Arthur stayed lying there for a while longer, resting.
Once again, he 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.'
His 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, Arthur still didn't understand what conflict he was supposed to resolve. Supposedly, every nightmare was based on overcoming something, but so far he was completely lost. He hadn't interacted with a single person. Everything he encountered tried to kill him. He was starting to lose his mind.
Sitting down with his back against the trunk of a tree, pulling his knees up to his chest, Arthur looked up at the sky. It was a deep, clear blue, accompanied by completely white clouds. Depending on where he 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, Arthur couldn't help but think about what might be happening in the waking world while he was trapped in here. Holding back his intrusive thoughts, he let out a long breath. As he closed his eyes, he allowed his most persistent thought to escape.
"I miss my family."
***
Leaving the place where he had been lying, Arthur began absorbing all the bodies of the creatures to get himself back into good condition.
The process was always the same. The bodies turned into violet particles that were drawn toward him. Once inside his 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 he tried to control it, absolutely nothing happened.
Frustrated, Arthur started walking toward where the portal to the next zone should be.
Had hours passed? He didn't know.
After a while, he 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, he wouldn't even know these portals led to the next zones.
"Here we go," Arthur muttered.
Before crossing, he put on the new armor he 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 him invisible, but it made it much harder for others to focus their attention on him.
As he stepped through the portal, the sight that greeted Arthur was confusing.
Everything around him was made up of floating platforms, each one about the size of a small house. What immediately caught his 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 he 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 his vision, there was a portal that would take him to the final room of the nightmare.
Arthur 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 his instincts were screaming that red platforms might actually be the easiest.
With so little information, it was hard to draw conclusions, but this time Arthur decided to trust his 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 he stood, Arthur could identify several paths that would lead him 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 his theory was correct, this would be the safest route. If it wasn't, then this was where he 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 his theory was wrong and he chose the worst possible path, he could still switch routes along the way.
Still, Arthur had no idea what would happen when he 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, Arthur chose the second path, the most monotonous one.
Taking a deep breath, he headed toward the first platform. It was green. After taking a bit of distance, he ran and jumped toward it. Since it was close, he didn't need to use the ladder.
As soon as he landed, Arthur took a combat stance, ready for whatever might come.
At first, the platform didn't react to his presence. But as the seconds passed, he couldn't help but notice the green color along its edge slowly fading. Focusing on expecting the unexpected once the lights went out completely, Arthur held his dagger in his right hand, pointing forward, and lowered his center of gravity.
The lights went out entirely, and he began to feel vibrations in the Aether around him, as if it were making space for something to appear right behind him. When he turned around, a creature was forming.
The pressure it emitted made the hairs on the back of Arthur's neck stand up. He moved away from the center of the platform to create some distance while it finished forming. He considered attacking before it fully materialized, but it was far too risky. He 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.
Arthur's Aether sense reacted instantly, marking each of its movements before they happened.
The platform was small. Too small.
Arthur 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.
Arthur felt the vibration before the impact and dropped to the ground, rolling across the stone surface. The strike passed just above him and left a deep mark carved into the platform.
If that had hit him directly, he would have been dead.
Arthur sprang back to his 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 him. It was pressuring him, forcing him toward the edges.
The pressure increased, and with it, something else awakened inside Arthur. Residual Echo activated without warning. His movements became more aggressive, more decisive. The whip extended instantly, and he wrapped it around the creature's legs. Pulling hard, he forced them together, making it lose balance and fall forward.
That was his moment.
Before the creature could use its arms to stop itself from smashing face-first into the platform, Arthur jumped and landed directly on its neck. The dagger moved on its own, guided by an instinct that didn't feel like his, and plunged straight into its 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.
Arthur took a deep breath. Residual Echo faded, and silence returned.
He looked around at the other floating platforms, red, green, orange, waiting.
'Okay. That wasn't so bad,'
After taking a few minutes to rest, Arthur 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. Arthur's Aether sense reacted with a short, confused tremor, as if something large were adjusting itself just outside his 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 him.
Arthur's 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.
Arthur rolled to the side just as its claws struck where he had been. The stone cracked under the impact. He sprang up and lashed the whip toward one of its legs, trying to slow it down.
He missed.
The creature shifted direction midair, landing with brutal agility. Before Arthur could react, it lifted its head and opened its mouth, but it didn't bite.
The world exploded.
Arthur felt the Aether in front of him compress instantly, and an invisible force slammed into his chest. He was sent flying backward as if struck by something solid. He lost control of his body and crashed into the ground, bouncing until he ended up near the edge of the platform.
The air was ripped from his lungs. A deep, crushing pain, beyond anything purely physical.
Arthur coughed, struggling to breathe, while his Aether sense vibrated chaotically around him.
