Leon stood alone under the vast night sky, the smoke from his cigarette curling up toward the stars. His eyes followed the smoke’s path for a second before settling on the sky. The stars were brighter than usual, but the weight on his shoulders made it difficult for him to appreciate them. He took another drag, the burning tip of the cigarette glowing brighter as he exhaled slowly.
“You shouldn’t be smoking,” Rona’s voice interrupted the silence, cutting through the stillness like a blade. “You’re still too young.”
Leon glanced at her, unimpressed, his expression unreadable. “What do you want?” he replied flatly, his tone devoid of the respect one might expect when speaking to a superior officer.
Rona’s brow furrowed slightly, a mix of irritation and concern flashing across her face. “That’s not how you should be talking to your superior, Leon.”
“Yeah, but you need me.” His voice was casual, as if stating a simple fact. “You know it as well as I do—without me, this operation doesn’t run nearly as smoothly. I’m too valuable to you.”
Rona sighed. She hated to admit it, but he wasn’t wrong. Leon’s intelligence was unmatched, making him the linchpin of the Yeager force. Even with his insubordinate attitude, she couldn’t afford to lose him.
“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But there’s more to talk about than just your attitude.” She stepped closer, her eyes sharp. “You used Omniadapter to fight Luna. You barely fought in Japan.”
Leon raised an eyebrow. “I authorized the use of Omniadapter to kill her,” he replied, his voice calm. “And besides, they didn’t need me in Japan. They had it handled.”
Rona’s eyes narrowed. “Malin would still be alive if you’d been there. You know that.”
Leon looked at her, and for the briefest of moments, something like guilt flashed in his eyes before he quickly masked it. “If I’d used my Palace, Luna would have killed me. You know how it works. I can’t afford to die—not now, not yet.”
Rona studied him. She could see the weariness in his eyes, the weight he carried even if he wouldn’t admit it. “I visited Amber today,” she said softly, changing the subject. “She was at Daisy and Nicholas’s graves.”
Leon didn’t react. “Okay.”
“You don’t care, do you?” she asked, her tone hardening.
“Not really.” His voice was emotionless, cold. “They died. I won’t visit them until this war is over.”
Rona shook her head. “Do you actually believe the war will end in our generation?”
Leon’s eyes drifted back to the stars. “Of course. Rex will end it.”
Rona folded her arms, frowning. “I know Rex’s potential is high, but do you really think it’s enough to win this Yeager blood war?”
Leon nodded, his voice steady. “After his fight with that Yeager rank four, his flux energy spiked higher than anyone’s—Adam’s, Malin’s, even the two Yeager ranks he’s fought. And now he has a Palace too.”
“A Palace?” Rona raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t tell you what it does?”
Leon shook his head, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Nope. He’s keeping it a secret. I hate secrets.”
Rona smirked. “Says the guy who keeps secrets about everything.”
Leon chuckled softly, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and crushing it beneath his boot. “Touché.”
Rona’s expression softened for a moment. She knew Leon’s mind was always working, always strategizing, always anticipating. But behind that genius was a person just as tired as the rest of them. She pulled something out of her pocket and tossed it to him.
He caught it, glancing down. “Rank two, huh?”
“Yeah. The smartest guy gets second place. The strongest takes first,” she said, her voice steady.
“Thanks.” He pocketed the badge without much ceremony, though there was a hint of appreciation in his tone.
“Get some rest, Leon. Not for me, but for Amber.” With that, Rona turned and began walking away, leaving Leon alone under the stars once again.
Leon watched her go, the weight of her words lingering in the cool night air. He sighed, looking at the sky one more time before muttering to himself, “I guess I’ll go to bed now.”
As he made his way back to his quarters, Leon couldn’t shake the thoughts swirling in his mind. Secrets. War. Rex. He didn’t like being in the dark about things, especially not about someone as crucial to their cause as Rex.
Rex… Leon couldn’t help but feel both admiration and frustration toward him. The kid had raw power, more than anyone Leon had ever seen. But there was something else—something Leon couldn’t quite put his finger on. And it unnerved him.
But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. Not with the war raging on, not with everything hanging by a thread. He shook his head, forcing the thoughts to the back of his mind.
Meanwhile, Rona made her way down a different corridor, her steps purposeful. As she passed by a series of doors, she couldn’t help but think about the others—about how everyone was dealing with the aftermath of Japan. Some were coping better than others, but they all carried the weight of loss in one way or another. They had to keep moving, keep fighting. There was no other choice.
Nur was in the lobby, slumped against the back of a chair. His eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion finally taking over as he drifted off to sleep.
