I stayed lying there for a while longer, resting.
Once again, I lost track of time. Minutes could have passed, or maybe hours.
'Since I entered this nightmare, I've had this constant feeling that there's something wrong with how time flows in here.'
My theory was that, somehow, it was the Aether's fault. Maybe it affected time in some way.
'I just hope not too much time has passed outside. I really don't want to wake up with barely any time left before the Winter Solstice.'
Even after clearing two zones, I still didn't understand what conflict I was supposed to resolve. Supposedly, every nightmare was based on overcoming something, but so far I was completely lost. I hadn't interacted with a single person. Everything I encountered tried to kill me. I was starting to lose my mind.
Sitting down with my back against the trunk of a tree, pulling my knees up to my chest, I looked up at the sky. It was a deep, clear blue, accompanied by completely white clouds. Depending on where I looked, tree branches blocked parts of the view, while in other places those same branches added a contrast of beauty that inspired calm.
Watching this, I couldn't help but think about what might be happening in the waking world while I was trapped in here. Holding back my intrusive thoughts, I let out a long breath. As I closed my eyes, I allowed my most persistent thought to escape.
"I miss my family."
***
Leaving the place where I had been lying, I began absorbing all the bodies of the creatures to get myself back into good condition.
The process was always the same. The bodies turned into violet particles that were drawn toward me. Once inside my body, they began healing the most severe injuries first, then the minor ones. When all wounds were healed, the Aether continued to be absorbed, but when I tried to control it, absolutely nothing happened.
Frustrated, I started walking toward where the portal to the next zone should be.
Had hours passed? I didn't know.
After a while, I found it. It was a portal just like all the previous ones, with a gray outline. It emitted nothing, no energy, no vibrations. If it weren't for the vision at the beginning of the nightmare, I wouldn't even know these portals led to the next zones.
"Here we go."
Before crossing, I put on the new armor I had obtained by killing the second boss. Its description hinted that it had an effect similar to the boss's ability. It didn't make me invisible, but it made it much harder for others to focus their attention on me.
As I stepped through the portal, the sight that greeted me was confusing.
Everything around me was made up of floating platforms, each one about the size of a small house. What immediately caught my attention were the edges of these platforms. Some had red borders, others green, and finally there were a few with orange borders, though those were the least common from what I could see.
The platforms followed no clear pattern. Some were only meters or even centimeters apart, while others were spaced too far to jump between. One important detail was that each platform had a ladder hanging from one of its edges.
The ladders were made of rope and wood, nothing particularly complex.
And at the far edge of my vision, there was a portal that would take me to the final room of the nightmare.
I couldn't help but think that the colors indicated the difficulty of the platforms. The question was, which color was the easiest?
From experience, green was usually associated with lower difficulty, but my instincts were screaming that red platforms might actually be the easiest.
With so little information, it was hard to draw conclusions, but this time I decided to trust my experience. Green always represented calm, right?
'Either way, I won't be able to avoid any color, so it almost doesn't matter.'
From where I stood, I could identify several paths that would lead me to the portal.
One path was made up of six platforms, three with red borders, two green, and one orange.
The second path was more monotonous. Five platforms, four of them green and one orange. If my theory was correct, this would be the safest route. If it wasn't, then this was where I would suffer the most.
Lastly, there was a longer path made up of nine platforms, with three of each color.
The good thing was that even if my theory was wrong and I chose the worst possible path, I could still switch routes along the way.
Still, I had no idea what would happen when I stepped onto a platform. Maybe nothing would happen at all.
Hopefully nothing happened.
One could dream.
But inside a nightmare, every kind of hope was poison.
In the end, I chose the second path, the most monotonous one.
Taking a deep breath, I headed toward the first platform. It was green. After taking a bit of distance, I ran and jumped toward it. Since it was close, I didn't need to use the ladder.
As soon as I landed, I took a combat stance, ready for whatever might come.
