The classroom

Chapter six: A World of His Own

Caelum grinned.

Not a small one but a wide exaggerated smile, his expression wide-eyed.

'holy shit this is happening.'

The rise and fall of his chest, the warm sunlight touching his skin, the way the wooden desk pressed against his palms—it all felt too real.

He was inside his own drawing.

If it was him from the past, that fact alone should've sent him into a full existential crisis, but honestly? it was already too damn late for him to feel anything wrong.

He ran his hand across the desk beside him, fingers skimming over the wood. It was smooth but not perfect—there were tiny ridges, faint carvings where bored students had once pressed their pencils too hard.

He hadn't drawn those, They just existed.

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "You've got to be kidding me."

The quill had filled in the gaps. It had taken the idea of his classroom and made it more real. And he was inside it.

He felt a shiver up his spine, but not from fear.

Caelum was feeling uncontrolled Excitement. A pure and unfiltered thrill was building up inside him.

He took a deep breath, letting the air settle in his lungs. It even smelled right. Wood, old chalk dust, the faintest lingering scent of paper.

He dragged a chair out and sat down, gripping the desk's edges. The wood pressed against his palms, firm and warm from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

Sunlight. His gaze snapped to the windows.

The golden light poured in, stretching across the floor like it had done back then, catching in the tiny specks of dust floating lazily in the air.

"Alright, that's insane," he muttered. "I drew light? How does that even work?"

Caelum quickly stood up again, nearly knocking the chair back as he strode toward the window. His lips pressed together as he took a slow step forward. The sound of his shoe against the floor was too clear in the silence.

The closer he got, more the details were sharpened—little streaks where the glass wasn't perfectly clean, the faintest distortions in the reflection.

He reached out and touched it. Then gave it a light knock, half-expecting his hand to pass through it. Instead, his knuckles met resistance. "It's Cold."

His heart felt warm in the best possible way. "This is real," he whispered.

Then, holding his breath, he leaned forward and looked outside through the open window. But as he did his eyes widened.

"What the hell-?" Caelum nearly recoiled back, when he peered out it was nothing.

Not a city, Not a school building It was just literally nothing

Nothing but vast, endless white stretching beyond the window, swallowing everything in an infinite void.

His fingers tapped against the window frame. "Well. That's mildly terrifying but, Should've seen that coming." "

He hadn't drawn anything beyond this room, so it made sense that nothing existed past the glass. But seeing it—seeing the absolute void waiting just beyond this space—sent a strange chill through him.

it was as if the world outside crumbled into an empty nothingness.

He tapped his fingers against the window frame then turned around, slowly walking to the front of the classroom, caelum paused in front of the chalkboard. The faint scent of dust lingered in the air, nostalgic in a way he hadn't expected.

A single piece of chalk rested on the ledge beneath it. He reached for it, rolling it between his fingers.

"Would it work? Only one way to find out." He lifted his hand and, with a deliberate motion, wrote a word.

"Classroom 1-A" The chalk left a clear, smooth line across the board without any resistance.

His breath caught slightly.

"i can definitely interact with the things here."

Caelum's expression tightened his mind already racing.

'What would happen if i added something outside? Trees? A hallway? Maybe the entire school?'

"I could, No not could. I will....but the problem is the willpower needed" caelum knew very well much of a stretch it was, to even think about making an entire school.

His eyes darted back to the classroom, scanning every inch of it again. "Only making this much knocked me out."

"Considering i grew a lot compared to when i got the quill.." he was far from being able to do something bigger with his current capacity.

His gaze landed on every inch of the classroom the desks, the board, the sunlight, the lingering sense of a moment frozen in time.

'I have done this. Not some higher power or fate'

Taking a deep breath again caelum smiled widely. "If i can build this…Then there was no telling what i could create next."

----------

----

Caelum circled around the classroom slowly ,letting his fingers brush against the familiar desks as he made his way around the classroom.

The wood beneath his fingertips felt warm, the golden glow of evening sunlight stretched long across the floor.

"the time here seems frozen in this moment."

That fact felt impossible but."who am i kidding? I'm inside a dam painting."

His footsteps echoed softly in the quiet space as he moved along the rows, taking in the details he had drawn—details that had somehow become real.

The blackboard stood untouched, its surface slightly faded from years of erased lessons. The old-crazy teacher's desk, still neat and organized, had the same scratches on its edges that he remembered from when he had sat in this room years ago.

He paused, turning to glance outside again and sighed. "Ah. I really need to do something about that."

But as he took another step forward, his heart started feeling heavier, pulling at his thoughts, dragging his mind back to a distant past.

---

The classroom had been alive with noise.

The steady hum of murmured conversations, the occasional scrape of a chair against the floor, the rhythmic voice of the teacher at the front of the room. The scent of fresh ink, the sound of a pen tapping against a desk, the faint breeze filtering through the open window.

Caelum sat near the back, elbow propped against the wooden surface, chin resting in his hand.

He was supposed to be listening, He wasn't the type to.

Instead, his gaze drifted toward the world beyond the window. The sky outside was a soft shade of blue, shifting toward the warmth of late afternoon. Trees swayed gently, their leaves rustling in the wind.

It was peaceful.

"Pat."

A small hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him back to reality.

He turned, blinking, only to be met with a familiar sight.

Black hair. Sharp, teasing eyes. A gentle smile that managed to be both cute and full of mischief at the same time.

Aruey. His only friend.

"Spacing out again? Nice nice " she asked. "You know the teacher's gonna call on your ass eventually, right?"

