Chapter 229 – The Third Dream Layer: The Boiler Room
When Freddy vanished, Gideon immediately felt his tension ease.
It was as if the heavy storm clouds hanging over his head had finally dispersed.
At the same time—
Witnessing the "savior's" gruesome end, the so-called Springwood residents hiding behind him were driven into absolute terror.
Imitating Freddy's earlier movements, Gideon reached out and grasped the air.
With a gentle pull—
The dream's timeline leapt forward several months.
"Although the savior died, it drove the Church away before its end. The town returned to peace once more…"
Gideon nodded to himself.
"This version of the dream should keep those souls docile for a while."
He walked over to Bettice, Gale, and the others.
The restraints Freddy had left behind were gone, yet no one seemed to realize they were already safe.
"Are you planning to leave this place looking like you've just been beaten half to death?"
Gideon asked calmly.
The elites representing various factions were covered in injuries, their appearances pitiful.
Gale was in the worst shape.
Because she had been trapped on the scanning apparatus, her clothes were torn in several places, leaving her striking figure almost completely exposed.
"Uh… i-is it… dead?" she asked, finally reacting.
She imagined how she had looked before, and her clothing quickly restored itself.
The others followed suit.
"It's dead in this dream layer," Gideon replied, glancing at Gale.
He then explained Freddy's dream-layer structure to the group.
Naturally, he left out the part about gaining higher-dimensional authority.
He merely said that after purifying Freddy in this layer, his ability to shape dreams had improved somewhat.
After all, the real body of that murderer still existed—caution was necessary.
After hearing Gideon's explanation, everyone was deeply shaken.
"So you were testing that demon the entire time…"
Henry recalled the earlier church scene, when Gideon had openly mocked Freddy.
He had assumed it was just an attempt to provoke the enemy—after all, anger often led to mistakes.
But Gideon had already noticed something was wrong back then.
Why couldn't I think of that?!
Henry roared internally.
Beside him, Pence remained silent, his eyes filled with pure admiration.
That only made Henry more irritated.
A moment later, the unfortunate apprentice knight let out a yelp, clutching his aching head.
"Maybe the witches from a thousand years ago should've done things your way,"
Winona muttered, pouting slightly.
She recalled the dark chapter of witch history and realized that only resistance had ever earned them a place to stand.
"Maybe… the philosophy of the Rosicrucians was right after all?"
For the first time, her faith wavered.
At that moment, Lombarn approached. Placing a hand over his chest, he bowed slightly in the traditional manner of a wizard, offering his gratitude to the priest.
"Father Gideon, your composure in the face of danger commands my respect."
"Your actions once again prove that only by standing together can we survive the descent of true evil."
It seemed the veteran wizard had not abandoned the idea of uniting the factions.
Unfortunately, someone interrupted him immediately.
"Hmph. Since when did this become a joint effort?" Wilton sneered.
"It was clearly the Church that rescued you from that monster. If you're thanking anyone, it should be the benevolent and radiant Lord."
Bettice opened her mouth, then closed it again.
She simply met Gideon's eyes and lowered herself slightly in a small curtsy, silently expressing her gratitude.
"Father Wilton, that doesn't quite add up, does it?"
Gale stepped forward once more.
"It was Father Gideon who saved us. What does that have to do with the Church?"
Wilton let out a cold laugh.
"Is Gideon not a man of the Church? Were the relics he used not sacred artifacts?"
"Heh, interesting," Henry interjected pointedly.
"If I recall correctly, someone was shouting about reporting Father Gideon to the Vatican not long ago."
Wilton froze.
"Th–that was—!"
He struggled for a moment before forcing out,
"That was cooperation! Otherwise, how would the monster have believed Gideon's lies?!"
"Oh~" Winona drawled, her tone strange.
"I remember lying being explicitly forbidden by Church doctrine."
"Guess your rules aren't that strict—otherwise there wouldn't be so many illegitimate children running around."
Wilton's face flushed with rage.
"You—!"
But he couldn't refute it.
The stain of "illegitimate children" had haunted the Church for generations.
Bettice lowered her head in silence.
"Winona. Mind your words," Lombarn scolded.
Then he turned to the three church members.
"I apologize on her behalf."
Winona merely snorted and turned away.
Sensing the argument spiraling again, Gideon stepped forward.
"Everyone. Freddy hasn't been fully purified yet, and the trapped souls still haven't been saved. Let's focus on what matters."
"Father Gideon is right," Gale agreed quickly.
"We need to go deeper—into the next dream layer."
Now that she knew Mark's location, she had no choice but to go save him.
But not everyone agreed.
"Our objective ends here," Henry said, pointing at the town buildings.
"Going into a third dream layer is pointless."
"If you want to save your little lover, that's your business."
Lombarn silently agreed, but his position forced him to speak up.
"Father Gideon didn't abandon us earlier. We shouldn't abandon Mr. Mark either."
"What about splitting up?" Bettice suggested.
Seeing no consensus, Gale turned to Gideon.
"I'd like to agree with Sister Bettice, but…"
Gideon shrugged.
"As long as Freddy's true body exists, the influence over the real world won't fade—and the trapped souls won't wake up."
With that, the group had no choice but to enter the third dream layer together.
Using his authority, Gideon explained the method:
Intense stimulation.
Like the flood Freddy had used earlier—near suffocation.
Or explosions.
