Jeanne experienced an exceptionally strange dream.
In her vision, she walked through a city swallowed by a torrential rain of artillery fire. The air was heavy with the lamentations of agonizing souls, as if the entire settlement had been dragged down into an abyss of horror.
At first, she assumed she had simply drifted back into one of those strange, surreal dreamscapes she so frequently encountered. But as the terrifying reality took shape before her eyes, she realized this was no mere illusion—this was a disaster actively unfolding in the mortal realm!
Everywhere she looked, horrifying structures of wild Originium tore through the streets, sprouting directly from the stone as if planted in the earth itself. Someone had dropped dirty bombs filled with active Originium straight onto a residential mobile block! What kind of monstrous, depraved mind could commit such a dark act?
Jeanne moved down the ruined thoroughfare, feeling a thin, imperceptible veil separating her from the realm before her. Nothing she did here could alter reality; she could only stand by as a helpless spectator, watching faceless citizens writhe in agony.
First, I need to figure out where this is... Jeanne thought frantically, racing through the burning streets. She desperately searched for any landmark before her consciousness faded, praying for even a minor clue—a city name, a provincial emblem, or a regional mark.
She covered vast distances, yet much of the urban grid lay shattered beyond recognition, reduced to rubble beneath the endless bombardment. The area had become a desolate garden of Originium, leaving no doubt about the tragic fate awaiting the trapped civilians.
It defied imagination what level of deep-seated hatred could drive one faction to inflict such cruel, agonizing torment upon another. It was not merely about defeating an enemy; it was about forcing them to suffer until their very last breath.
As Jeanne hurried down the ruined avenues, the echoes of grief weighed heavily on her heart. Suddenly, a massive explosion erupted in the distance, sending a roaring column of flame high into the sky.
Wait... that fire... Jeanne stared at the raging inferno, a strange sense of familiarity washing over her. She was certain she had seen those exact, violent flames somewhere before.
No, now isn't the time to get distracted! She forced her mind back to the immediate task, scanning every charred wall and broken pillar until her eyes caught a clear, undamaged metal plaque hanging near a doorway.
She could feel her presence in the dream fading fast. Summoning every bit of her remaining strength, she sprinted toward the sign to read the inscription.
Near the bottom of the plaque rested a crest Jeanne recognized instantly—a sleek, soaring tower logo. Beneath it, a row of neat text identified the building's purpose:
Rhodes Island Office—County Hillock Branch
The next second, Jeanne snapped awake from the dream.
Before her mind could fully register her surroundings, she sat straight up with a sudden, explosive burst of force. Glancing out the narrow slats of the wooden barn at the faint morning light, she realized she was still resting on the straw bed. It had all been a dream.
Sitting up, Jeanne pondered the revelation, muttering softly under her breath, "It seems... that dream was far more than just a simple nightmare..."
"I don't give a damn what kind of dream you had," a voice growled from below the bed, dripping with pure malice. "But if you don't give me a satisfactory explanation right now, you are a dead woman today!"
A head covered in messy straw popped up from the side of the hay bed. Talulah rose from the floor, clutching her head and glaring daggers at her friend.
It turned out that when Jeanne had bolted upright in her sudden epiphany, her raw strength had accidentally sent Talulah—who had been sleeping soundly while holding onto her—flying straight onto the hard floor!
Seeing the scene before her, Jeanne realized what had happened. But in a split second, her relief transformed into sheer terror. She had no idea how to handle a furious, morning-groggy Talulah—especially when she was the sole cause of that fury.
"Uh... good morning?" Jeanne offered a weak, nervous smile.
Hearing those words, the murderous glare in Talulah's eyes intensified. The desire to throttle someone was impossible to hide!
"Listen... this was a tragic misunderstanding! Hear me out—no, wait, let me explain! There's a logical reason for this, just give me a second!"
Faced with the slowly approaching Draco, a guilty Jeanne backed away across the straw, watching in terror as Talulah's expression grew increasingly dangerous.
"Excuses are useless. Prepare to face your judgment!"
"Aaaaaah!"
