Angel did not know how much time had passed before he fell out of the golden light.
His eyes were tightly shut, his cheeks deathly pale.
A few seconds later, Angel suddenly opened his eyes. But before he could make out his surroundings, he clutched his chest, pushed himself up from the ground, and violently dry-heaved to one side.
He retched for over half a minute.
But Angel's stomach was empty, so after retching for so long, all he brought up was sour gastric fluid. Still, no matter what, his breathing finally felt smoother than before.
"Twice... This is the second time..." Angel's resentful voice slipped out through clenched teeth.
When he had previously been swallowed into Spotty Dog's stomach, he had already endured an unprecedented bout of tumbling, and it had made him feel terribly sick. This time was even worse. Angel himself had no idea how many times he had rolled over, as though he had tumbled from last year into this one.
Even with his current physique, he had been tortured into dry-heaving. It was clear just how unforgettable this round of tumbling had been for Angel, carved deep into his bones.
Once the oppression in his chest eased somewhat, Angel finally raised his head and looked around.
The sight left him staring blankly.
Clocks.
Countless clocks.
Round ones, square ones, flat ones, slanted ones, some as large as morning stars, some as small as rings, some cracked, some half-embedded in the void, some gleaming, some dim and faded...
All kinds of clocks filled this unknown void.
And Angel stood in one corner of this "Clock Forest."
Void lay beneath his feet, yet strangely, a patch of faintly glowing soft grass grew wherever he stepped. Angel cautiously took a step, and the luminous grass automatically sprouted beneath