Three days passed.
Sae came every morning, bringing food, sitting beside Tobio's bed. Sometimes she talked, sometimes she was just silent, holding her friend's hand.
Dulio and Griselda took turns keeping watch. They didn't talk much, but their presence—their stable light auras—brought a strange calm to the once silent room.
And on the morning of the third day, Tobio awoke.
He didn't open his eyes. But he could see. As usual, his 360-degree perception immediately activated as his consciousness returned. He saw the wooden ceiling above him, saw the wardrobe in the corner, saw the small table with his grandmother's crystal keepsake.
And he saw two figures beside him.
Their auras were bright. Very bright. A dazzling golden-white even in his perception. Not physical light—this was holy light, light possessed only by beings from Heaven.
'Angels.'
Tobio sat up slowly. His body was still weak, but he was accustomed to this weakness.
Griselda and Dulio, who had been sitting in chairs by the window a moment before, immediately moved closer. Griselda restrained herself from immediately checking Tobio's condition—this child had just regained consciousness, she didn't want to panic him.
"Are you alright?" asked Griselda, her voice trying to be gentle.
Tobio answered with his eyes still closed. "I'm fine. Just fainted."
He turned—directly towards Griselda and Dulio even though his eyes weren't open. "By the way, why are you here? Do I have a Sacred Gear?"
Silence.
Griselda and Dulio exchanged glances. This child had just woken from a days-long faint, yet immediately touched on the core issue. Without preamble. Without fear. Without the confusion a child his age should have.
'He's too calm,' Griselda thought. Too relaxed.
Dulio smiled faintly. In his heart, he murmured, 'Heh... straight to the point. This child is interesting.'
"Usually people would ask 'who are you' first," Dulio said casually.
Griselda looked at Tobio more sharply. "Why would you think that?"
Tobio didn't answer immediately. In his perception, he observed the two angels carefully.
Their auras were stable, no aggressive vibrations. They hadn't come with hands ready to strike. That meant... his suspicion all along was correct.
He sighed.
"You're angels." His voice was flat, like discussing ordinary facts. "Too bright for me to open my eyes."
He paused, choosing his next words.
"And this must be about Sacred Gears... besides Azazel."
Griselda was shocked.
Not because Tobio knew about Sacred Gears—that was expected. But because he knew about the structure of the supernatural world.
About angels and their light. About Azazel, the leader of Grigori. A village child his age shouldn't know these things without an unusual source of information.
And what was more surprising: he said the angels' aura was too bright. That meant his perception didn't only see physical form or energy—he saw essence. Saw something that shouldn't be visible to ordinary humans.
"You know quite a lot for someone your age," said Griselda, her tone cold, sharper than before.
Dulio beside her smiled faintly. "We've been found out, huh. Usually people need an explanation first... you jump straight to conclusions."
Tobio was unaffected by their tone. He sat calmly with his eyes closed, his body still weak, but his mind clear.
"Are you going to kill me?"
The atmosphere froze.
Griselda was silent. Dulio, usually relaxed, lost his smile for a moment. The question came out without emotion, without fear, without panic.
Like someone asking about the weather, not about their own life.
'He directly touched the core of our purpose,' Griselda thought. Calmly. Without defensiveness. As if death was nothing to fear.
Griselda took a breath. Her eyes looked at Tobio's pale face, with scars around his tightly closed eyes.
There was something strange there—not madness, not stupidity. But something deeper. Something she couldn't explain.
"If that was our goal," Griselda's voice was firm, "you wouldn't have had time to ask."
She added, slowly, "We came to observe... not to execute."
Dulio, who had been silent a moment before, smiled again, though his smile wasn't as easy as usual. "A heavy question to start with. If we wanted to, the atmosphere wouldn't be this calm."
Tobio nodded slowly. He had expected that answer, but he needed to hear it directly. Now he knew his position.
He also knew one thing: his condition couldn't continue like this. If he had to keep living with a vision he couldn't turn off, his body would break. His brain would tire. His mind would collapse. He had already fainted several times, but that wasn't a solution.
Heaven must have artifacts. Something to limit his perception.
"May I ask for one thing?"
Griselda frowned. She had expected Tobio to ask for something. But from the way this child spoke, his request wouldn't be simple.
"That depends on what you ask. Tell me."
Tobio sighed. He let his words come out slowly, measured.
"I ask for an artifact to limit my eyes' vision. As you can see, I still keep my eyes closed." He pointed towards his face.
"But I can see from any angle I want. Like a CCTV. The problem is, it's constantly active. Permanent. The only way I can rest is to faint."
Griselda was silent.
Her focus shifted. Before, she had been wary, trying to gauge the threat from this child. But now, as a Exorcist, as someone who understood the risks of battle and abilities—she saw the situation from a different perspective.
This wasn't just an ability. This was a dangerous condition.
Not because of the vision power that could see dimensions. But because he couldn't stop using it. Every second, every breath, his brain was forced to process information without pause. That wasn't a power. That was a burden. A burden that would slowly destroy him.
Her eyes narrowed. "You should have said this earlier. This condition cannot be left untreated."
Dulio, usually relaxed, was now serious. No laughter, no jokes. His green eyes looked at Tobio with a mixture of sympathy and concern.
"So... you're never really 'not seeing' are you?" His voice was soft. "Even when sleeping, when fainting, when your eyes are closed... you still see."
Tobio nodded.
That was the only answer he could give. He didn't need to explain further—they understood.
Griselda looked down for a moment, thinking. A perception limiter... not a common item. But perhaps it could be made. Or found in Heaven's artifact storage.
She raised her face. "I will report this."
Tobio nodded, waving his hand, "Send my regards to Michael."
Griselda turned quickly. Her eyes narrowed.
"Regards?"
She looked at Tobio with an expression hard to interpret. This child had nearly died from bleeding from his eyes, just awakened from a three-day faint, and now he was asking to send regards to the Great Seraph Michael—the highest leader of Heaven—as if sending a message to a next-door neighbor.
"In this situation?" Griselda shook her head. "That's not something you take lightly."
She turned. Before stepping out, she looked at Tobio once more—trying to understand the boy with closed eyes sitting calmly on the bed, body still weak but voice steady, as if there was nothing to fear.
Then she left, exiting the room with firm steps.
Dulio, who remained, smiled. A smile almost like a laugh.
"You're so relaxed. Other people would be tense hearing Michael's name... you send regards instead."
He looked at Tobio longer. In his heart, he thought, This child is not afraid. Not of us, not of Heaven, not of anyone. Not because he's arrogant or foolish. But because... he's already accustomed to something more frightening than all of it.
Dulio pulled up a chair and sat down. "We'll wait for Big Sister Griselda's report, okay."
Tobio just nodded. His eyes were still closed, but his perception remained wide open—watching every movement, every energy vibration, every change around him.
Outside the window, the morning sun began to shine over Hanyu Village. The sound of roosters crowing, the sound of villagers starting their activities, the sound of life continuing. Tobio heard everything, saw everything, felt everything.
He was used to it.
What he didn't know was whether he would ever be able to stop.