At first, the platform didn't react to my presence. But as the seconds passed, I couldn't help but notice the green color along its edge slowly fading. Focusing on expecting the unexpected once the lights went out completely, I held my dagger in my right hand, pointing forward, and lowered my center of gravity.
The lights went out entirely, and I began to feel vibrations in the Aether around me, as if it were making space for something to appear right behind me. When I turned around, a creature was forming.
The pressure it emitted made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I moved away from the center of the platform to create some distance while it finished forming. I considered attacking before it fully materialized, but it was far too risky. I didn't know its rank or its class.
The creature emerged as if it were peeling itself away from reality. Tall, hunched, with a humanoid but poorly proportioned body. Its arms were far too long, ending in thin, sharp extremities, not fingers, but something closer to blades. Its head was smooth, without any features.
Its movements were strange. It didn't walk. It slid.
My Aether sense reacted instantly, marking each of its movements before they happened.
The platform was small. Too small.
I threw the whip on instinct, adjusting its length to just a few meters, aiming to bind one of its legs. The creature reacted by twisting its body in an impossible way, letting the whip pass harmlessly by, and counterattacked with a wide horizontal sweep.
I felt the vibration before the impact and dropped to the ground, rolling across the stone surface. The strike passed just above me and left a deep mark carved into the platform.
If that had hit me directly, I would have been dead.
I sprang back to my feet and attacked with the dagger. The strike connected, but the resistance was minimal, as if its body were made of condensed smoke. The creature barely retreated, more surprised than wounded.
Then it accelerated.
The attacks began coming from increasingly difficult angles. Above, below, from the sides. It wasn't hunting me. It was pressuring me, forcing me toward the edges.
The pressure increased, and with it, something else awakened inside me. Residual Echo activated without warning. My movements became more aggressive, more decisive. The whip extended instantly, and I wrapped it around his legs. Pulling hard, I forced them together, making him lose balance and fall forward.
That was my moment.
Before he could use his arms to stop himself from smashing face-first into the platform, I jumped and landed directly on his neck. The dagger moved on its own, guided by an instinct that didn't feel like mine, and plunged straight into his head.
The creature convulsed. It didn't scream. It simply collapsed into itself and disintegrated into particles that faded into the air.
[You have slain a dormant monster, Phantom Reaper.]
The edge of the platform showed no change. The green light did not return and remained dark.
I took a deep breath. Residual Echo faded, and silence returned.
I looked around at the other floating platforms, red, green, orange, waiting.
'Okay. That wasn't so bad.'
After taking a few minutes to rest, I jumped to the next platform. It was green as well.
The creature didn't emerge immediately.
First came the sound.
A deep, scraping noise, like claws dragging across stone, even though nothing was touching the platform. My Aether sense reacted with a short, confused tremor, as if something large were adjusting itself just outside my field of vision.
Then it appeared.
A wolf… or something that once had been one.
It was enormous. Its body was covered in uneven fur, long, matted clumps hanging unnaturally. Its front legs were far too long, almost disproportionate, forcing its torso to lean forward as if it were always about to pounce.
The head was the worst part.
Its snout twisted to one side, as if the skull had never fully formed correctly. Too many teeth were visible even with its mouth closed, overlapping, irregular. Its eyes didn't glow or reflect anything. They were dull, lifeless, as if they looked without truly seeing.
It didn't growl.
It just stared at me.
My Aether sense marked every tension in its muscles before it happened. Every subtle shift of weight. Every intent to leap. It was fast. Very fast.
The wolf lunged.
I rolled to the side just as its claws struck where I had been. The stone cracked under the impact. I sprang up and lashed the whip toward one of its legs, trying to slow it down.
I missed.
The creature shifted direction midair, landing with brutal agility. Before I could react, it lifted its head and opened its mouth, but it didn't bite.
The world exploded.
I felt the Aether in front of me compress instantly, and an invisible force slammed into my chest. I was sent flying backward as if struck by something solid. I lost control of my body and crashed into the ground, bouncing until I ended up near the edge of the platform.
The air was ripped from my lungs. A deep, crushing pain, beyond anything purely physical.
