"How do you know that name?" he demanded, his voice loud and sharp.
The force of it made Atama flinch, his heart racing. For a moment, the air between them felt heavy, dangerous.
Oh no… Atama thought, panic rising. Is her name forbidden? Did I say something wrong? I have to say something—quick.
He stammered, "Oh—I heard it from an old woman at the grocery store, but I didn't ask that much, just a tiny amount, I was skeptical."
Shaun grabs Atama's shoulder, holding on too tightly.
"Who is she, Atama? Tell me!" His eyes were burning with urgency as he demanded
Atama froze, his nerves tingling with fear. The power of his father and his voice is overwhelming.
Atama stumbled, "I—I don't know. All I know is that she's from Solaris Seeker. I promise. That's all."
"What…? How did you come across a Solaris believer?" he demanded, "They're dangerous people."
Shaun gazed at Atama's; his eyes were frightened, realizing that his son's fear was caused by how he behaved. He loosened his grip completely.
"I'm sorry, Atama, I should not say it like that."
Shaun took a step back, eyes still locked on Atama.
"Why did you lie about knowing Viona?" he asked, his voice low but intense. "I know that cult—Solaris Seeker—they fear her."
He paused
"So why would one of them tell you about her? Answer me, Atama."
Atama's eyes were frantically going everywhere, not knowing or wanting to say the truth.
I don't know… If I tell him the truth, will it make things worse? Will he even believe me?
His mouth opened slightly, but no words came.
I don't want to lie, but something within me warned that this truth might change everything. Do I say it? No… but if I don't, there might be a chance of a worse stake gonna happened in the future, and I have to take that consequence.
"It's ok, Atama, if you don't want to say it, it's alright."
I have to settle this… I will end this revelation.
"Father, back when I was still lying in bed, where a monster [dyviak] struck me,"
He paused, struggling to find the right words.
"There was also… something else. A spirit? I don't know what exactly…"
He took a breath, forcing himself to speak clearly.
"Basically… there was this light blue deer. It appeared when I was on the brink of death. It… protected me and said to find Viona and someone else. I don't know who."
"Do you perhaps know that creature's father?"
Shaun looked bitterly at the distance, trying to search for an answer, but no answer had come to the surface.
"I don't know," he paused
Then his tone shifted—he looked upward, as if feeling something change in the very air.
"Atama… I will tell you the basics of this world. There are seven worlds that are known throughout history. Past, present, and future in Cisealta all will be and always be a seven world."
The sky above darkened as he spoke, clouds encroaching like silent watchers. Atama felt a presence that went beyond the physical, and his heart raced.
"But soon a new one will emerge, perhaps for a moment, perhaps forever."
Atama Father gazed upon the sky, looking at the clouds.
"And seemingly, the deity gazed upon us, so I had to say the safe word just in case."
Shaun then continued what he wanted to say.
"Within these seven worlds, there is our world, Earth, where human society lives, and while the ceiling is called Anapados, as you might know already, it's a place where we and others could stay on that place alongside the race of Soejell."
Turned his head toward Atama.
"But when you flip the other side, only chaos and malaise, only you could find, so take this seriously. Don't go deeper into Anapados. And I mean it—literally. Don't dive."
"Asetra is the next layer in Cisealta," his father explained while carefully saying it.
"So in this world, it's basically where all spirits go…"
"No matter human, Soejell, animal, that place where we will be waiting for whatever comes after."
Intrigued by his father, drawn in by the words of his father. A place where everyone waits after death.
If there is such a place… that means I could talk to him, communicate with Amias, and look for an answer, asking why he decided to jump. Atama thought.
Shaun continued,
"The next one... It's just space. We don't really know what it is—no one has ever been there. All we can see is the flow of energy drifting through it... like threads of light passing between realms. And sometimes, if you look closely, you'll catch glimpses of something else—like cracked glass opening between the spaces and dimensions."
"and the last upper layer is heaven, where deities live their most leisurly," Shaun's eyes were far away now, intent but from the clouds.
"And the down one there was two, the first is [the one below] and the last of the bottom—"
"Hey, you two! Food's ready!" Atama's mother called from outside the house, her voice carrying warmth and familiarity.
"Alright, kiddo. That's enough for today," Shaun said with a gentle smile. "We'll talk more later, alright?"
* * *
In the kitchen, as the sun sank low and bathed the room in amber light, Atama sat silently with his family while his parents talked; their voices could not reach his mind.
His mind was elsewhere. Convulsing with everything he had learned today. Layered worlds. Spirits. Deities. A place beyond the sky.
Anapados—the ceiling world above the earth. A realm where answers might finally surface. That's where I need to go. To Anapados.
To find Viona.To uncover the voice that called to me in dreamsand maybe… just maybe… to find Amias.
If his spirit is still out there… if he's waiting in some forgotten corner of that world…
Atama's fists clenched under the table.
Then I'll find him. I'll ask him why. I need to understand.
For now, he remains silent. But then there is still a piece of truth inside him waiting to be uncovered. There's something within him wanting to be expressed for a long time.
I hated this place. I want to be free, I want my days to go back like they used to be. I want to roam the world.
But again, what will happen? If I leave them behind and never come back
Atama gazed at his father, and Shaun turned to meet his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Shaun asked gently.
"I want to explore the upper world," Atama said, his voice calm but resolute.
Both his father and mother froze. They were flabbergasted
The room fell silent.
His mother blinked. Shaun's brows knit together.
Then, all at once, the quiet broke.
"What did you just say?" his mother asked sharply, her tone rising. "Atama, you don't know what you're talking about."
"I do… and I know what I'm saying is like a selfish person." Atama insisted, "I've been thinking about it—everything, so please…"
Atama's eyes locked onto Shaun's, searching for a flicker of understanding—or permission. But Shaun didn't speak. His jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists at his sides.
"Atama," his mother said, stepping forward, her voice trembling now, no longer sharp but pleading, "You're still recovering. You don't know what's out there. That world... It's not meant for people like us, and I don't want you to lose yourself."
Atama shook his head. "But it is meant for me. I've seen it. I've been there—I felt it. It's calling me."
Shaun finally broke his silence. "You don't understand what you're asking for." His voice was low, almost a growl, but beneath it was fear, barely concealed. "The upper world isn't a fantasy. It's dangerous. It took people I loved, people stronger than me. If you go there…" He paused, his voice faltering. "I might lose you, too."
Shaun's face hardened. "I wanted you to live in peace. Because I hoped—prayed—that you'd never have to carry that burden. That you'd be free of it."
"But I'm not free!" Atama snapped, his voice rising. "You think pretending the ceiling world isn't real will protect me? It won't. It's already here—inside me. I can't run from it, and neither can you."
Then, in rage, Atama leaves and goes to his room, locking himself up
His mother's eyes welled with tears. "Please, Atama… you're our only son. Don't throw your life away chasing something you don't understand."
In the room, Atama stood silent behind the door.
Gaze upward to the decaying fungus that's slowly shrinking.
"I guess I have to sleep on the floor now."
He dragged the thin mattress down, spreading it on the cold floorboards. His mind wandered—beyond the arguments, beyond the unease—to the one thing that mattered: tomorrow. Every detail spun through his mind. What to pack. Which path to take? How to avoid being stopped. The faces of those he might need to find.
Tomorrow wasn't just another day. It was the first step.
And once he took it, there would be no turning back.