fear me. I'm only staying for a day." He paused, his eyes resting on her calmly. "I was simply amused," he continued, "that you worship Hell yet speak so confidently of Heaven. I only reminded you of what you truly serve."
His words were neither threatening nor loud. That made them worse—the calmness of someone stating simple fact, the gentleness of someone who could destroy her without effort.
Isha remained frozen, her thoughts in disarray. Her eyes darted instinctively to the side—left, then right—as if searching for something to ground herself. At that moment, a cat leapt lightly onto her shoulder. The cat turned its head and stared directly at Aeren. Aeren noticed it.
The World Between Heaven and Hell
In this world, there are two things that all living beings worship.
One is Heaven. The other is Hell.
Those who worship Hell are called Demons. Those who worship Heaven are called Gods. But there are no true humans here—all beings in this place exist as either Gods or Demons, even if they pretend otherwise.
They live in a land where Gods are born, where age does not exist, and where youth never fades. Their bodies do not decay, and their lives have no natural limit. Yet despite this blessing, they are trapped in endless conflict—because of Heaven and Hell.
They kill one another endlessly.
Each side wants to survive. Each side wants to prove its worship is righteous. Each side wants to destroy the other. Countless wars have already taken place. Countless beings have dissolved into the world. And every dissolution expands the world itself.
Expansion is the nature of this realm, as beings die in it and are absorbed by it, expanding every time someone dissolves. God or Demon do not die—they dissolve into the world, becoming part of its fabric, feeding its growth.
But Hell—Pause—is different.
In Hell, the world is so vast that it cannot be compared to the world in Heaven where Gods and Demons exist. Hell is the true end. The place of absolute stillness. The eventual destination of all expansion. It is not a place of creation—it is a place where creation goes to cease.
That is why, in the future, the world will continue to expand—only to be absorbed by Hell in the end. Heaven will eventually be swallowed. Expansion will reach its limit, and Pause will claim everything.
Why They Worship
So why do they worship Heaven or Hell if Hell will consume them all?
The reason is simple.
Heaven gives warmth—the warmth of beginning, and the comfort of believing in an end that leads somewhere else. Heaven promises meaning. Heaven promises continuation. Heaven lies beautifully.
Hell gives fear.
Fear so deep that it cannot be ignored. Fear that seeps into them every night when darkness covers the world. They bow to Hell because Hell is their true end. They feel it every night. And they cannot endure it. That is why they worship—to escape despair. Without worship, fear overwhelms them. They lose themselves. They break. They dissolve into madness.
This is why Demons are feared even by Heaven's followers.
They are consumed by terror. They perform rituals of blood and death. They devour hearts—of Gods, of beings, of anything in their path—believing this proves sincerity toward Hell. Their madness is not cruelty alone. It is desperation. They worship Hell not because they love it—but because they cannot survive without it.
The rituals give them purpose. The blood gives them certainty. The deaths give them the illusion of control over the thing they fear most.
And so this world continues—balanced between warmth and fear, creation and end, Heaven and Hell—moving inevitably toward the truth that waits in Pause.