I coughed, struggling to breathe, while my Aether sense vibrated chaotically around me.
The wolf hadn't moved. It remained in the same spot, watching.
And in that moment, I understood.
When the Aether compressed during the attack, I hadn't felt the creature controlling it.
It was as if the creature had oriented the Aether to do what it wanted.
As if it had pointed in a direction… and the Aether had chosen to respond.
I stayed still, ignoring the pain.
I closed my eyes.
For the first time, I didn't try to impose anything. I focused on the vibration still hanging in the air.
If the Aether had reacted to its intent…
Then maybe…
I could try as well.
I began to feel the Aether around me tremble, as if struggling against a different force. Noticing this, I concentrated even harder on my intention. I completely ignored the creature in front of me, a dangerous move, yet surprisingly, the creature seemed to feel the same thing and remained still.
I regulated my breathing, almost like meditating. I started to feel my entire body. Each breath carried air everywhere. I tried to guide the Aether to do the same. At first, nothing changed, but after a few seconds, a strange sensation began to form inside me.
It felt as if something other than air was flowing through my pores.
With every passing moment, my body felt stronger, filled with a different kind of vitality. Each inhale pulled more Aether into me, while each exhale felt like my pores were widening. I began to sense something forming inside me, almost like veins spreading throughout my body.
But they weren't veins for blood.
They were channels.
Channels through which Aether flowed.
I also felt pressure beneath my eyes, as if something were being etched into my skin. The sensation then spread through my arms before stopping abruptly.
And with that final realization, I heard something that shattered my concentration.
[Your Aspect has changed.]
[One of your Attributes has evolved.]
[You have acquired a new Attribute.]
I didn't have time to react to anything else before the world went black.
I don't know how long I stayed like that. I couldn't open my runes. I couldn't do anything. But when I finally came back to myself, the scenery around me had changed.
I was no longer in the platform zone. The place felt familiar, as if I had seen it before.
That was when I realized I was in the throne room.
Somehow, after gaining that knowledge, my Aspect had changed, one of my Attributes had evolved, and I had acquired a new one. You didn't have to be a genius to tell which Attribute had changed. My [Born of Aether] Attribute had clearly evolved due to my increased insight into Aether, and perhaps the nature of that knowledge was what granted me the new Attribute.
Completely absorbed in my thoughts, I failed to realize that I was still, very much, inside the nightmare. A fatal mistake that, under different circumstances, could have gotten me killed.
What snapped me out of my spiral of thoughts was the sound of someone clearing their throat.
Hearing that, I jumped to my feet and took a defensive stance, ready for any threat. As I scanned the room, I realized the sound came from the figure seated on the throne.
When I finally focused my vision on him, I realized…
He was human.
He had short blonde hair and yellow eyes. He had a large build and wore a pale tunic with long white pants that ended just before his calves, paired with brown sandals. But what caught my attention the most was the crown. It floated a few centimeters above his head, as if it dared not touch his skin.
He was truly a king.
The figure… the person… was looking at me with disappointment, the kind someone gives a brother or friend after they've made a mistake.
I took a deep breath to calm myself, clearing my throat as well and gathering my courage to speak.
But before I could, he spoke first.
"You're late."
The words fell flat, without emphasis, yet carried a weight that ran through my entire body.
I froze for a moment.
'Late?'
'What the hell does he mean?'
"Late?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise. "Late for what? Who are you? And how can you talk to me when I'm still in the middle of a nightmare?"
The figure on the throne closed his eyes and let out a long, tired sigh.
"Alright… slowly, kid," he said in a serious, dry tone. "Breathe and calm down, because this is important and I'm not going to repeat it twice. Do you understand?"
I swallowed.
The urge to argue was still there, but something in his voice made me stop. I inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and nodded.
"…Yes."
Before I could add anything else, he spoke again.
"I am Grey. King Grey."
I felt a knot form in my stomach.
"I am you. But you are not me, because you do not have knowledge of me."