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When his eyes opened again, he was no longer in the lobby. Instead, he found himself in a dark, cold prison cell. His breath hitched as he looked around, confused, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Where am I?” he muttered to himself, trying to make sense of his surroundings.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, her silhouette illuminated by a faint, ethereal glow. “Hello, Nur,” she said, her voice soft yet commanding. “I’m the Theon of Dreams.”
Nur tensed, instinctively backing up against the wall. “Where am I?” he asked cautiously, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.
“You’re dreaming, silly,” the Theon of Dreams replied with a playful smile. “I’m just here to help you with your dreams.”
With a snap of her fingers, the door to the cell creaked open. “Come on, follow me.”
Nur hesitated but eventually followed her, his mind racing. “How are you in my dreams?” he asked, still wary of the strange woman.
“Like I said, I’m the Theon of Dreams. I help people in their dreams, free of charge,” she said with a wink. “No need to worry, I’m not here to harm you.”
“What’s your name?” Nur asked, trying to make sense of the situation.
The Theon of Dreams smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Can’t tell you that. I help people with their dreams, but I don’t give out personal information. What I can tell you is that I come from a planet much like yours—probably about 800 billion light-years away.”
They continued walking through the dark, winding halls. Her body glowed faintly, the flux energy surrounding her creating a soft light that illuminated their path.
Nur couldn’t help but be in awe of her presence. “Her flux energy is… overwhelming,” he thought to himself. “It’s like she has more—or at least the same amount—as Rex.”
The Theon of Dreams seemed to read his thoughts, smirking. “I’ve never seen that guy’s dreams, but I highly doubt he has as much flux energy as me.”
“You can read my thoughts?” Nur asked, shocked.
“Yup!” she said cheerfully. “I can read anyone’s thoughts while they’re dreaming. It’s kind of my thing.”
She paused for a moment, then gestured toward a window that had appeared in the hallway. It was covered, blocking Nur’s view.
“Take a look,” she said, her voice softer now.
Hesitantly, Nur stepped forward, peering through the window. His breath caught in his throat when he saw what was on the other side—it was him, locked up in a cage, just as he had been when he was fifteen.
“What… what is this?” he asked, his voice tight with anger.
“You dream about your past every day,” the Theon of Dreams replied calmly.
Nur clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “I was experimented on by Luna herself—used as a guinea pig so she could test different flux energy types.”
The Theon nodded, her expression unreadable. “Yes. And because of that, you were gifted with the light element of flux energy. But she didn’t stop there, did she? Your limbs… they’re not your own. Your legs, your arms—they’re cybernetic. You’re half-machine, Nur.”
Nur stared at his hands, which in his dreams still appeared to be his own. But the truth was out there, no matter how much he tried to deny it.
“Let’s keep moving,” she said, continuing down the hallway.
Eventually, they reached another window.
Nur stared at the new window in front of him, dread pooling in his stomach. He hesitated before peering through it, unsure of what he would see this time. On the other side, he saw himself as a child, long before Luna’s experiments, before he had even joined the war. He was sitting in a small room, playing with a toy spaceship. His real arms and legs were intact, and his laughter echoed faintly through the glass.
The sight hit him like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t thought about those days in years, maybe even decades. Before everything was ripped away, when he was still whole, still… human.
“You miss it, don’t you?” the Theon of Dreams asked softly. Her usual playful tone was gone, replaced with a quiet understanding. “You miss what you lost.”
Nur clenched his fists again, his cybernetic fingers twitching. “What’s the point of showing me this?” he asked, his voice tight with anger and sorrow. “I can’t go back. I’m not that kid anymore.”
“No, you’re not,” she agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you should forget who you were. Sometimes, we lose parts of ourselves along the way, but it’s important to remember where we came from. That boy in the window? He’s still a part of you, Nur. He’s in there, buried deep under the layers of pain and steel.”
Nur turned away from the window, unable to look at the innocent version of himself any longer. “What’s your angle here?” he asked, his voice hardening. “Why are you showing me this? You said you’re here to help, but it feels like you’re just digging up old wounds.”
The Theon of Dreams sighed, stepping closer to him. “Dreams can be a way of healing, Nur. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to remind you of the parts of yourself you’ve shut out. Because whether you realize it or not, those parts make you stronger.”
Nur scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t need strength from my past. I’ve gotten stronger because I survived it.”
The Theon studied him for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “That may be true. But there’s more to strength than just surviving. Real strength comes from accepting every part of yourself—the good and the bad. The human and the machine. The pain and the hope.”