Or falling from great heights.
"It's the exact opposite of that movie,"
Gideon recalled with mild amusement.
"But… there's nothing nearby that could create that level of stimulation," Gale frowned.
Henry surveyed the town. Most houses were single-story.
From that height, he could fall backward and land unharmed.
Seeing their hesitation, Gideon smiled.
"I can create a suitable scenario."
He waved his hand.
The next instant, they stood at the edge of a cliff.
Something dark and viscous churned below.
As everyone leaned forward, a foul stench rushed into their noses.
"Father Gideon! What are you doing?!"
"Oh God—this is a sewage pit!"
"Jumping down would create free fall and intense sensory stimulation," Gideon said, rubbing his nose.
"It should send us to the next layer."
What he didn't expect was the rare moment of absolute consensus.
"Absolutely. Not. Happening."
Gideon was forced to dispel the mysterious liquid.
---
Third Dream Layer – The Boiler Room
Gideon snapped his eyes open.
Low ceilings.
Rust-eaten pipes.
Billowing white steam.
It matched his memories perfectly.
Gale, Henry, and the others awakened at the same time.
The boiler room was cramped, damp, and oppressive.
Simply standing there made one's chest feel tight.
Everyone instinctively drew their weapons, faces tense.
"Ah—!"
A scream echoed from the distance.
"Mark!" Gale recognized it instantly.
The corridors branched endlessly into darkness.
Her throat tightened.
In terrain like this, every corner could hide an ambush.
The others shared the same assessment.
But Gideon remained calm.
From his perspective, the boiler room held no secrets.
Freddy and Mark's positions were clearly visible.
For Gideon, entering this place was like coming home.
He stepped into the darkness.
The others followed.
---
On the far side of the boiler room—
Mark was running.
Fear filled his eyes as he glanced back repeatedly.
He was covered in wounds, blood staining his clothes.
Since waking up, he had been trapped here.
He didn't remember why.
Didn't even remember who he was.
Only one thought echoed in his mind:
Don't get caught.
So he kept running—
even though he didn't know what was chasing him.
After resting briefly behind a pipe, Mark forced himself onward.
He was exhausted—but stopping meant death.
Soon, a low, chilling laugh echoed through the darkness.
"You can run," a voice whispered,
"but there's nowhere to hide."
Metal scraped against metal, sparks flying.
Freddy walked leisurely through the corridor.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the faint dark-blue mist in the air.
Fear.
But it was growing thin.
The human ahead was nearing collapse.
Soon, he would be useless.
Freddy adjusted his fedora.
Something had gone wrong in the upper dream layer—but the separation between layers prevented him from knowing what.
Still, the second layer version of himself held nearly 80% of his true power.
One or two resisting humans wouldn't matter.
He decided to finish this prey quickly.
Then he stopped.
Someone stood at the far end of the corridor.
Not his prey.
And unfamiliar.
Curious, Freddy approached.
Then his eyes widened.
A body bag stood there.
Inside it—
was Freddy himself.
Aged. Emaciated. Clothes in tatters.
Three blades on the glove broken.
"Who are you?!" Freddy snarled.
Enraged that someone dared use his own tricks, he lunged—
—
The scene shifted.
---
Hathaway Psychiatric Hospital.
A door slammed shut.
A holy nun stood alone among criminals and lunatics.
As hands reached for her—
The door opened again.
Light flooded in.
"Get away from her, you filthy animals!"
A gunshot rang out.
"Sister Amanda—are you hurt?"
"I—I'm fine. Thank God you came."
Freddy's emotions surged.
"Disgusting 'happy ending.' Get out of my domain!"
He tore through guards, inmates, and the nun alike.
Blood drenched the hospital.
---
Springwood Orphanage.
"Freddy, I noticed you skipped dinner yesterday. I brought you some bread."
A gentle woman smiled.
Freddy beheaded her.
---
Another summer in Springwood.
"Morning news: A boy named Freddy Krueger rescued an endangered animal…"
Freddy shredded the newspaper.
"Only killing brings me joy."
---
Christmas. Boiler Room.
"Fire trapped twelve children—but a mysterious individual saved them all…"
"A nameless hero monument has been erected…"
Freddy sneered.
"Trying to trap me with dreams? Pathetic."
He slashed the scene apart.
Darkness returned.
"You'd better run before I find you," he licked his blades.
"Or I'll show you a real nightmare."
Then words appeared in the void:
You have been forgotten.
More words followed:
The asylum. The orphanage. The boiler room.
Your existence no longer matters.
The hospital reappeared—
This time, Freddy couldn't destroy it.
From now on, what you see is reality.
"No! Impossible!" Freddy screamed.
His blades passed through everything like air.
Time didn't jump.
Minutes passed.
Hours.
The world continued.
Freddy realized—
this place had become real.
---
Back in the boiler room—
Freddy stood motionless.
Eyes shut. Face twitching in agony.
Henry poked his shoulder.
"He… won't wake up halfway through, right?"
"As long as you don't interrupt him," Gideon replied.
Henry froze, then quietly withdrew his hand.
"What's happening to him?" Gale asked, supporting Mark.
Mark was conscious again, but weak.
Gideon smiled faintly.
"He's experiencing a real dream."
"In that dream, time is his only companion."
"And in that endless, monotonous life—
he'll slowly come to accept the truth."
"That he has been forgotten."