The world seemed to tilt slightly.
'What?, That makes no sense.'
"That…" I started, but stopped. I didn't even know where to begin questioning that.
"I understand," I said at last, even though I knew it wasn't true.
Grey watched me in silence for a few seconds.
"You didn't understand what I said, did you?"
"No," I admitted. "I didn't understand anything."
"Good," he replied without the slightest annoyance. "Then let's set that aside. It's not what matters."
He shifted on the throne, resting an elbow on the armrest.
"Let's go straight to what matters. It's time for your trial."
"Trial?" I frowned. "I thought the whole nightmare was the trial."
"No. And yes," he answered. "The nightmare was meant to give you the necessary tools to learn how to understand Aether. The faster you had done that, the sooner we would be having this conversation."
That only confused me further.
"Okay… and what exactly is this trial you're talking about?"
Grey tilted his head slightly.
"Good. Straight to the point. I like that."
He scratched his chin for a few seconds before continuing.
"The trial is simple. You have to tell me everything you know about Aether, and then a simple sparring match."
He paused deliberately.
"If I decide it's sufficient, you pass the trial and, by extension, the nightmare. If I decide you don't know enough… you will die and fail the nightmare."
The air got stuck in my chest.
'I barely know anything about Aether.'
'Just sensations, intuitions, and this last thing about trying to guide it instead of controlling it… will that be enough?'
Even so, I nodded slowly.
Grey raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't react the way I thought you would," he said. "Tell me— is this arrogance… or acceptance that you're going to fail?"
I met his gaze.
"I guess there's only one way to find out, right?"
For the first time since he had appeared, Grey smiled.
"Fair enough."
He leaned forward.
"Let's begin."
Before he started questioning me, I took the time to check the changes to my Aspect and Attributes.
Aspect: [Aether Resonance]
Aspect Description:
[Your soul has gained affinity with one of the branches of Aether, allowing you to interact with it and exert limited control over it. In addition, you react to the vibrations of Aether as a whole, perceiving subtle distortions, as if something invisible were vibrating out of place.]
'One of the branches of Aether? Which branch would that be? Maybe it's in the Attribute I gained?'
Attribute: [Entity of Aether]
Description:
[Your existence was not formed apart from Aether, but as a part of it. Aether is not an external medium or a foreign force: it responds to your will as if recognizing something of its own. You do not fully understand it, but you are no longer a mere observer.]
'This is the Attribute that evolved. It used to be called Born of Aether.'
'Let's see the new Attribute I gained.'
Attribute: [Realmheart]
Description:
[Your consciousness opens to the branch of the Aether of Existence (Vivum). The Aether that permeates the environment becomes visible to you, revealing its flow and structure. By perceiving it, your interaction with it becomes more precise and efficient, not through imposition, but because understanding its movement allows you to guide it.]
'This can help me a lot. "Understanding its movement allows you to guide it." So I was right— Aether must have some form of consciousness. That's why it always healed my most severe wounds first, prioritizing my survival over performance. That's why my hand was the last thing to regrow— it didn't pose a risk to my life.'
'It also explains why I couldn't control it. Because that was the point— it can't be controlled. It can only be guided, oriented toward the goal you have.'
Grey didn't speak right away. His eyes stayed fixed on me, expectant.
"Well," he finally said. "Let's start simple. Tell me, Arthur… what is Aether?"
I didn't answer immediately.
'First, how did he know my name? Second, what is Aether…'
I closed my eyes for a second and let the sensations speak for themselves. I felt it everywhere. Not as something that filled space, but as something that had been there even before space existed. It was in the living, flowing and reacting. In the dead, still but not absent. In the stone beneath my feet, in the air, even in the void between things. It didn't distinguish between organic and inorganic. Everything shared it.
I opened my eyes.
"Aether is part of reality itself," I said. "It doesn't distinguish between life, death, or matter. It's in everything, because everything exists thanks to it."
Grey didn't respond immediately. He studied me for a few seconds, as if evaluating something he couldn't see. Then he nodded slowly.
