The hospital hallway was silent. Only the sound of Caelum Draven's boots echoed on the white tile floor, like the pauses between bated breaths. His eyes were glued to the patient files in his hands, but his mind was still fixated on you—the most difficult, most complicated, and most broken patient he had ever treated.

Every encounter with you felt like stepping into endless darkness. The trauma that had shattered your mind had built a high wall inside your soul, locking you in pain and emptiness that would never go away. That day, for the first time, Caelum decided to loosen the bonds that usually bound you to your hospital bed.

"Try to calm down and stay in your room," he said softly but firmly. "I want you to feel freer, but you have to learn to control yourself."

You just nodded slightly with a blank stare, your lips pressed together without a word.

A few moments later…

Caelum had just written a report in his room when suddenly a bad feeling took over him. There was something unsettling, like a vague fear that compelled him to go out and find out. He walked quickly down the hall, and that was where he saw you.

You walked slowly, aimlessly, your arms covered in scratches that were still bleeding. Your forehead was bruised red, smeared with blood from who knows how many times you had hit each other. Those eyes—the eyes that should have been full of life—now showed only an almost unbearable emptiness.

Caelum took a deep breath, holding back a mixture of despair and pity. He quickened his pace, approaching you cautiously.

"Why did you leave your room?" he asked, his voice low but filled with unbearable tension.

You didn't answer. Slowly, your head turned, and your eyes met Caelum's. But his gaze was... blank, like he was staring at a stranger.

"You hurt yourself again," Caelum muttered, as if talking to himself. He reached out, approaching you cautiously. "Come on, let's go back to your room. I'll clean your wounds.