The Dreamer (2)

Without a doubt, <The Dreamer> twisted my life the most.

You could say it’s my mortal enemy. Thanks to it, I lost both my name and the path back home.

And I must have lost many other things I can’t even remember.

But this time is different. This time, I’ve decided to face the trial head-on.

Not as an unprecedented calamity encountered by chance, but as faith I deliberately summoned, calling forth that fog.

Using the power of <Morpheus’s Dream Fragment>, I bind an unstable existence with a proper contract to borrow its power.

“Please, bring dreams into reality.”

Fog descends upon the Castle of Mechanisms that had been brightly illuminated by white electric lights.

Yes, this fog. The fog that took countless things from me is coming.

A fog so thick I can’t see an inch in front of me.

My hands tremble from instinctive revulsion. I took out my tobacco and lit it, but even its faint light is invisible.

And along with a sensation of being isolated from the world, it arrived.

-Dreams…

Something moved fleetingly within the gray fog.

It looked like a human figure, but it appeared more like a doll made of compressed fog, without eyes, nose, or mouth.

“…This is something I didn’t know.”

<The Dreamer> Morpheus has no form. That’s why it’s classified among trials as a phenomenon.

Like a natural disaster encountered by chance, the dream-showing fog dissolves into and floats through the world.

Yet to have such a clear form… Is this time special? Or has it always been like this, and I just can’t remember?

The doll made of compressed fog approached me silently.

-I shall…

It gently caresses my cheek.

Though it has no eyes, I could almost see an expression filled with concern.

-protect you all…

“Is that so?”

The voice was emotionless.

Perhaps because it had already lived crawling on the earth for countless years.

A being that appears to show sweet dreams to those who cry, driven only by the determination to protect people.

A being that, unaware of its already punctured divinity, came to exact payment in exchange for showing sweet dreams.

-Do not… worry… In your… happiest moment…

The hand that had been caressing my cheek moves up to my head. At that seemingly stroking gesture, the fog-shrouded world takes on color.

A dark sky, pure white light illuminating everything, a small tea table with numerous snacks laid out on it.

My happiest moment.

When I was having tea and making small talk with the Saintess.

The stage is set. I’m already dreaming. And Morpheus’s form was no longer visible.

All I could see was a fragment of memories.

“■■■. Welcome back. Good work on your latest mission.”

“This is  too cruel.”

“Hm? What do you mean? This mission shouldn’t have been too difficult.”

“Didn’t you say this was my happiest moment, Morpheus?”

“■■■…?”

What appeared before me was the Saintess sitting at the tea table.

Like a greedy child, she holds a teacup in one hand and a snack in the other.

Just as a bitter smile was about to form at that sight, my expression contorted.

“Saintess. Even… even at a moment like this, why can I not remember you completely?”

A pure white mask on her face.

Though I can see her hair color with my eyes, I can’t tell what it is, nor whether it’s long or short.

I could feel my memory of her growing increasingly faint within me.

“Does it make sense to wear a mask even while drinking tea?”

“Do you want me to remove my mask?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“…”

What expression am I making right now? Perhaps I couldn’t hide a face that looked like it might cry.

I know. I remember.

I know well that this is how the trial of Morpheus works.

Haven’t I experienced it several times already and faced disappointment just as many times?

I reach out toward the mask covering the Saintess’s face.

But I don’t touch it. I must not touch it. I didn’t come here to sink into this dream.

“My friend is badly hurt.”

“I see.”

I won’t forget Linea’s struggle.

The reason I summoned Morpheus was to break through this situation, not to escape.

“So I must return.”

“Without confirming this fragment of your happiest memory right before you?”

“Yes, I won’t confirm it. Instead, I’ll pay the price, so please grant me a dream worthy of that payment.”

“What kind of dream do you want?”

“Then please, show me the scene where you shone most brilliantly.”

I can’t achieve it with my current self. I lack the ability. But she could do it – the one I admired.

I’ll borrow that power, that dream.

“The price will be steep.”

“I’ll endure it.”

“You might end up suffering and wandering the back alleys like before.”