The wolf hadn't moved. It remained in the same spot, watching.
And in that moment, Arthur understood.
When the Aether compressed during the attack, he 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.
Arthur stayed still, ignoring the pain.
He closed his eyes.
For the first time, he didn't try to impose anything. He focused on the vibration still hanging in the air.
If the Aether had reacted to its intent…
Then maybe…
He could try as well.
Arthur began to feel the Aether around him tremble, as if struggling against a different force. Noticing this, he concentrated even harder on his intention. He completely ignored the creature in front of him, a dangerous move, yet surprisingly, the creature seemed to feel the same thing and remained still.
Arthur regulated his breathing, almost like meditating. He started to feel his entire body. Each breath carried air everywhere. He 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 him.
It felt as if something other than air was flowing through his pores.
With every passing moment, Arthur's body felt stronger, filled with a different kind of vitality. Each inhale pulled more Aether into him, while each exhale felt like his pores were widening. He began to sense something forming inside him, almost like veins spreading throughout his body.
But they weren't veins for blood.
They were channels.
Channels through which Aether flowed.
Arthur also felt pressure beneath his eyes, as if something were being etched into his skin. The sensation then spread through his arms before stopping abruptly.
And with that final realization, he heard something that shattered his concentration.
[Your Aspect has changed.]
[One of your Attributes has evolved.]
[You have acquired a new Attribute.]
Arthur didn't have time to react to anything else before the world went black.
He didn't know how long he stayed like that. He couldn't open his runes. He couldn't do anything. But when he finally came back to himself, the scenery around him had changed.
He was no longer in the platform zone. The place felt familiar, as if he had seen it before.
That was when Arthur realized he was in the throne room.
Somehow, after gaining that knowledge, his Aspect had changed, one of his Attributes had evolved, and he had acquired a new one. He didn't have to be a genius to tell which Attribute had changed. His [Born of Aether] Attribute had clearly evolved due to his increased insight into Aether, and perhaps the nature of that knowledge was what granted him the new Attribute.
Completely absorbed in his thoughts, Arthur failed to realize that he was still, very much, inside the nightmare. A fatal mistake that, under different circumstances, could have gotten him killed.
What snapped him out of his spiral of thoughts was the sound of someone clearing their throat.
Hearing that, Arthur jumped to his feet and took a defensive stance, ready for any threat. As he scanned the room, he realized the sound came from the figure seated on the throne.
When Arthur finally focused his vision on him, he 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 Arthur's attention the most was the crown. It floated a few centimeters above the figure's head, as if it dared not touch his skin.
He was truly a king.
The figure… the person… was looking at Arthur with disappointment, the kind someone gives a brother or friend after they've made a mistake.
Arthur took a deep breath to calm himself, clearing his throat as well and gathering his courage to speak.
But before he could, the figure spoke first.
"You're late."
The words fell flat, without emphasis, yet carried a weight that ran through Arthur's entire body.
He froze for a moment.
'Late?'
'What the hell does he mean?'
"Late?" Arthur asked, unable to hide his 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?"
Arthur swallowed.
The urge to argue was still there, but something in the figure's voice made him stop. He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and nodded.
"…Yes."
Before Arthur could add anything else, the figure spoke again.
"I am Grey. King Grey."
Arthur felt a knot form in his 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…" Arthur started, but stopped. He didn't even know where to begin questioning that.
"I understand," he said at last, even though he knew it wasn't true.
Grey watched him in silence for a few seconds.
"You didn't understand what I said, did you?"
"No," Arthur admitted. "I didn't understand anything."
"Good," Grey 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?" Arthur frowned. "I thought the whole nightmare was the trial."
"No. And yes," Grey 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 Arthur 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 Arthur's 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, Arthur 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?"
Arthur 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 Grey started questioning him, Arthur took the time to check the changes to his 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 Arthur, expectant.
"Well," he finally said. "Let's start simple. Tell me, Arthur… what is Aether?"
Arthur didn't answer immediately.
'First, how did he know my name? Second, what is Aether…'
He closed his eyes for a second and let the sensations speak for themselves. He 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 his feet, in the air, even in the void between things. It didn't distinguish between organic and inorganic. Everything shared it.
Arthur opened his eyes.
"Aether is part of reality itself," he 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 Arthur 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," Grey said without hesitation. "And which Attribute did you gain?"
"Realmheart," Arthur 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?"
Arthur shook his head softly.
"No. The correct word would be… guide it."
A faint curve appeared at the corner of Grey's lips.
"Correct," he affirmed. "Now tell me. Which branches does the Edict of Existence govern?"
This time, Arthur hesitated.
'I don't know.'
He took a few more seconds than he would have liked.