"Good."
He took a breath before continuing.
"Then tell me. Which branch of Aether did you gain knowledge of before coming here?"
"Vivium."
"And by what other name is Vivium known?"
"As the Aether of Existence."
"Good," he said without hesitation. "And which Attribute did you gain?"
"Realmheart," I replied. "It allows me to see the particles of Aether in the environment and gives me an advantage when trying to control it."
Grey inclined his head slightly.
"Control it?" he asked. "Are you sure that's the word you want to use?"
I shook my head softly.
"No. The correct word would be… guide it."
A faint curve appeared at the corner of his lips.
"Correct," he affirmed. "Now tell me. Which branches does the Edict of Existence govern?"
This time, I hesitated.
'I don't know.'
I took a few more seconds than I would have liked.
"Life and death," I finally answered.
Grey raised an eyebrow.
"Only that?" he said. "I'll give you one more chance, kid. Think carefully before you answer."
My pulse thudded in my ears.
'Life and death… what do they really imply?'
Life creates. Death destroys. They weren't simple opposites; they were processes.
"It includes life and death," I said more confidently, "but also creation and destruction."
This time, Grey truly smiled. It was brief, but unmistakable. He nodded once.
"Good."
He settled back into the throne before continuing.
"And do you know anything about the other branches?"
"Unfortunately, no," I admitted. "I could try to deduce something, but I don't think that would be the right decision."
Grey nodded again.
"Good. A wise choice."
He fell silent for a few seconds, as if closing that topic.
"That's all from my side," he finally said. "Do you have any questions?"
I looked at him, hesitated for a moment… and nodded.
"Yes."
Bringing a hand to my chin, I paused to think.
'I didn't actually have anything planned to ask… I just said yes on instinct, but someone with this much knowledge doesn't show up twice.'
I lifted my gaze.
"You said there were more branches of Aether," I asked. "What are they, and what do they do?"
Grey answered without hesitation, as if the question were far beneath the depth of his knowledge.
"There are three main branches. Spatium, which governs space. Aevium, which rules time. And Vivium, which you already know—existence. There are more Edicts beyond those, but they remain unknown."
A faint shiver ran down my spine.
"So…" I murmured. "Could I control all of that in the future?"
"Yes," he replied. "But only if you obtain the necessary knowledge to awaken the Attributes that allow it."
I couldn't stop a small, almost dangerous smile from forming on my face.
'That opens up far too many possibilities.'
Grey noticed it immediately.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"No," I answered quickly. "I also wanted to ask… how all of this is possible. How we're having this conversation. And why my first nightmare is so different from everyone else's."
Grey tilted his head slightly.
"I knew we'd get to this," he said. "Your two questions are related, even if you haven't realized it. Your first nightmare is different because Weaver and I made a deal to modify it. And this conversation exists because of that."
My mind filled with noise.
'Weaver? The daemon of fate? What do you mean, supposed to?'
"Wait," I said, frowning. "Weaver, the daemon of fate? What does he have to do with this? And you said you assume my nightmare is different… don't you know that for sure?"
Grey sighed.
"Yes. That very Weaver," he replied. "I'm surprised you know who he is. He's the creator of the nightmare spell, so if I wanted to alter it, I had to negotiate with him."
He took a breath before continuing.
"I don't know what normal nightmares are like. While I was alive, Weaver's spell wasn't so widespread… and I was never part of it."
I felt as if the ground vanished beneath my feet.
"What do you mean, while you were alive?" I exclaimed.
Grey held my gaze. His expression grew heavy.
"Last question I'll answer," he said firmly. "Do you want it to be that one… or would you rather change it?"
Silence fell like a slab of stone.
'I could ask what he meant, but… that can wait.'
I exhaled slowly.
What would be the most valuable thing I could get from this?
"Can you teach me more about the other branches of Aether?" I asked.
"No."
I blinked.
"No?"
"You need to understand something," Grey explained. "Aether works on the basis of knowledge. If I explain a branch to you, I'll alter your prior understanding. That could lead you to gain incomplete knowledge… and that is dangerous."