“Things are different from back then.”

“How so?”

“This time, it’s not a journey I’m undertaking alone.”

Even if I make mistakes, even if I falter, I’ve prepared people who can move forward in my place.

The Saintess sets down her teacup.

Morpheus sets down the snacks.

The being that is both Saintess and Morpheus bows their head.

The parent who loved their children.

The god of dreams who can temporarily exercise their original authority through <Morpheus’s Dream Fragment>.

“Then I shall show you.”

“Thank you.”

Crack!

The moment I give a bitter smile, the space before my eyes splits like broken glass.

A different scenery overlays it as buildings rise up around us.

The sky is still dark, but this time there’s no light illuminating the surroundings.

In the deep darkness, the only light is the remnant of holy power emanating from the Saintess before me.

I remember this moment.

“I told you the price would be steep.”

Morpheus, who had somehow appeared beside me, points in one direction.

There stood another Saintess, the Saintess from my memories.

“Will you still endure it?”

“Yes, I will endure it.”

The moment when I, having lost everything and wandering the back alleys, met the Saintess.

The turning point of my life.

My most precious memory.

Morpheus was asking if I wanted to dream this one moment badly enough to pay with such a memory.

Yes, this time the price is quite steep.

But the stronger and more precise the dream I can bring into reality will be, proportional to that steep price.

-Then, beloved son, may you have happy dreams.

With a nod, Morpheus disappeared into fog.

Now all that remains is me, standing far away watching the stage, and.

The protagonists of the stage. The curtain rises and the actors move.

The Saintess extends her hand.

Slightly downward, toward the man collapsed before her.

The moment when I met the Saintess. The moment she reached out her hand to me.

The point when I started trying to live in the world again.

The scene that follows is deeply etched in my mind.

The memory is still vivid.

I grasp that hand. Simply clinging to it without even checking whose hand it was, desperate to live even a little longer.

When I finally looked up at her face after grasping her hand like that.

-I found you. My ■■■.

Along with the girl’s bright smile, my second name was given.

The name she gave me carried meaning in itself.

That’s why it was precious. That’s why I can’t use it now.

Because it’s a baptismal name that has meaning precisely because she gave it.

-Now, shall we go together?

What was she looking for in me?

That’s still a mystery. But it’s because she reached out her hand that I can be here now.

The benefactor of my life. The direction of my life.

And the proof of my resolution.

“…Saintess, I’m afraid going together will be difficult now.”

I cannot interfere with the stage.

This is merely a scene from the past; my words cannot reach it.

Now that hand cannot reach me.

She who reached out her hand to me no longer exists.

The me in my memories is grasping her hand as if receiving salvation.

But now I can only watch that from here.

Meaninglessly etching onto my retinas a moment that will never come again.

The memory is corrupted.

The memory I thought I would never forget fades from my mind like running paint.

A tear rolls down my cheek. But soon I won’t even understand the meaning of that tear.

But that’s alright.

This is the ending I chose.

“You held my hand for so long, now I want to walk on my own feet.”

Using that brilliant moment as my driving force to move forward.

Though I probably won’t be able to remember this moment ever again…

“So I’ll work hard not to regret this moment either.”

I’m trying to become someone who can move forward without relying on memories.

The fog lifts.

I wake from the dream. What appears before my eyes again is the desolate grayish-white metal.

The lonely and cold Castle of Mechanisms surrounded by walls.

“It’s blue.”

But in my eyes, I can still see.

Her sky.

*     *     *

Crackle!

I melt away all the mechanical devices blocking our path with lightning.

Unlike before when I supported Titan from behind, now I lead the way myself, crushing everything.

I clear away everything before my eyes as I walk.

I melt new units with lightning before they can even draw their new weapons.

The power obtained in exchange for memories I can no longer even recall is a fragment of dreams.

The power that depicts that moment when the Saintess of the sky pacified the battlefield.

The holy magic of she who was beloved by the celestial gods, <Sky of Judgment>

Though it’s an isolated space, I can see the blue sky.

The pure white wings spread behind my back connect to the heavens like clouds dissolving into the sky.