"Life and death," he finally answered.
Grey raised an eyebrow.
"Only that?" he said. "I'll give you one more chance, kid. Think carefully before you answer."
Arthur's pulse thudded in his 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," Arthur 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," Arthur 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?"
Arthur looked at him, hesitated for a moment… and nodded.
"Yes."
Bringing a hand to his chin, he 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.'
He lifted his gaze.
"You said there were more branches of Aether," Arthur 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 Arthur's spine.
"So…" he murmured. "Could I control all of that in the future?"
"Yes," Grey replied. "But only if you obtain the necessary knowledge to awaken the Attributes that allow it."
Arthur couldn't stop a small, almost dangerous smile from forming on his face.
'That opens up far too many possibilities.'
Grey noticed it immediately.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"No," Arthur 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. I assume your first nightmare is different because I made a deal to modify it. And this conversation exists because of that."
Arthur's mind filled with noise.
"Wait," Arthur said, frowning. "A deal with who? And you said you assume my nightmare is different… don't you know that for sure?"
Grey sighed.
"It doesn't matter who I made the deal with. All I'll tell you is that they are the creator of the spell." He took a breath before continuing. "I don't know what normal nightmares are like. While I was alive, the spell wasn't so widespread… and I was never part of it."
Arthur felt as if the ground vanished beneath his feet.
"What do you mean, while you were alive?" he exclaimed.
Grey held his 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.
'He could ask what Grey meant, but… that can wait.'
Arthur exhaled slowly.
What would be the most valuable thing he could get from this?
"Can you teach me more about the other branches of Aether?" Arthur asked.
"No."
He 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."
Arthur nodded slowly.
"That makes sense," he admitted. "I understand."
"Good," Grey said. "Then it's time for our sparring."
"What—?"
Arthur didn't get to finish the sentence before the world went black.
When he regained consciousness, Arthur was in a completely white space. There were no walls. No ceiling. No visible floor beyond where his feet stood. Everything stretched endlessly into infinity.
Grey stood in front of him.
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," Grey ordered.
"I don't have one," Arthur replied. "I didn't obtain any in the zones."
Grey appeared in front of him in an instant and placed a hand on his shoulder.
An electric current surged through Arthur's entire body. He recognized it immediately. Grey had transferred a Memory to him.
"This will be enough," Grey said.
[You have received a new Memory: Dawn's Ballad.]
Instinctively, Arthur 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.
Arthur made a few test swings.
The balance was perfect.
Neither heavy nor light. It responded exactly as his body expected it to, as if it had been made for him.
He took a deep breath and lowered his center of gravity.
"Whenever you want," Arthur 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. Arthur 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 Arthur to constantly readjust his stance.
Residual Echo activated instantly.
Arthur's movements became faster, more aggressive. He attacked without pause, mixing slashes and thrusts, searching for any opening. Grey blocked everything with insulting ease. Sometimes he deflected Arthur's blade with the slightest movement. Other times he simply stepped half a pace aside, and Arthur's attack found only air.
They exchanged dozens of blows.
Arthur was giving it everything.
Grey was holding back.
He realized it when, even with Residual Echo active, he couldn't pressure Grey at all. Angle, speed, intent—it didn't matter. Grey was always one step ahead.
In the blink of an eye, Arthur's sword was knocked aside. He felt a light tap against his chest and lost his balance. When he tried to react, he was on the ground, Grey's sword stopped mere centimeters from his 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 Arthur's vision returned, he was back in the throne room, as if none of it had ever happened.
Pulling himself together as best he could, he 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 Arthur could react, Grey added:
"Now I'm going to explain what happens next."
Without giving Arthur time to say anything, Grey rose from the throne and began walking toward him. With each step, the pressure in the air increased slightly—just enough to put Arthur's instincts on edge.
"A map with the locations of the next relics you must obtain will be etched into your soul," Grey 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."
Arthur frowned.
"A map… in my soul?"
"Exactly."
Grey 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 Arthur's chest.
'There's something I still don't understand. What's the real purpose of all this? Why so much responsibility? Why me?'
Before Grey came any closer, Arthur gathered enough courage.
"Wait."
He raised his hand instinctively.
Grey stopped.
"Why me?" Arthur asked, his voice more tense than he expected. "What's the purpose of all this? What's so important that you had to make a deal to modify my nightmare? 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." Arthur interrupted him, losing his 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 Arthur 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?"
Arthur's eyes widened. He opened his 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?" Arthur asked with difficulty. "Am I reincarnated?"
"Yes to both," Grey 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."
Arthur 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."
Arthur 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," Grey explained. "That's why I had to make a deal. 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," Arthur said bitterly. "To understand Fate, I need knowledge of Aether?"
"Something like that," Grey replied.