I nodded slowly.
"That makes sense," I admitted. "I understand."
"Good," Grey said. "Then it's time for our sparring."
"What—?"
I didn't get to finish the sentence before the world went black.
When I regained consciousness, I was in a completely white space. There were no walls. No ceiling. No visible floor beyond where my feet stood. Everything stretched endlessly into infinity.
Grey stood in front of me.
He was no longer wearing robes.
He wore black-and-gold scaled armor, with horns emerging from the helmet as if they were part of him.
"Summon a weapon," he ordered.
"I don't have one," I replied. "I didn't obtain any in the zones."
Grey appeared in front of me in an instant and placed a hand on my shoulder.
An electric current surged through my entire body. I recognized it immediately. Grey had transferred a Memory to me.
"This will be enough," he said.
[You have received a new Memory: Dawn's Ballad.]
Instinctively, I summoned it.
The sword had a translucent teal hue that contrasted almost violently with the matte-black scabbard and dark handle. The blade was straight and narrow, as thin as a rapier, yet double-edged, designed for both slashing and thrusting. The edge curved cleanly into a perfect, sharp tip. There were no markings, no signs of prior sharpening, as if the sword had been born complete.
I made a few test swings.
The balance was perfect.
Neither heavy nor light. It responded exactly as my body expected it to, as if it had been made for me.
I took a deep breath and lowered my center of gravity.
"Whenever you want," I said.
Grey responded by summoning his weapon. A deep-violet longsword appeared in his hand, simple in shape, yet radiating a pressure that made the aether around it vibrate.
He attacked first.
The clash of swords echoed through the white void. I stepped back, surprised by the force contained in such a simple strike. Grey wasn't using his full power—not even close—and yet every impact forced me to constantly readjust my stance.
Residual Echo activated instantly.
My movements became faster, more aggressive. I attacked without pause, mixing slashes and thrusts, searching for any opening. Grey blocked everything with insulting ease. Sometimes he deflected my blade with the slightest movement. Other times he simply stepped half a pace aside, and my attack found only air.
We exchanged dozens of blows.
I was giving it everything.
He was holding back.
I realized it when, even with Residual Echo active, I couldn't pressure him at all. Angle, speed, intent—it didn't matter. Grey was always one step ahead.
In the blink of an eye, my sword was knocked aside. I felt a light tap against my chest and lost my balance. When I tried to react, I was on the ground, Grey's sword stopped mere centimeters from my throat.
There was no pain. No wound.
Only defeat.
Grey stepped back and dismissed his weapon.
"Not bad," he said.
The world darkened again.
When my vision returned, I was back in the throne room, as if none of it had ever happened.
Pulling myself together as best I could, I asked:
"Was that all?"
Seated once more on the throne, Grey replied with absolute calm:
"Yes. You passed."
It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. Before I could react, he added:
"Now I'm going to explain what happens next."
Without giving me time to say anything, Grey rose from the throne and began walking toward me. With each step, the pressure in the air increased slightly—just enough to put my instincts on edge.
"A map with the locations of the next relics you must obtain will be etched into your soul," he said as he advanced. "They will act unconsciously. You'll feel your instincts pushing you to make certain decisions, to be in specific places. My advice is to let yourself be guided."
I frowned.
"A map… in my soul?"
"Exactly."
He continued without stopping. "In addition to that, I'll enhance your physique so you'll have better affinity with the Aether."
A knot formed in my chest.
'There's something I still don't understand. What's the real purpose of all this? Why so much responsibility? Why me?'
Before he came any closer, I gathered enough courage.
"Wait."
I raised my hand instinctively.
Grey stopped.
"Why me?" I asked, my voice more tense than I expected. "What's the purpose of all this? What's so important that you'd make a deal with the Daemon of Fate himself? And why leave this responsibility to me? You seem far more suited for it. You must be at least of the Sacred rank. I haven't even finished my first nightmare…"
Grey lifted his head toward the ceiling and let out a long sigh.
