Chapter Text
Welt was teaching Caelus how to drive a car in order to prepare him for his up and coming driver's license exam.
"You see a child and an old man in the road coming towards you, what do you do you hit?" Welt asks.
"Well. I would hit the old man? Because the kid has his whole life ahead of him, so I would hit the old man, right?" Caelus answered.
Silence.
Actual, physical, spiritual silence.
Even the train somehow stopped humming.
Dan Heng slowly lowered his book.
March’s jaw dropped to her knees.
Himeko froze mid-sip like someone pressed pause on her animation.
Pom-Pom fainted in the hallway.
And Welt…
Welt Yang blinked exactly once, like he was rebooting.
“…Caelus…” Welt said, voice dangerously calm. “Why would you… hit anyone?”
Caelus blinked. “I mean… that’s the question, right? You said who do I hit, not whether or not I hit.”
March covered her face. “OH MY GOD HE’S TAKING IT LITERALLY AGAIN.”
Dan Heng massaged his temples. “Caelus. It’s a moral dilemma. You’re not supposed to actually commit vehicular homicide.”
“Oh!” Caelus snapped his fingers in realization.
“So the right answer is both. Hit neither.”
Welt exhaled in relief.
Caelus continued:
Instead, I hit the car’s brakes. Right?”
“Yes,” Welt said, finally calming—
“Or,” Caelus said, brightening, “I swerve, crash into a building instead, explode dramatically, and then walk out of the wreckage cool as hell.”
Welt’s soul left his body.
March whispered, “He’s not passing the exam.”
Himeko sipped her coffee. “No, but the cinematic potential is incredible.”
Dan Heng looked Himmelward. “Why am I responsible for this man…”
March threw a pillow at him. "Stop giving Mr. Yang trouble and take this seriously!"
"I am taking this seriously!" Caelus retorted.
"I doubt that." Sunday bluntly said.
"Please." Himeko added, her eyes rolling.
"I find that hard to believe." Dan Heng said, arms crossing.
"Yeah right!" March replied.
Caelus looked around the room at the wall of judgment closing in on him, arms crossed like a kid being scolded by five different parents at once.
He pointed at March first. “Hey! I am taking this seriously! I literally answered the question!”
“You answered it like a sociopath,” March snapped, tossing another pillow at him.
Caelus caught it, barely.
Sunday leaned back with a sigh, arms folded. “I’ve seen fools, I’ve seen incompetents, I’ve even seen people who tried to take a math exam using interpretive dance. But you-” he gestured at Caelus, “-are something else entirely.”
“Thanks?” Caelus said, unsure if that was an insult or a diagnosis.
Himeko pinched the bridge of her nose. “Caelus, sweetheart… taking a moral dilemma literally is not the same as taking it seriously.”
Dan Heng didn’t even look up. “Statistically, he will fail.”
“Hey!” Caelus barked.
“Statistically,” Dan Heng repeated.
Pom-Pom peeked around the corner, still traumatized. “Caelus… please don’t run over the crew…”
Caelus threw his hands up dramatically.
“I’m trying, okay?! But you’re asking these trick questions! Bro thinks he’s the Destruction but he’s actually the SAT!”
Welt exhaled the sigh of a man who aged twenty years.
“Caelus. Listen carefully. There is one correct answer.”
Caelus straightened, serious for exactly three seconds. “Hit neither, brake immediately, check surroundings, prevent harm.”
Welt nodded, relieved. “Good.”
Caelus paused.
“And if THAT fails—”
“NO!”
The entire express shouted in unison.
March yeeted another pillow at his face.