Caelum sighed, leaning further into his hand. "I'll deal with it when it happens."

Aruey made a funny face. "Wow. Such dedication to laziness."

He closed his eyes. "I fail to see how knowing what year some dead guy wrote a book is going to help me in life."

She hummed, tilting her head. "That's true. But still, you could at least try to look like you're paying attention."

"I was paying attention," he said, dragging out the words. "Just… to something else."

Her smirk widened. "Oh i know i know, The clouds right?"

"They're more interesting and free than whatever's on the board."

She shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "maybe your name should be cloudlum, not caelum."

Before he could respond, the teacher's voice rang through the room.

"Caelum."

He froze.

Slowly, he turned his head forward, only to find the entire classroom staring at him.

The teacher looked unimpressed. "Since you seem so deep in thought, why don't you answer the question?"

Caelum opened his mouth. Then closed it.

Aruey muffled a laugh behind her hand.

Yeah. He was screwed.

---

The memory snapped like a thread, and Caelum found himself standing in the present once more, his hand pressed against his forehead.

He let out a breath. "I wonder where she is now."

His voice was quiet in the empty classroom, but the words felt heavier than they should.

He hadn't thought about Aruey in a long time.

She had always been too smart for school, coasting through everything effortlessly. She had never needed to try harder.

"She's probably settled by now," he muttered. "Wouldn't surprise me if she's ridiculously successful."

Not that he had ever doubted it. 'With her natural talent, she would've made it in life even if she hadn't tried.'

He sighed, shaking his head, pushing the thoughts away. "No use thinking about the past."

Because right now, he had something else to focus on. His gaze shifted toward the door.

The entrance to the hallway, at least, it should have been. But He hadn't drawn what was beyond it.

Which meant there was nothing outside.

A slow smile crept onto his lips."Guess it's time to change that."

----

--

Caelum stood before the door, his fingers hovering just above the handle.

His heart beat steadily in his chest, but there was a strange weight in his stomach. This was going to be different from drawing objects or even the classroom itself from outside.

He exhaled through his nose."Well, no point just standing here."

With a firm push, he swung the door open.

And was immediately met with a white, endless nothingness.

A blank void stretched infinitely in all directions, swallowing the space where the hallway should have been. No walls, no floor, no ceiling—just emptiness.

Caelum clicked his tongue. "Kinda eerie."

It wasn't surprising. He hadn't drawn anything beyond the classroom, so of course nothing existed.

Which meant that if he wanted a hallway… "i had to create it."

His eyebrows twitched at his thoughts. Normally, he'd reach for the quill, but the quill wasn't with him inside the painting.

"I don't even know if it's possible to bring it here." Suddenly a thought lingered in his mind—"I'm already inside the painting, and this is my world. Would I be able to manipulate it directly?"

The idea sent a thrill through his veins. If he could shape this world without needing the quill physically in his hands, it would mean his connection to his creations was even deeper than he thought, and there was Only one way to find out.

He stepped closer to the void, raising a hand in the direction of the endless void.

"Alright, let's see if this works."

Closing his eyes, he dug into his memories.

The corridor outside his old classroom—he had walked through it countless times. He could picture the faded tile floors, the long stretch of lockers lining the walls, the classroom doors spaced at even intervals. The soft hum of the overhead lights. The faint scuff marks near the edges where years of footsteps had worn the surface smoothly.

He knew this place well enough from years. Now, he just had to bring it into existence.

He took a slow, steady breath. And poured his willpower into the thought.

Immediately, he felt a pull.

A sharp pull—like something deep inside him had latched onto the idea and was taking. It was familiar at first but, slowly the pull became stronger and different.

'When i used the quill in the real world, the drain was gradual, creeping. Here, inside the painting, it is ripping through me.'

His jaw clenched but He pushed forward anyway.

The weight in his chest grew heavier, his limbs tensing as if something unseen was pressing down on him. The more details he forced into existence, the stronger the pull became.

The walls.

The lockers.

The faint flickering of a dying lightbulb.

He felt them forming in his mind, felt them pressing into reality. And with every passing second, he felt his strength bleeding out faster.

" Ah Shit—"

A sharp, sudden pain flared behind his eyes.

His breath hitched, His knees nearly buckled.

"Does using willpower inside the painting drain faster? or is it because I'm not using the quill here?" he muttered through gritted teeth.

His pulse pounded in his ears. The sensation was overwhelming, crushing. He could barely think, barely hold on as his body screamed at him to stop.

"At this rate, I'll...ugh—I'll be out inside the painting."

And that scared him.

Because he had no idea what would happen if he passed out here. Would he wake up in his real body? Or would he be trapped?

His fingers trembled. His vision darkened at the edges.

But then—The pull stopped and The weight lifted.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he forced his eyes open.

The white void was slowly being erased.

And in its place A hallway was taking shape.

The tiles stretched before him, reflecting the dim overhead lights. The lockers stood in neat rows, their dull metal surfaces cool and untouched. The air smelled of old books and faint cleaning chemicals, just like it had back then.

Exactly as he had envisioned it.

Caelum exhaled a shaky breath, running a hand over his face.

He felt drained. His body ached, his fingers trembled, and the cold sweat clinging to his back made his shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin.

"I did it."

He had expanded the world, His lips curled into a slow, tired grin.

"Now this is quite-huf. Quite an achievement."

Caelum fell on the floor with his back, taking in breath as if an asthma patient.