Arthur clenched his teeth.
"I still don't fully understand why me."
Grey looked straight at him.
"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."
Arthur's stomach sank.
"That's enough," Grey added. "Time is running out."
Before Arthur could react, Grey appeared in front of him in an instant. He placed his right hand on Arthur's 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 Arthur heard clearly.
After that, his vision faded.
Darkness. Complete darkness.
He was floating, hovering in an utterly reflectionless black. Whether he was drifting or suspended in place, he couldn't tell.
All he knew was that there was nothing else—no sound, taste, smell, or touch in this sea of perpetual darkness.
At first, it was peaceful. He felt like he 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 him.
However, as time passed, he remembered more of what he was. He was human… with hands, feet, and a body.
Yet he couldn't feel anything. He tried curling his fingers and toes. He tried flaring his nostrils, opening his mouth. Nothing. He couldn't even feel himself breathing.
Fear took hold quickly. It didn't come with the physiological signs he 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 Arthur felt a slight prickle on his… arm—yes, his arm—that he jolted out of his stupor.
He had felt something for the first time. A few moments later, another prickle followed, this one spreading across his chest. Soon, those prickles escalated into sharp, piercing pains—but Arthur didn't care. Even pain was verifiable proof that he existed outside his consciousness.
He waited for the next wave of pain. The sensation of scalding needles digging into every single pore would have driven him insane under normal circumstances, but after the subjective eons of literal nothingness, he welcomed every increasingly agonizing surge of burning, piercing pain across every millimeter of his body.
More exciting still, his vision began to brighten until the void around him grew lighter and lighter.
Arthur didn't know how much time passed, but only when his entire vision turned white did he begin to feel his body as his own again. Though… different. As if he were a stranger inside himself.
When he finally managed to open his eyes and felt the cool, sticky moisture of saliva against his cheek, he knew he had passed out.
As Arthur fully regained consciousness, a sound caught his attention. Someone was clearing their throat, saying something he couldn't quite make out. He lowered his gaze and noticed a figure in front of him… walking toward him.
Panic surged through his body before he could stop it. He began struggling against the gurney he was strapped to, breathing erratically. After several seconds, his ears finally picked up the voice again.
"Art?"
Arthur froze.
That voice…
Forcing himself to breathe, he lifted his gaze. In front of him stood a man in his early forties, with ash-brown hair, deep blue eyes, and strong, defined eyebrows. Recognition hit instantly, and Arthur cursed himself for not realizing it sooner.
It was his father.
"Dad?"
A huge smile spread across his father's face as he hurried over to unstrap him.
"Arthur, son… you're back!"
Arthur still felt weak, but seeing him there pushed all the pain into the background.
"Of course I'm back," he replied with a tired smile. "I promised Ellie, didn't I?"
His father 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, he reached for the communicator his father had left on a nearby table. He activated the front camera almost on reflex.
And then he saw himself.
"—"
A small cry escaped him before he could stop it. It was short and sharp, more like a surprised exhale than a real scream, but enough to make his chest tighten.
That wasn't him.
Or… not entirely.
His hair, which had always been a reddish-brown inherited from his mother, was now pale blond, almost silvery under the room's light. His eyes… his eyes were the worst part. Where there had once been a deep blue like his father's, there was now an intense yellow—strange, with a feline gleam that didn't seem entirely human. Even the shape of his face had changed. His jaw was more defined, his cheekbones sharper, his features more pronounced, more mature… more alien.
Arthur lowered the communicator with trembling hands.
'What the hell? I look just like Gray!'
A few minutes later of silence and complete shock the door opened.
His father entered, accompanied by a nurse. Both paused briefly when they saw him, then moved closer to the gurney, forming an improvised triangle around him.
The nurse spoke first, her voice gentle and professional.
"Arthur, how are you feeling?"
"Still a bit sore," Arthur answered honestly, "but… overall, okay."
His father nodded, visibly relieved, though his gaze quickly returned to Arthur's face.
"And… well," he said hesitantly, "I guess I have to ask. What happened to your… change in looks?"
Arthur shook his 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," Arthur and his father said at the same time.
She paused briefly before continuing.
"Although, in your case, it's… different."
She looked at both of them. "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 Arthur's lungs. He brought his hands to his face again, resting his elbows on his knees.
He felt a firm hand settle on his shoulder.
"Arthur," his father said steadily, "that doesn't matter anymore. You're here. You came back. And you're okay."
Arthur took several deep breaths until the tight knot in his chest loosened slightly.
"…You're right," he 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 Arthur's attention.
"How long until the Winter Solstice?" he asked, lifting his head.
His father answered without hesitation:
"Two weeks."
Arthur nodded slowly.
Two weeks…