'What the hell? Dimensional ship?'
A dimensional ship was strictly a military vessel. It wasn't commercial like the skyships. Its main function was to traverse to the Shattered Realm through the fabric of reality. Using this method, it could also teleport anywhere in the world.
Only a handful of entities were licensed to use it.
'What on earth would a dimensional ship be doing out here?'
Luciel subconsciously summoned Dawn. In a situation like this, there was no choice between flight and fight. You just had to stand your ground and pray for good luck.
Then, a thin fracture split the sky open above the forest, widening unevenly like a wound being pried open. Colors he'd never known existed bled through the pale sky. Instead of an azure blue, he saw a bruised spectrum of violet and molten gold, as if the sky had been turned inside out and muddied by corruption.
"Luciel!"
He turned to Bambi. She had already brought out her signature humongous red bow — her favorite weapon Relic.
"Yeah."
"Cover your whole body with Echo Essence. Do it now! You won't get out in one piece without a third layer."
Luciel's face scrunched up.
"Third lay—how do I—"
He never got the rest out.
The world dropped. The pressure from the fracture came like a wrecking ball. It pressed against his eardrums, his ribs, the back of his eyes. His knees threatened to buckle.
Bambi turned around in horror. She shouted as loud as possible.
"Dammit! Extend your consciousness!"
'Extend… extend…'
Luciel tried to hold on to his train of thought as his insides churned, feeling a strong urge to vomit and pass out. His head was ringing; his vision blurred, making him see the colors bled into each other like wet paint. Bambi was saying something, but her voice felt distant and muffled. Each breath he took was sharp and shallow, like his lungs were punctured.
'Hah… fuck.'
Blood dripped from every orifice of his body.
His legs finally gave out. Before he hit the ground, Dawn drove itself into the floor beneath him, and he caught himself on the hilt, kneeling.
Luciel vaguely saw the figure of Bambi running towards him.
"—u—el!"
Being crushed like this wasn't pleasant at all. If he were still a mundane human, death would be the kinder outcome.
But like what people had always said, 'What doesn't kill you… makes you want to return the favor.'
Since Luciel didn't know what the third layer was or how to form it, he had to resort to the alternative.
He took a deep, painful breath, and dug deep into his Soulscape. Then, with all his willpower, he doused himself in scarlet flame, both inside and out.
"Aaaaargh!"
Luciel screamed in agony while his body burned. It was as painful as the first time in the dream, but this time, the pain was real. He didn't know what had compelled him to make such a bold move.
Instinct? Stupidity?
Either way, his body and mind had to suffer from double the torment. But somehow, Luciel felt more alive than ever. He breathed even faster, circulating the Echo Essence to push out more flame and heat. He couldn't see Bambi anymore, or anything for that matter.
The sound was gone, too. The only noise in his world now was the crackle of fire.
Gradually, nothing remained but him and the flame.
Did he feel fear? Did he feel incompetent?
No. Never. The first memory of his was him being beaten almost to death. The first victory of his was him stealing enough food for a week. Every day after that was borrowed time, and Luciel had never once wasted it on fear. Didn't he already die and come back to life?
So the pressure, the burning sensation, was just another futile attempt to kill him. And he had a long history of disappointing those who tried.
His fingers started to loosen around Dawn's hilt. He willed his fingers to tighten, but his body didn't listen. The sound of fire grew quieter and thinner.
Luciel breathed out, and the flame parted.
The last thing he saw was a giant metal mass above the forest, and the sky stitching itself shut.
***
"Not again!"
Luciel found himself in yet another unfamiliar space against his will.
'At least I'm still alive… for the second time.'
His back pressed against a hard and frozen ground, the cold seeping through his clothes and into his bones like needles of ice. Yet after the searing agony of being burned alive and the crushing weight that had flattened him like a bug, this gnawing chill felt almost comforting.
Lying on a bed of cold snow, Luciel looked to his right. A silent expanse stretched infinitely toward the horizon. He turned to the left. There stood a mountain range so imposing it wore the clouds as a hat and white snow as a mantle.
He sighed, eyes shut in rebellion. He wished for this tranquility of snow falling unto his eyes and lips to last a little longer than usual.
'A Resonator's life is more challenging than I thought.'
For a while, Luciel lay on the snow, and nothing happened. The dream didn't force a path on him like last time, which was nice.
He didn't recognize any of the structures or natural terrain — it could have been the Eastern Bloc, though he had never been there and had nothing to compare it to.
Time passed. Luciel started to feel uncomfortable by the idleness, so he pushed himself upright, although it took more effort than it should have. His limbs were stiff from the cold, which had worked its way deep into his joints while he lay motionless.
He rolled onto one side first, then pressed his fist into the snow for leverage, and rose to his feet in a slow, cranky motion, like a man piecing himself back together one part at a time.
He stood. The biting wind gnawed at his face. He figured the frostbite would be brutal if he didn't find shelter soon, but surprisingly, but there was no pain and numbness. His body reacted to the cold, but any sensation was nulled.
Luciel tried to summon Dawn in his hand, and it shimmered into existence in his grip.
He didn't expect it would work within the dream — though not entirely surprised. He turned it slowly, watching the pale light glint along its edge.
Though… the more he studied the static terrain and the uneventful stillness around him, the more he doubted this was a dream. He had autonomy within the place, and it couldn't hurt him if it tried.
'This isn't a dream.'
The realization settled over him. Luciel took mental notes of everything around him — the mountains, the cold, the snow beneath him, the soothing embrace…
'Embrace.'
His eyes widened, and his heartbeat quickened. He raised Dawn to his chest and held it there. He stared at the sword in silence, trying to grasp something that lingered at the edge of his mind.
Then he remembered.
'Was this your doing, Dawn?'
Luciel recalled one of the Stars that Dawn possessed, [Eternal Embrace]. A deep affection for its master, and a defiant will to protect them — he was certain this world was the sword's doing.
He didn't know exactly how, or what catalyst could have enabled a sword to create its own world.
'Or maybe I have it the other way around.'
Based on all the experiences he'd shared with the sword, he came up with an educated guess: Dawn was an extension of his soul; if this was its world, then it was, by extension, his soul's world.
With a deep breath, Luciel submerged within his inner depth and searched for his Soulscape to test this theory. He stood still as a rock while letting the breeze brush his auburn hair. Despite that, all he could see was never-ending darkness and not a single spark or light.
'The Soulscape's not there.'
He had guessed it correctly. He couldn't find it because this entire realm was his Soulscape, and he was in it already. It must have been Dawn that built this sanctuary for him through the power of his soul.
"Thank you."
But it was time to wake up.
Having recognized his soul, Luciel effortlessly willed the snow to retreat with a swipe of his hand. The snowy mountains dissolved into nothingness, too. He felt like a god shaping his own world.
When everything settled and the sky cracked, he returned to a familiar place: the black waters beneath his feet, the circle of light, and his miniature star at its center. The ritual began in earnest: the water sunk and folded, the star flew at his chest and vanished.