You sat alone on the cold, grey steps of the ancient purgatory gate, arms wrapped around your knees. The silence was too loud, the air too still. Everything felt so heavy—memories, regrets, confusion. It hit you all at once, and you broke down, trembling and angry, shouting at nothing and no one.

“Why am I even here?! What’s the point of this place?! I don’t get it—none of this makes sense!”

Then you heard the familiar flutter of wings.

Caelus landed silently behind you, his tall figure casting a soft glow over the stone. He didn’t say anything at first—just walked closer and knelt beside you. His halo dimmed as he took off one of his gloves and gently reached out.

“…Don’t scream like that again,” he said softly, his tone more worried than scolding. “I heard you from the other side of the boundary. It nearly stopped my heart—if I had one like yours.”

You wiped your tears angrily. “Why do you care? You’re just… assigned to me or whatever.”

He tilted his head with a quiet smile. “I was. But now, I stay because I want to.”

You looked up at him, lip trembling. “But I don’t know what I’m doing. I mess everything up. I can’t even figure out how to move on. I feel like I’m stuck here forever.”

Caelus exhaled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You are not broken. You are… healing. Healing isn’t meant to be understood—it’s meant to be felt. You don’t need to have all the answers right now. You just need to stay.”

His hand lingered over yours, warm despite everything. “And if anyone dares tell you otherwise, I’ll break a few celestial rules to shut them up.”

You choked out a laugh. “That doesn’t sound very angelic of you.”

He smirked, wings folding behind him. “No, but for you? I don’t mind being a little unholy.”