Elia received a strange envelope one morning.
There was no sender's name on it—only his own. And that was the only thing he still remembered.
The message on the card was simple, yet impossible to ignore. It said that as long as he followed the instructions to a place called "Seraphis" and solved the question there, he would be able to recover his lost memories.
He didn't know whether it was a scam. But for him, as he was now, even if it was a scam, there was no reason to refuse.
A few days later, he stood before the building.
It resembled a hotel in appearance—its structure orderly, its facade pristine, even carrying an almost overly deliberate sense of symmetry.
There was no sign at the entrance, no markings of any kind. Only the flow of people coming and going made it seem no different from an ordinary hotel. Yet every person's expression was unnaturally subdued, as if everything here operated under some unseen set of rules.
Elia stepped into the lobby. The receptionist didn't ask many questions. After confirming his name, they simply handed him a keycard.
"Your room is ready."
The tone was flat, devoid of any inflection, like a process that had been repeated countless times.
Elia didn't press further. He accepted the card and followed the directions to the elevator.
There was no sound during the ascent—not even the faintest vibration. The silence was unsettling.
When the doors opened again, the corridor was empty. The soft carpet swallowed all footsteps, leaving only the lights stretching endlessly toward the far end.
He stopped in front of the door bearing his room number and swiped the card.
The moment the door opened, a faint chill drifted out from within.
The room itself was not much different from a standard hotel—tidy, clean, with no unnecessary decoration. But as his gaze moved inward, it quickly came to a halt.
At the center of the room sat a bathtub that felt entirely out of place.
It wasn't an ordinary tub. There was no water inside—only a thin layer of dim light, slowly flowing. It resembled liquid, yet also something beyond comprehension.
Elia stepped closer. Only then did he realize that the light wasn't a reflection—it was emanating from within, as if the entire space was breathing.
He stood in silence for a few seconds.
And then, suddenly, he noticed something.
The entire room—had no mirrors.
Not even a single reflective surface existed.
That detail made him frown slightly.
The last line on the card surfaced in his mind.
—Please enter the dream.
Elia took a deep breath.
He didn't hesitate any longer. He stepped in.
The moment his foot touched that layer of light, it was as if the ground vanished beneath him. His body lost all weight, his vision was swallowed by radiance, and his consciousness began to sink.
———
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself suspended in midair.
A powerful wind surged from all directions. Before he could steady himself, the currents pushed him off balance. He looked down—an entire city sprawled beneath him, far more vast than he had imagined.
"This wasn't in the letter," he muttered.
In the next instant, the airflow intensified. He lost control completely, his vision spinning as the ground rushed closer.
There was no time to adjust his posture. Instinctively, he tensed his body.
With a loud bang, he crashed into the center of a plaza.
The impact reverberated through his entire body, as if every bone had been violently struck. Supporting himself against the ground, he slowly pushed himself upright, cold sweat forming on his forehead.
"So it still hurts…" he murmured.
The scattered crowd around him had come to a halt.
A few people stood not far away. They didn't approach—only watched.
Those gazes weren't merely curious.
They felt more like… confirmation.
"Another one who fell from above…"
someone whispered.
"Don't get too close," another voice added in a lowered tone.
Elia frowned slightly.
"Did you fall from up there?" a voice came from ahead.
He looked up and saw a blue-haired girl standing at a distance. She didn't approach immediately, only observing him with a slight frown.
"I guess you could say that…" Elia straightened, keeping his tone as steady as possible.
A man nearby walked over as well, his voice carrying a hint of ease.
"Seems this guest isn't quite used to entering the dream yet."
"Still, coming in from high altitude—that's pretty rare," he said with a smile.
He turned to the girl.
"Aix, give him a hand."
Aix didn't move right away. Instead, she looked at Elia—her gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
"Your condition… is indeed a bit different," she said softly.
She raised her hand.
A faint vibration appeared in the air, as though something invisible had been stirred.
In the next moment, musical notes manifested around her.
A song followed.
It wasn't loud, yet it fell directly into Elia's consciousness. It didn't feel like he was hearing it—rather, as if he was being touched by it.
His breathing gradually steadied. The tension in his body slowly melted away, and even the rhythm of his heartbeat seemed to be recalibrated.
"Relax. It'll be over soon," Aix said quietly.
As the song faded, that strange sensation receded as well.
Elia flexed his fingers. The heavy discomfort that had weighed him down was gone, replaced by an unusual lightness.
"Strange… but I can definitely move more easily now," he said under his breath.
Aix lowered her hand, her expression returning to calm.
"I just adjusted your mental state. You're not used to this place yet."
The man checked the time and spoke casually:
"Well then, we won't disturb you. Feel free to look around."
He paused, a faintly ambiguous smile touching his lips.
The two of them turned and left. The crowd gradually dispersed as well.
Elia remained where he stood, not moving immediately.
He could feel it.
Those gazes from before—had not all disappeared.
In fact, a few of them were still fixed on him.
End of Chapter