I Just Wanted to Nap, But They Built Me a Religion

It has only been yesterday since that shocking accident happened.

And this morning, our protagonist Ezrel Dormir woke earlier than usual.

Not because he was refreshed.

Because he couldn't sleep.

Well, for someone who really loves napping and resting, it must mean that the incident shocked him to the core.

The peace that usually gave him strength now pressed against his lungs and made him feel uneasy.

He sat on his bed for a long time, arms draped over his knees, staring at nothing.

Then he stood up.

With a firm decision that has been made.

He walked to his desk.

Then he drew a box.

A long one.

With hinges. And seals. And a label at the bottom that read:

"Soundproof. Sister-proof. Blessed if possible."

Well, it was a device that could help him regain his peace without a problem.

---

After having breakfast. Ezrel asked one of the maids to meet him in secret.

"I want you to find a coffin artisan for me," said Ezrel with great determination.

"Sure....."

That maid replied to Ezrel.

Well, it looks like the young master wants to meditate better.

Maybe he got inspiration about something that can help the world progress.

---

The coffin artisan the maid found arrived by noon.

He was a quiet man with iron spectacles and a ledger stitched from goat hide.

He did not ask questions.

A principal person who only does their task without asking any other questions.

Well....

If he got into the military, surely in Ezrel's previous world, this artisan would get toyed with by all those geezers there.

He really doesn't ask a question.

Not even when the young master of House Dormir handed him a diagram with six annotated locks and velvet interior panels designed to dampen whispers.

To explain his design, Ezrel pointed to the side latch.

"This should can only be open from the inside."

"Understood, my lord," the artisan said.

"And the outside should be inscribed with something holy-looking."

"A sigil???"

"Something confusing. Enough to scare off fanatics."

The artisan blinked.

Then nodded slowly.

"For payment, you can claim it with my parents."..

"Just make sure it was perfect according to my request "....

----

Word about that artisan spread...

Of course.

It always did.

A steward tried to discreetly confirm the measurements.

Lady Dormir simply laughed and said, "Boys at this age build treehouses. Ours just prefers coffins."

Lord Dormir raised his glass. "Let him design what he pleases. At least it means he's planning for the future."

One junior priest attempted to go to an artisan workshop so he could bless the wood while weeping. "A sacred vessel… crafted by his own design…!"

Milia, of course, knew everything.

She watched from the garden wall as the artisan wheeled in samples.

She wrote without blinking.

Log 421 – The Soundless Box

He builds not to flee death.

But to flee devotion.

A tomb not for the body.

But for peace.

He believes it will protect him.

He forgets that threads slip through cracks.

---

That evening...

Ezrel lay on the living room sofa.

The rain had started again.

Not dramatic, just steady.

Soft enough to sound like a lullaby for the tired and the damned.

He'd stretched out sideways, one leg draped over the edge, an arm tucked beneath his head.

The fire had burned low.

His eyes were closed, but not with peace.

Just...

Resignation.

The blueprint wasn't with him.

It was still with the artisan.

He said that Ezrel coffin will take times to be made because there too many order that on progress.

Well..

Just how many people died in this country that he needs time to fulfill my order???

Ezrel hoped it arrived already sealed shut with nails and mercy.

Ezrel inhaled through his nose.

Then let it out slowly, as if releasing everything that had built up in his heart since the bath.

Then he felt it.

The weight in the air.

That very specific kind of quiet..

The kind that meant she was near.

He opened one eye.

And there she was.

Lysette stood a few paces from the couch.

Hands clasped neatly in front of her dress.

With a posture that is too perfect for someone her age.

She didn't speak.

She didn't smile.

She didn't ask what he was doing.

She just watched.

Ezrel blinked once..

Then rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

He didn't have the energy to scold her.

He didn't have the heart to beg.

So he thought, for the first time this week.

Please let that coffin arrive soon.

Let it be sealed and silent and lined in velvet that no even a single thing can reach.

Let it be mine, and mine alone.

He closed his eyes again.

And Lysette never left.

Just watching him silently...

---