The morning sun rose to the sound of Jeanne's desperate cries.
A short while later, Talulah sat on a wooden bench, staring down at her scaled tail—which was now covered in fresh tooth marks. She genuinely wondered when her friend had developed a habit of biting people during a brawl. And more importantly, how on earth did she manage to sink her teeth through hardened dragon scales?!
Shaking the thought aside, Talulah buttoned up her coat, combed the stray straw out of her dark hair, and turned to look at Jeanne. The girl was currently sitting in a corner with a pouting, aggrieved expression, looking for all the world like an innocent victim who had just been kicked out of bed.
"Alright, explain yourself," Talulah demanded, taking a seat across from her. "Was it because you're used to sleeping alone, or did you actually have a nightmare? Did you really have to hit me that hard? My ribs are still throbbing!"
She rubbed her side, right where Jeanne's stray elbow had landed during the scuffle. Feeling the lingering ache, Talulah couldn't help but marvel that she had survived the blow at all.
"There's a real reason for it!" Jeanne explained defensively, her tone turning serious. "You could call it a nightmare, but the truth is, after I fell asleep last night, I experienced a very strange, vivid vision..."
Jeanne went on to describe the horrific catastrophe she had witnessed in County Hillock. As the details unfolded, the casual annoyance on Talulah's face vanished, replaced by a grim, focused sternness.
"Do you believe this was merely a bad dream, or was it a divine revelation?" Talulah asked. Deep down, she found it hard to believe a simple dream held any real weight; if anyone else had claimed such a thing, she would have dismissed them as a sleep-deprived fool.
However, Jeanne had proven time and again through unbelievable miracles that she was far from an ordinary girl. If she claimed a dream carried weight, there was a very real chance it foretold a dark truth.
"I feel it might be something currently unfolding, or perhaps a tragedy set to happen in the near future," Jeanne murmured, resting a hand on her forehead. "The revelation is warning me that a terrible disaster is looming over that place. As for how to stop it... that depends on the choices we make."
"County Hillock..." Talulah repeated the name slowly, her brow furrowing. "I have no idea where that city is located. If it isn't somewhere nearby in Victoria, traveling there on foot or by vehicle might mean we arrive too late. Our best option is to contact Rhodes Island as soon as possible."
The name sounded vaguely familiar to Talulah, though her memories of it were blurred—perhaps something she had casually skimmed over in a report back at Rhodes Island.
Just as they were discussing their next move, a gentle knock sounded on the barn door. The elderly farm couple entered carrying a tray of fresh bread and warm beast milk to host their unexpected guests.
"We don't have much in the house, but if you need more bread, I can fetch another loaf," the old man offered warmly. "It's all homemade, so please don't stand on ceremony!"
The lonely couple was clearly delighted to have visitors. Jeanne and Talulah expressed their heartfelt thanks before accepting the food.
"Think nothing of it, it's plain fare," the old woman smiled, sitting down to chat. She listened with wide-eyed wonder as the two girls described the grand foreign cities they had visited during their travels.
"To think such magnificent places exist in this world," the old man sighed with a look of genuine envy. Hearing Jeanne describe Laterano—a gleaming land of peace and abundance—was like listening to a fairytale he could never dream of seeing in his lifetime.
"By the way, where are you two headed on this trip?" the old woman asked curiously.
Without giving it much thought, Talulah blurted out the name off the top of her head: "County Hillock."
"County Hillock?" the old man repeated, nodding slowly. "To be honest, there isn't much for tourists to see over there."
He went on to share what little he knew about the town, mentioning how the local Taran populace had grown increasingly restless lately, and how neighboring villagers felt a tense, suffocating atmosphere hanging over the entire district.
Hearing his description, Jeanne instantly connected the dots regarding the explosion in her dream. The tragic conflict clearly stemmed from the deep-seated ethnic hatred between the Tarans and the Victorian authorities. Yet, considering both groups resided within Victorian borders, driving the tension to the point of shelling a town seemed utterly monstrous.
Sitting side by side in the dim barn, Jeanne and Talulah fell into a heavy, silent contemplation.