Nur didn’t respond at first, his gaze locked on the floor. The weight of the Theon of Dreams’ words settled over him like a heavy blanket, suffocating yet comforting in a strange way. His memories of the past were wounds he had kept buried deep inside, where no one could reach them, not even himself. And yet, here she was, pulling them out, forcing him to confront them.
“Hope?” Nur finally muttered. “What hope do I have left? Half of me isn’t even human anymore. I’m just a tool—a machine created to fight, to destroy. There’s no place for hope in someone like me.”
The Theon of Dreams tilted her head, her ethereal energy casting a soft glow around her. “That’s where you’re wrong, Nur. Being part machine doesn’t make you any less human. Your humanity isn’t defined by your limbs or your body. It’s defined by your choices, your emotions, your will to keep moving forward. Machines don’t hope, but you do.”
Nur clenched his jaw, his mind flashing back to the countless battles, the years of pain, and the cold, calculated efficiency that had been drilled into him. “I don’t even know who I am anymore,” he whispered, barely audible. “Everything I was… it’s gone.”
The Theon gently placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch surprisingly warm despite her dream-like presence. “You’re still Nur,” she said softly. “You’re still the boy who dreamed of flying among the stars. You’re still the young man who fought for survival. And now, you’re the warrior standing on the edge of a new future. But you have to decide what kind of future you want.”
Nur blinked, trying to process her words. A part of him wanted to reject them, to deny that there was anything left of the boy he used to be. But another part of him, buried deep beneath the layers of anger and pain, whispered that maybe, just maybe, she was right.
“What kind of future do I want?” Nur echoed, his voice hollow. He had never thought about that. His life had always been about survival, about fighting the next battle. The idea of wanting something beyond that felt… foreign. Unreal.
“That’s for you to decide,” the Theon of Dreams replied, her eyes twinkling with a mix of wisdom and kindness. “But whatever you choose, just know that your past doesn’t define you. It’s a part of you, yes, but it doesn’t control you. You do.”
Nur stood there in silence, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. The dreamscape around them felt distant now, like a backdrop to the internal war raging inside him. Could he really move past everything that had been done to him? Could he let go of the hatred, the bitterness that had fueled him for so long?
“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”
The Theon smiled softly, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. “You’re stronger than you think, Nur. Strength isn’t just about power or speed. It’s about facing your fears, your doubts, and choosing to keep going, even when it feels impossible.”
Nur stared at her, the weight of her words pressing down on him. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of something deep inside—something that felt suspiciously like hope. It was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there.
“Wake up, Nur,” the Theon of Dreams said gently, her voice beginning to fade. “When you open your eyes, the world will still be there, waiting for you. But remember what we talked about. Remember that you have a choice.”
Before he could respond, everything around him began to blur, the dream dissolving into a swirl of colors and light. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over.
Nur’s eyes shot open, and he found himself back in the hospital lobby, the cold, sterile air of reality rushing back to him. He blinked, disoriented for a moment, before he saw Rona standing in front of him, her arms crossed.
“Sorry for waking you up,” she said, her tone brisk but not unkind.
“It’s fine,” Nur muttered, rubbing his eyes. He sat up straighter, trying to shake off the lingering haze of the dream. But the Theon of Dreams’ words still echoed in his mind, like a distant melody he couldn’t quite forget.
Rona studied him for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small badge. She handed it to him, her expression unreadable.
“What’s this?” Nur asked, taking the badge in his hand. He stared at it, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the rank engraved on it.
“Rank three,” Rona said simply. “You’ve proven yourself, both in Korea and Japan. Leon told me what happened. And you ran at light speed—something that not many people can do, let alone master.”
Nur’s breath caught in his throat as he held the badge close, feeling its weight in his hand. Rank three. It was more than just a promotion—it was a symbol of everything he had fought for, everything he had sacrificed. But as he stared at it, a strange sense of unease settled over him.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, his voice low.
Rona nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I expect great things from you, Nur. Don’t let me down.”
“I won’t,” he said quietly. But as Rona turned to leave, Nur found himself staring at the badge again, lost in thought.
The dream, the promotion, the memories—they all swirled together in his mind, a tangled mess of emotions he couldn’t quite sort out. And then, for the first time in a long time, a thought crossed his mind that surprised even him.
“I’m going to apologize to Rex soon…” he thought, the words echoing in his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over him. “…Probably.”
For now, it was enough to know that he had the chance to make things right—to move forward. The rest, he would figure out in time.
As the night settled over the hospital, Nur closed his eyes again, this time not to escape, but to reflect. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like it was his to shape.