(Yuuta's POV )
Where… am I?
Water lapped at my ankles. Cold. Icy. Too real to be a dream, too strange to be anything else.
The river was wide and eerily still, its surface like glass, reflecting a flawless blue sky. The air was silent—no birds, no wind, not even the rustle of trees. Just me. And the water. And that creeping sensation that I didn't belong here.
My breath fogged slightly as I turned in slow circles.
Then I saw her.
Erza.
She stood ahead, far away, at the river's bend. Barefoot. Still. Dressed in a white gown that rippled unnaturally despite the still air. Her long silver hair fell down her back like moonlight—beautiful, but wrong. Too smooth. Too perfect.
I called out, "Erza!"
No answer.
I moved toward her, feet splashing quietly through the shallow river. Each step echoed louder than it should have—like the world was amplifying sound to fill its emptiness.
And then… the water changed.
Slowly.
A ripple of red. Then another. The current grew thicker, sluggish. I looked down.
Blood.
It clung to my legs. The sky overhead darkened into bruised crimson. The clouds warped, curling into tight spirals, as if choking on themselves.
Panic fluttered in my chest.
Around me, shapes floated in the river. Bodies—limp and gray. Eyes wide open. Mouths agape. Fingers reaching for nothing.
Then came the things that weren't human.
Monsters. Twisted goblin-like beasts. Skin hanging loose from cracked bones. Eyes like burnt coals. They crawled across the surface of the water, feeding—biting into corpses, tearing into flesh with glee.
I stumbled back, horror closing around my lungs like a vice.
But Erza stood untouched.
Closer now.
I opened my mouth to speak—then froze.
She wasn't alone.
In her arms… she was holding Elena.
My daughter. Dressed in her favorite yellow pajamas, arms limp, her head resting against Erza's shoulder.
"Elena?" I breathed.
Something in me shattered. I rushed forward. "Erza—what happened to her?! Is she okay?!"
Erza finally turned to face me.
Her eyes glowed softly with an unnatural violet hue. Empty. Hollow.
She smiled. But it was wrong. Too calm. Too distant.
"She's sleeping," she said sweetly. "Our daughter is resting now."
I took a step back.
Erza tilted her head. "You should be sleeping too, my dear mortal."
"What…?"
Her smile widened—then snapped into something else.
Something feral.
Before I could move, she dropped Elena into the river.
I screamed—but there was no sound. My voice vanished before it even left my mouth.
And Erza was already in front of me.
Her obsidian blade appeared in her hand, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"Sleep," she whispered.
The last thing I saw was her eyes—those once-loving eyes, now hollow voids.
Then steel met flesh.
Cold, fast, precise.
My head hit the river with a splash, my eyes still open. Watching.
And the last thing I saw before the blood swallowed me whole… was Elena's lifeless body drifting beside mine.
I screamed.
The sound tore from my throat like it had claws—raw, panicked, and wild.
My hands clutched my neck. Still there. Still attached. No blood. No blade. Just skin slick with sweat.
I was breathing too fast—ragged gasps, like I'd been running for miles. My heart thundered against my ribs, loud and violent. For a moment, everything was a blur. The room spun. The air felt too thin.
Then slowly, the edges of reality crept in.
The ceiling.
Wooden. Familiar. Our ceiling.
The soft golden light of morning filtered through the cracked window.
I blinked, trying to focus. My vision cleared—just enough for my eyes to land on the small figure lying next to me.
Elena.
Curled in a ball, thumb tucked under her chin, chest rising and falling with each quiet breath.
Alive. Safe. Peaceful.
My hand shook as I reached out and gently touched her hair.
Warm.
A sob slipped past my lips. Then another. I pressed my palm over my mouth, but I couldn't stop the tears. They spilled hot and heavy down my cheeks. Relief. Terror. Joy. All tangled into one overwhelming mess.
She was okay.
She was really okay.
"Thank God..."
I didn't realize I'd said it aloud,
I was confused—just moments ago, I was in Port. How did I end up here?
Then it hit me.
Erza must've carried me… and I collapsed before I even realized it.
Behind me, I heard a yawn—soft, groggy.
Footsteps padded across the wooden floor.
I turned.
Erza was kneeling beside the bed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, her hair a tousled silver mess. She looked half-asleep, her voice thick with confusion.
"Yuuta...?" she mumbled. "What's with the yelling, you stupid mortal?"
She smiled weakly as her eyes opened fully.
Then our gazes met.
And something inside me snapped.
The color drained from my face. My body stiffened.
My breathing quickened again—too fast. Too shallow.
The nightmare rushed back all at once:
The river of blood.
The lifeless bodies.
The port.
Headless body.
Her eyes—those glowing violet eyes—cold and hollow.
Her voice:
"Sleep beside my daughter… my dear mortal."
And then—the blade.
The sound of it slicing through my flesh.
My own head falling into crimson water.
I flinched back, trembling violently.
Erza's smile faded.
"Yuuta?" she asked again, quieter now. "Hey… what's wrong?"
But her voice was wrong. Warped. Distant. I couldn't hear her—not truly. All I could hear was the echo of the dream. All I could see were her eyes from that twisted place.
She took a step closer.
I recoiled.
My back hit the wall. I clutched at my hair, digging my fingers into my scalp like I could rip the memory out by force.
"You should be sleeping too, my dear mortal…"
Slash.
A tear slipped down my cheek. Then another.
She paused.
"Yuuta?" Her voice cracked, now layered with hurt. "Why are you... looking at me like that?"
I couldn't answer.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't stop shaking.
