Jongin winces at the sound of metal kissing metal in a shower of sparks. Even though the sound can’t hurt his eardrums in any way—which is perfectly logical, considering his eardrums are not strictly physical—the sound is nevertheless grating, a high, screeching noise that seems to go on forever despite actually only lasting a few seconds.

He turns around, only vaguely aware of the scores of people rushing by—and through—his body to see what happened. Within seconds, the crash site is surrounded with throngs of people, some who instantly took out their phones to film, he notes with disgust. He’s barely able to see through the crowd, but that’s the benefit of being a life god—he can simply glide through the people, uncaring of their physical bodies. The bodies are so insignificant to him they might as well be air.

The crash is horrific, as they all are, but this one seems particularly harrowing because of the tiny broken body trapped in the back seat of one of the cars. There are three other bodies, two in the same car and one in the other, but their fire has completely gone out, and no amount of oil Jongin adds to their lamps will bring them back to life. Already their souls are hovering over the car, staring in disbelief at the sight before them. From the corner of his eye, he can already see Sehun approaching—the ever-watchful death god, always on hand when needed. He’s not the only one, not by a long shot, but given the frequency at which he shows up near Jongin sometimes it feels like it. He’ll claim those three adult lives, that’s for sure. He’ll claim the child’s life too.

If Jongin lets him.

It would be so easy to walk away. He’s done it many times before. It’s neither good nor bad—it’s just a life fact. Or rather, a life god fact. No one can hold him accountable to life, because he is one of its judges, and no one can judge a judge.

Yes…he can just leave.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t know of any higher power than the death and life gods, yet surely there must be one, because he can’t think of any other reason why his feet would move forward, why he would pass through the mangled roof of the car to gaze upon the boy’s body.

Some life gods believe in staying by the side of a person they chose not to save until he or she passed, to hold themselves accountable in some ways. Some of the more cynical ones suggest their names are a misnomer, because when they stand by, they are no longer life gods, but executioners. Jongin believes that’s a load of crap. If they saved everyone, how overpopulated would the earth be? If no one died, how cheap would life be? Life and death gods exist to maintain the balance, and there is no shame or guilt in that