The Creator Couldn't Hold It In Anymore

A smile to bury all grudges might still not have been enough.

With the empathy taking hold.

The path the two of them were taking had become a little strange.

They might even have been approaching the point of being friends who lay on wooden plank beds together at night.

"Did you know?" That night, Zarathos lay on his wooden plank bed and said to Dormammu in the bed beside him, "I went to see that prison of yours a couple of days ago."

Dormammu turned his head. "How was it?"

"Very gloomy," Zarathos said. "There was a sign at the entrance that said 'God Kingdom Reform Center.' I stood outside and looked at it for ten minutes, and I felt cold all over."

Dormammu gave a bitter smile. "I lived there for three months. Do you know what that felt like?"

Zarathos shook his head.

Dormammu went on, "The lights in there never went out. You didn't know day from night. Meal delivery was the only marker of time. I counted the days by the number of meals—twice a day, sixty times a month, one hundred and eighty times in three months. I still remember it perfectly, even now. One hundred and eighty times."

Zarathos fell silent.

After a while, he said, "Let's share a place."

Dormammu froze. "What?"

"Share a place," Zarathos said. "The two of us rent one room together. We can save half the rent. The points we save can go toward better food, or we can even save them up and reach D-Class sooner."

Dormammu was silent for a moment.

"Do you know what the requirements are for two people to share a place?"

"What?"

"You have to sign a co-renting agreement. You have to submit an application. It has to go through system review.