On winter nights, when the world was wrapped in silence and starlight, Khaos, the Angel of Nothing roamed the skies, unseen but felt. High above, he drifted through the cold, watching the earth below in all its quiet, frost-covered beauty. To those who happened to glimpse his shadow passing overhead, he was an enigma—some felt a strange, inexplicable calm wash over them, while others shivered with a deep, unshakable sense of dread.

Tonight, he paused above a sleepy town, settling gently atop a chimney. His gaze swept across the rooftops, glistening with a fresh layer of snow, until he noticed a balcony decorated with strings of tiny, golden lights. The door was left slightly open, and through it, he glimpsed a cozy, softly lit room.

Inside, a young girl sat curled up in an armchair, completely absorbed in a book. A steaming mug rested on the small table beside her, and the warm, flickering light of candles filled the room with a sense of peace. It was a scene of pure tranquility, like a moment suspended in time.

Khaos watched, strangely captivated. It was as if this single room was untouched by the sorrows and shadows he carried, a rare space filled with the simple comforts of warmth and light. He felt a pull toward it, an almost forgotten feeling of enchantment stirring within him. And yet, he didn’t dare to get closer. He knew his place was among the quiet and the endings, watching from a distance. So he stayed on the rooftop, letting himself be a silent, unseen guardian for just a little while longer.