She stood frozen for a second, one foot still slightly lifted—as if unsure whether to move closer or step away.
Then she knelt down slowly. Carefully. Her voice softer than I'd ever heard it.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
Still, I didn't move. Didn't trust my own body. My mind. Her.
But then…
She opened her arms.
No force. No pressure. Just… an invitation.
"Please," she said, almost a whisper. "Let me hold you. Just for a second. I don't know what you saw. But I'm here. And I'm me."
I hesitated.
Then—shaking, hesitant—I leaned forward. Just enough to feel her warmth.
Her arms closed around me. Gentle. Steady.
And for the first time since waking, I felt… human again.
I buried my face into her shoulder, tears soaking into her shirt. She didn't say anything more. She just held me, quietly.
I was holding back tears, chest tight, eyes stinging—but I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to look weak.
Then Erza's arms wrapped around me again, steady and sure. She gently rubbed my back in small circles, her voice barely above a whisper.
"If you're scared… just accept it," she said. "Holding it in will only make it worse."
That broke me.
The dam inside finally cracked.
I sobbed—quiet at first, then harder. Raw, unfiltered grief and fear spilling out in ragged gasps. I didn't even know why I was crying anymore. Was it the dream? The blood? The blade?or it was port incident Or was it the simple truth that I couldn't understand what was happening to me?
"I don't get it," I whispered through the tears. "I don't know what's real anymore…"
She didn't rush me.
She just held me tighter, her chin resting lightly on my shoulder.
"Don't worry," she murmured. "I'm here with you."
Time passed like that—quiet and heavy. Eventually, the storm inside me calmed just enough for me to sit up on the edge of the bed, wiping my face with the back of my sleeve. My breath still hitched every so often, but the worst had passed.
Erza sat beside me, her hand slipping into mine with gentle certainty. Her palm was calloused, rough from battle, but warm.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
I hesitated, glancing toward Elena—still sleeping peacefully. I didn't want to scare her.
So I turned back to Erza, voice barely steady.
"I had a nightmare," I said. "It was… terrifying. I thought I was going to die and u."
I stopped there.
Because I don't want her to know about that last part.
But I saw her face change—just slightly. A flicker in her eyes. A breath she forgot to take.
She knew.
"You saw me… didn't you?" she asked quietly.
I nodded.
There was no need to explain the details.
She looked down, eyes dim. Her expression didn't change much, but her voice lowered in a way that made the room feel colder.
"It's not the first time I've heard that," she said. "Back in my world, whenever we captured enemies… soldiers, rebels, even mages… they used to have nightmares about me. Sometimes they went mad from it."
Her tone was flat, almost mechanical—like she'd told this story before. But behind that coldness… I saw something else. A glint in her eyes. A single, trembling tear she didn't wipe away.
A child, still buried beneath the monster everyone else saw.
I didn't push. I didn't ask more.
Instead, I gave a weak laugh—just enough to break the silence.
"That's gotta be a joke, right?"
She blinked, confused.
"What?"
"I mean…" I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. "How embarrassing. I didn't even realize when did I collapsed. I just—blacked out like some kind of rookie."
Her lips twitched.
"Of course you did," she said, a teasing edge in her voice. "You were curled up in my arms. Sleeping like a baby."
I groaned. "Don't say it like that!"
And then I said.
"Oh… I just remembered," I murmured, my voice still rough from crying. "Where's Sister Mary?"
Erza, who had been quietly sitting beside my bed, glanced at me.
"She left after dropping Elena off," she said softly. "She had to return to the church for something urgent."
I let out a small breath of relief. "Thank God she got Elena here safely… I didn't even get to thank her. My bad."
Erza didn't respond right away. Her eyes stayed on me—not accusing, but observant. I could feel it. The way she watched me. Like she could read every tremble in my hands, every time my eyes darted away from hers.
And the truth was—I was twitching. Shaken.
Even though she hadn't hurt me… even though she sat right there, calm and quiet… I couldn't erase the memory.
The port. The chaos. The blood. The fear.
It clung to me like smoke after a fire.
Erza's voice broke through gently, barely louder than a whisper. "Yuuta… are you scared?"
I froze.
"…No," I said too quickly. "Why would I be scared? And of who?"
Her expression didn't change, but her voice grew softer.
"You're scared of me… right? That's why you are trying to change topic."
I didn't answer.
"You don't have to act strong," she said, almost like she was comforting a child. "It's okay."
I swallowed hard. My throat tightened.
Then, quietly, almost shamefully—I admitted it.
"…You're right. I am scared."
A tear slipped down my cheek. I didn't wipe it away.
Erza didn't flinch. She nodded slowly, like she'd been waiting for that moment.
"I know," she said. "It's not my first time seeing that look."
I reached out and gently took her hand. My voice cracked.
"I'm sorry…"
She squeezed my fingers, eyes on mine. "It's okay. I'm used to it."
But then her gaze faltered. Her voice dipped, low and vulnerable.
"…Past me never really cared about how people looked at me. If they feared me. Hated me. I thought it made things easier."
She looked away, just for a moment. Something behind her eyes—guilt? Regret? Pain?
"But now… it hurts," she whispered.
My breath caught. Something had shifted.
I looked at her more carefully. "What do you mean you're used to this?"
She turned back toward me, and for the first time, her eyes looked… distant. Not at the room. Not even at me. But somewhere far away.
"I saw it too many times in my world," she said, her tone quiet. "And I think it's time you knew."
The air in the room thickened.
I could feel it—she was about to tell me something important. Something buried deep in her past. Something that might change everything.
She looked right at me.
And for a moment… she looked scared, too.
To be continued…