"Questions… so many questions."
Without lowering his gaze, he continued. "Why you? I already answered that. I am you—but you are not me, because you don't have my memories and the purpose—"
"No." I interrupted him, losing my patience. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? It's the second time you've said that, and it still makes no sense."
Grey lowered his gaze and looked at me with an oddly patient expression.
"Arthur, by now I thought you would have figured it out. Don't you have an Attribute that talks about me?"
My eyes widened. I opened my runes immediately.
Attribute: [Residual Echo]
Description:
[Remnants of a previous existence persist within your soul, not as memories, but as ways of acting. Under pressure, decisions you don't remember learning emerge without you knowing where they came from.]
'Of course… how didn't I realize it before. What an idiot.'
"So… are you a previous existence of mine?" I asked with difficulty. "Am I reincarnated?"
"Yes to both," he replied bluntly. "And if you're wondering why you don't have memories of your past life, it's simple. If you did, you would have already succumbed to corruption."
I swallowed.
"Corruption? Like… a nightmare creature?"
"Exactly. For reasons that aren't relevant here, I succumbed in the past. If remnants of my knowledge had remained, there was a high probability that information you shouldn't even know exists would end up corrupting you."
I nodded slowly.
"I understand… and how was my reincarnation possible? I didn't know something like that could be done."
"The key is Fate itself," he explained. "That's why I had to make a deal with Weaver. And for that same reason, I left you the map of the relics. Once you obtain them, you should gain the ability to understand Fate."
"Let me guess," I said bitterly. "To understand Fate, I need knowledge of the Aether?"
"Something like that," he replied. "And that is precisely what Weaver wanted from me."
I clenched my teeth.
"I still don't fully understand why me."
Grey looked straight at me.
"It's your Fate, Arthur. Even after everything, I'm not entirely sure what role you'll play. When I searched for your thread among the threads of Fate, yours was always hidden, as if someone had concealed it on purpose."
He paused. "And the reason for all of this? What else could it be? Saving the world, obviously."
My stomach sank.
"That's enough," he added. "Time is running out."
Before I could react, Grey appeared in front of me in an instant. He placed his right hand on my shoulder and, for the first time, smiled with genuine warmth.
"This might hurt a little," he said. "And promise me you'll keep taking care of our family."
The word our was the last thing I heard clearly.
After that, my vision faded.
Darkness. Complete darkness.
I was floating, hovering in an utterly reflectionless black. Whether I was drifting or suspended in place, I couldn't tell.
All I knew was that there was nothing else—no sound, taste, smell, or touch in this sea of perpetual darkness.
At first, it was peaceful. I felt like I was both nothing and everything at the same time. Like a tiny speck in a vast universe, yet also as if nothing else existed besides me.
However, as time passed, I remembered more of what I was. I was human… with hands, feet, and a body.
Yet I couldn't feel anything. I tried curling my fingers and toes. I tried flaring my nostrils, opening my mouth. Nothing. I couldn't even feel myself breathing.
Fear took hold quickly. It didn't come with the physiological signs I was used to—no pounding heart, no quickened breath, no trembling body.
Time passed, but in a state of nothingness, it was impossible to tell whether it was moving fast or slow.
It was only when I felt a slight prickle on my… arm—yes, my arm—that I jolted out of my stupor.
I had felt something for the first time. A few moments later, another prickle followed, this one spreading across my chest. Soon, those prickles escalated into sharp, piercing pains—but I didn't care. Even pain was verifiable proof that I existed outside my consciousness.
I waited for the next wave of pain. The sensation of scalding needles digging into every single pore would have driven me insane under normal circumstances, but after the subjective eons of literal nothingness, I welcomed every increasingly agonizing surge of burning, piercing pain across every millimeter of my body.
More exciting still, my vision began to brighten until the void around me grew lighter and lighter.
I don't know how much time passed, but only when my entire vision turned white did I begin to feel my body as my own again. Though… different. As if I were a stranger inside myself.
