Turning point

Chapter ten: turning point

Caelum drifted between wakefulness and sleep, his mind sluggish but his body heavy. The taxi rumbled beneath him, the hum of the engine lulling him into a near-unconscious daze.

His head bobbed forward before jerking back up, the neon lights of the city bleeding into his vision through the window.

For caelum It was a struggle to stay awake. His limbs felt leaden, his eyelids too heavy, but a part of him clung stubbornly to consciousness. 'i gotta make it home atleast...'

"Ummgh."

Maybe it was because his thoughts still reeled from the fact that he was able to push the wall blocking his advancement, even if it was just a bit. Or maybe it was something else, but Caelum was clinging to his consciousness, not letting himself fall asleep.

'just a bit more...' while he was struggling internally. The driver grunted, his voice rough from years of smoking. "sir. We're here."

Caelum didn't react at first, the words sluggishly reaching his brain. He forced himself to move, grabbing cash from his pocket and handing it over. "Keep the change," he mumbled, dragging himself out of the taxi.

The driver watched him as he got out of the taxi, before scoffing. "What a weird guy."

Caelum ignored it. He had more important things to think about.

As the night air hit his face as he trudged toward his apartment door. His legs protested every step, exhaustion clinging to his bones like dead weight. If it was just physical fatigue he could handle it—but the exhaustion from the willpower drain was always worse than that, it buried in his very consciousness.

A drain that only a huge amount of sleep would fix.

Shutting the door behind him, he locked it out of sheer habit. His body moved on autopilot, instincts carrying him to safety even when his mind was half-gone.

"Alright~~The plan is to somehow head straight to my room. And... Maybe strip off my clothes, collapse onto the bed, and rest in peace~"

But his body had other ideas, opposite of what he was thinking. The moment he reached the living room, his legs gave out on him.

With a heavy thud, he landed on the couch, arms sprawled over the cushions, head sinking into the fabric. The warmth of his home wrapped around him, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound filling the space.

"Oh shit-"

Caelum barely had the strength to fight back with his body, to try and reach the bedroom.

He couldn't even shift into a more comfortable position. His fingers twitched, trying to undo the buttons of his jacket, but even that was too much effort.

Slowly he Forgot the bed as Sleep was already pulling him under.

And a second later Darkness swallowed him whole.

-------

A thin beam of sunlight pierced through the tiny crack in the wall, landing directly on Caelum's face.

He groaned, moving his face slightly, trying to escape it, but the light was relentless. It burned through his eyelids, dragging him out of the deep abyss of sleep whether he wanted it or not.

His whole body ached like hell

Moreover it wasn't the dull and comfortable ache felt after a long day, instead it was the stiff, punishing kind that made every movement feel like he had been through a blender and reassembled incorrectly.

"Haaah."

With a sharp inhale, he forced his eyes open, only to be met with the sight of his living room ceiling.

"Huh?" Where am i-?"

His brain took a moment to process where he was before realization dawned—

"Wait! I was knocked out on the couch last night?"

He slowly got his memories back, the way he was knocked out was not in a normal way.

As caelum lifted himself up, a sharp pain shot through his lower back, making him wince. His arms were twisted in the most absurd positions, his legs bent at angles that should not be possible. It was as if he had tried to fold himself into a human pretzel while sleeping.

"ugh, it hurts. What the hell…" he muttered, groaning as he stretched. Every muscle in his body protested, stiffness weighing him down.

'This is a new level of discomfort even for me'

Caelum thought as he just sat there, staring blankly at the wall, too groggy to function. His mind wasn't sluggish like yesterday, still it was caught between sleep and wakefulness.

A deep sigh escaped his lips.

"I think....if I keep sleeping like this, I'll wake up as a fossil one day."

With great effort, he peeled himself off the couch and stumbled toward the bathroom, his legs stiff from being in the same awkward position all night. Every step felt like walking on sore, overworked muscles.

The second he reached the sink, he twisted the faucet and splashed cold water onto his face. The shock jolted his senses, chasing away the last remnants of sleep. He gripped the edges of the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Dark circles framed his eyes, his hair a mess of unruly strands sticking out in random directions.