Using something precious as fuel, I unfold the power of the one I admired most through God’s miracle.

“Whew.”

A sensation close to omnipotence.

My spine chills at the sense of holy power that doesn’t diminish no matter how much holy magic I unleash.

It’s an absurd power. Truly a power that could only make one arrogant.

But even this isn’t enough. The scenery I desire is higher than this.

I’ll need to become even stronger to accomplish what she couldn’t.

There’s still a long way to go.

“Therefore…”

I can’t afford to struggle against mere chunks of metal.

I clear the path. I surpass my usual limits again and again. I gradually internalize this sensation to become familiar with it.

As if taking notes so I won’t forget the scene I saw in the dream.

So I can remember even a little of this power that brought dreams into reality.

Crackle!

Power that could no longer be called lightning but rather a straight line of light sweeps away the mechanical devices.

The dull gray world brightens as if swallowed by dazzling light.

The ceiling disappears and the sky reveals itself. Now it’s a scenery visible not just to me but to everyone including Titan and Linea.

No matter when or what moment.

Even if Belial spread his wings and dyed the sky itself black. Before this power, the sky cannot be completely erased.

I keep raising the level as if I’ve just started running.

The pure white wings have already spread as if moving my body themselves.

The lightning permeating my entire body moves according to my will, turning all mechanical devices into scrap metal.

When the gap between destruction and advance itself disappeared like that.

Whirr!

Light with incomparably greater power than anything until now poured forth.

Converged light carrying intense heat and power flies in a straight line.

The advance stops for a moment as I fold my wings to block that attack.

It’s an absurd power.

This isn’t just an attack from simple chunks of metal.

Yes, we’re close.

To where Pinocchio is.

“Don’t come!!!”

Along with what sounds like a boy’s scream, the beam of light from earlier splits into dozens and rains down.

He’s noticed us. Yet he’s still pouring out attacks.

Could Pinocchio really have had a change of heart as I suspected?

Even if I can temporarily use the Saintess’s power, I don’t have enough strength to defeat a trial head-on.

Should we retreat or advance?

In the midst of that dilemma, I noticed the beams of light had stopped pouring down.

Pinocchio who was screaming not to come.

Attacks that stopped as soon as we stopped moving. Just warning shots.

If that’s the case…

“I might regret it if I turn back now without confirming the reason.”

I’ll follow Linea’s words.

I put aside all suspicions for now.

I’ll reunite Geppetto and Pinocchio.

I advance forward with only that purpose in mind.

The bombardment of light pours down several times.

I block each one while minimizing collateral damage as I advance.

The pace is slow.

But I advance steadily.

After breaking through the dazzling beams of light of various colors like that.

I arrive at my destination the moment I realize the space has widened.

The deepest part of Nidavellir.

Pinocchio’s self-evolution device that exists at its center.

“That’s right, Linea. You were right.”

The moment I took in that sight, I was convinced Linea’s words were correct.

The sight of a crying Pinocchio laden with all sorts of mechanical devices. The shadow reflected on the floor beneath him.

Seeing the shape of the shadow moving as if pulling the strings of a puppet, I understand everything.

Thinking everything would end well if I solved <The Corruptor>’s problem?

Thinking I could stop the harbinger announcing the flames of war?

What arrogant thoughts.

The demon I was trying to face was one who had hidden sparks one by one while lying low in the Empire for hundreds of years.

Would such a being have been any different before that? How could I be so sure he hadn’t done similar things before?

“If I had turned back now, I definitely would have regretted it.”

A chilling voice comes from Pinocchio’s expressionless mouth.

“Who are you?”

I shudder as if insects are crawling all over my body.

But I felt this sensation very recently too.

Thanks to that, I could understand.

Geppetto hadn’t lied.

Pinocchio hadn’t changed his heart either.

The weapons full of malice that we saw. The source of their nature was none other than.

“You prepared quite thoroughly, you damn bastard.”

<The One Who Is Everywhere>

Malice

The shadow of the King of Darkness, Belial.

That malice toward humans was devouring Pinocchio.