When I finally managed to open my eyes and felt the cool, sticky moisture of saliva against my cheek, I knew I had passed out.
As I fully regained consciousness, a sound caught my attention. Someone was clearing their throat, saying something I couldn't quite make out. I lowered my gaze and noticed a figure in front of me… walking toward me.
Panic surged through my body before I could stop it. I began struggling against the gurney I was strapped to, breathing erratically. After several seconds, my ears finally picked up the voice again.
"Art?"
I froze.
That voice…
Forcing myself to breathe, I lifted my gaze. In front of me stood a man in his early forties, with ash-brown hair, deep blue eyes, and strong, defined eyebrows. Recognition hit instantly, and I cursed myself for not realizing it sooner.
It was my father.
"Dad?"
A huge smile spread across his face as he hurried over to unstrap me.
"Arthur, son… you're back!"
I still felt weak, but seeing him there pushed all the pain into the background.
"Of course I'm back," I replied with a tired smile. "I promised Ellie, didn't I?"
He chuckled softly as he finished unfastening the restraints.
"I'm going to call a nurse," he said. "In the meantime, stay here… and start thinking up a good excuse for that change in looks."
Arthur thought, still dazed.
'A change in looks… what is he talking about?'
With a mix of unease and curiosity, I reached for the communicator my father had left on a nearby table. I activated the front camera almost on reflex.
And then I saw myself.
"—"
A small cry escaped me before I could stop it. It was short and sharp, more like a surprised exhale than a real scream, but enough to make my chest tighten.
That wasn't me.
Or… not entirely.
My hair, which had always been a reddish-brown inherited from my mother, was now pale blond, almost silvery under the room's light. My eyes… my eyes were the worst part. Where there had once been a deep blue like my father's, there was now an intense yellow—strange, with a feline gleam that didn't seem entirely human. Even the shape of my face had changed. My jaw was more defined, my cheekbones sharper, my features more pronounced, more mature… more alien.
I lowered the communicator with trembling hands.
'No… no… this can't be real.'
I brought both hands to my face, pressing hard, as if touching it might force it back into the shape I remembered. My breathing quickened. Part of me wanted to believe it was some kind of side effect, an illusion—anything but this.
Several minutes passed before I managed to calm down enough to breathe normally again. Just then, the door opened.
My father entered, accompanied by a nurse. Both paused briefly when they saw me, then moved closer to the gurney, forming an improvised triangle around me.
The nurse spoke first, her voice gentle and professional.
"Arthur, how are you feeling?"
"Still a bit sore," I answered honestly, "but… overall, okay."
My father nodded, visibly relieved, though his gaze quickly returned to my face.
"And… well," he said hesitantly, "I guess I have to ask. What happened to your… change in looks?"
I shook my head almost immediately.
"I don't know. I didn't do anything on purpose. When I woke up, I was already like this."
The nurse didn't seem surprised.
"It can happen," she explained. "There are a few recorded cases. Some patients experience physical changes after a nightmare—variations in hair color, eye color, minor changes in facial features…"
"Okay," my father and I said at the same time.
She paused briefly before continuing.
"Although, in your case, it's… different."
She looked at both of us. "Not just because of the physical changes. You were inside the nightmare for two weeks."
The world seemed to stop.
"Two… weeks?"
The air left my lungs. I brought my hands to my face again, resting my elbows on my knees.
I felt a firm hand settle on my shoulder.
"Arthur," my father said steadily, "that doesn't matter anymore. You're here. You came back. And you're okay."
I took several deep breaths until the tight knot in my chest loosened slightly.
"…You're right," I said at last. "I'm here."
The nurse smiled faintly.
"We're going to run a few quick tests. Your case was unusual, and we want to make sure everything is in order. After that, you'll be able to go home and prepare for the Winter Solstice."
That immediately caught my attention.
"How long until the Winter Solstice?" I asked, lifting my head.
My father answered without hesitation:
"Two weeks."
I nodded slowly.
Two weeks…