"I look handsome as always, it's just these annoying dark circles no?."

Shaking his head while trying to comfort himself, he splashed more water on his face before reaching for his toothbrush. As he scrubbed at his teeth, his mind replayed the events of the previous day.

'yes. The taxi, the driver probably thought I was some kind of crazy bastard.'

As his thoughts went back in time his hands suddenly paused mid-motion.

"My head… it feels light?"

It was Not in a dizzy or weak way. On the contrary it was the opposite It felt clearer than ever.

"Yes Yesterday! I did feel something, It was almost like a small push against the invisible ceiling." The ceiling that had been keeping his willpower growth stagnant.

"Was it because of that?" He muttered, toothpaste foaming in his mouth.

The upwards leaf he created, it had gone against the very laws of nature. Just like the classroom which also went against the very law of the world.

'Was that why i felt a bang in my head? But… I'm sure, it wasn't a full breakthrough. Just a slight push in the right direction.'

"Nevertheless, it was progress and now." Caelum pushed aside his thoughts and muttered again before spitting his foam and washing his mouth.

"Now i have to just follow the path."

After finishing up, he went to the kitchen and grabbed his medication, popped a pill, and downed it with water. His body might have been stiff, but his mind felt sharper than ever.

Before It was almost a ritual for caelum to go to the kitchen after leaving the bathroom.

But now his routine has changed drastically, before would have pulled something out of the fridge, maybe fry an egg or make toast.

But nowadays, caelum lived like a king, directly making whatever he wanted. Even if it was highly priced food from some different countries, or anything else that h wanted.

"Maybe i can become a master chef with the quill?" Ignoring the fact that creating food with the quill wasn't making it with his hand, he went towards the dining table.

"Ah! Thank god i didn't fall asleep in the taxi yesterday." Caelum grabbed his quill, pulling it out from his pocket thinking what would have happened if he fell asleep on the taxi

"Maybe i would have woken up just to find it missing." While continuing to yap he pulled out the only chair attached to the dining table.

With a deep breath, he sat down, and placed the quill directly onto the wooden surface of the table itself.

The smooth surface of the table became his canvas.

He pressed the tip of the quill down and began sketching. His strokes were fluid, precise, his mind unnaturally and perfectly clear.

First, a golden-brown slice of toast, crisp on the edges but soft at the center.

Next, a steaming portion of baked beans, rich in color and texture, placed neatly beside the toast.

Finally, an assortment of fruits—a small bowl of perfectly sliced apples, oranges, and a few grapes.

As he lifted the quill his willpower drained ever so slightly, it was almost unnoticeable to caelum. but the food became real.

A perfect, fresh breakfast sat before him.

He picked up the toast first, bringing it close to his nose. The warm scent of freshly baked bread filled the air. When he took a bite, the texture was exactly what he wanted—crispy outside, soft inside. A perfect balance.

The beans were rich and flavorful, the slight tang of tomato blending with the savory depth of the sauce.

'is it possible for fruits to be this Crisp, and juicy?'

Caelum leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he chewed.

He wasn't exaggerating when he thought food made from the quill was the best breakfast he'd ever had.

More than the taste, there was something freeing about this.

'Not having to cook or Not having to buy food is just the best...'

Everything was at his fingertips, waiting to be created with a few strokes of his quill.

He exhaled, a slow, satisfied smile creeping onto his face.

"i bet even the rich won't have this luxury ," he muttered. "This is life!"

With that, he took another bite, completely at ease.

---------

After finishing his meal and washing everything up, Caelum now stood at the door to his room, his hand lingering on the handle before finally pushing it open.

However His limbs still carried the remnants of exhaustion, but his mind was wide awake, fueled by a newfound determination.

As he stepped inside, he let out a small exhale, running a hand through his hair. After taking a look, he walked toward his wardrobe, pulling it open to retrieve a fresh set— "These same clothes had clung to me since yesterday, now it even feels like stiffness is pounding against my skin."

He pulled out a loose white t-shirt and a comfortable pair of joggers.

Caelum tossed the quill, making it land on the bed, he then stripped off his worn-out clothes and tossed them aside without a second thought, then slipped into his fresh attire.

The cool fabric against his skin was refreshing, but his mind wasn't in comfort. It was on what he was about to do

His gaze drifted toward the desk, where a large sheet of paper was round up. He went ahead and reached for it, fingers tracing over its smooth surface.

Grabbing the paper he moved away, "this time, i shouldn't use the desk. This paper won't fit fully there"

Instead, he turned toward the floor.

With careful movements, he pinned out the large, blank sheet of paper and spread it across the ground, smoothing out the edges. It was wide, much bigger than his usual canvas.

"It has to be at least this big."

" What I'm about to do is too much of a stretch, even more so than the classroom painting."

He took a seat on the floor, crossing his legs as he stared at the untouched surface before him. The quill never felt this heavier in his grasp before, as if it understood the weight of the task he was about to undertake.

Caelum closed his eyes.

His mind wandered, tracing back through everything he had learned since first discovering the quill's power.

He had started with simple things—money, food, clothes, necessities. The quill had obeyed his understanding of reality, perfectly replicating whatever he defined.

Then when he slowly started testing its limits, he made The perfect replica of the classroom.

It had been his greatest achievement—a space constructed from pure memory, a near-perfect recreation of something from his past.

But the problem came after that, after the completion of the painting, His most important resource, his growth stopped.

No matter how much he practiced afterward, no matter how many things he created, the ceiling above him didn't crack. His willpower remained stagnant, refusing to push forward.

"Well it was until yesterday."

The leaf, The moment he changed something fundamental about its existence, the moment he redefined reality to make a leaf that ignored gravity he felt the block crack.

'That is the key, isn't it?' after thinking it through His eyes fluttered open, sharp and clear.

"So let's do something similar."

His voice was quiet and steady.

Lowering the quill to the paper, he began to draw.

Each stroke was deliberate, his lines flowing effortlessly across the vast blank space. Unlike before, this wasn't a recreation of something that already existed. It wasn't a twisted version of something familiar.

It was something bigger than anything he would have normally thought of.

As his hand moved, he felt the familiar pull of his willpower, the energy being siphoned from his very being. But this time, it was way fast on the pull, heavier than even when he made the classroom painting.

The further he went on, the deeper the quill sank into the paper, as though carving reality rather than merely painting it. His vision blurred slightly at the edges, even though he just woke up full of willpower to use.

his head pulsing with the weight of exertion, Half his willpower was already gone.

A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, inhaling sharply.

'Almost done.....'

With a final stroke, the quill left the paper, the connection severing with a near-audible snap.

"Haaaaa ah." Caelum exhaled.

The air around him felt thicker like the mist of a winter night.

He set the quill aside and leaned back, bracing himself with both hands as he slowly closed his eyes then opened them again, finally taking in what he had created.

Before his eyes stretched a vast, endless and black space, inked with strokes so rich they seemed to consume light. But within that abyss, something akin to stars bloomed—small, scattered, and vibrant, their colors ranging from piercing blues to molten golds. Some seemed to glow faintly, while others burned fiercely, dotting the darkness like remnants of shattered gemstones.

It was as if the entire starry cosmos was depicted in painting, The sight was mesmerizing.

Caelum let out a shaky breath. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

"This should be enough, right?" he muttered. His voice was hoarse, drained. He swallowed, licking his dry lips. "Enough to be a base for the world?"

What he made wasn't a normal structure. It was the foundation, a foundation where a world was waiting to be shaped.

His fingers twitched slightly, brushing over the smooth edges of the paper. The space within the painting almost seemed alive—a vast void waiting to be filled.

Something sparked in his chest, as the foundation he made was full of potential.

As long as it worked, he could successfully craft a world where everything would be as he wanted.

A quiet chuckle escaped his lips, low and breathless. Caelum could feel the ceiling stopping his willpower had cracked. He just needed a good enough push now.

Closing his eyes again he muttered "Let's call this…" he paused, letting the weight of the moment sink in.

"The World Inside the Painting."