When we went to bed, sleep washed over me like a dark curtain. I dreamt of my mother, her dark clothes and golden jewelry that was left behind after she died. She didn't speak when she made her appearance in my dreams, only comforting me with a warm hug.

"Why mother, why did you leave me?" I sobbed into her, trembling from the pain I felt.

The demon that killed her is tightly connected to the Dreamer somehow, I'm sure of it. The blue mark carved into my chest and its own rose mark are similar, and it also needs my own to set itself free.

"I'll find out the origins of that demon and take revenge on whoever gifted that artifact to you!" I state with determination, still crying my eyes out.

This would usually be the moment where I wake up, but it seems my subconscious mind decided to venture elsewhere.

My mother disappeared, and I was left alone again, just like I've felt in my current, 3rd life. I knew I was dreaming, since my mind couldn't let go and rest, even while I slept. I didn't get much rest because of this constant state of tension I was in.

I was now in my hotel room, darker than it was in reality. I wanted to question my mind as to why I dreamt of the room I was sleeping in, but the answers revealed themselves.

I entered a calm state of apathy, sobering up from a dreamy state into a vivid one.

"What are you doing here?" I ask sharply, killing intent leaking out of me, even in my dream state.

"Already so vicious," the Dreamer notes, sitting on a chair beside Amon's sleeping body. It entered my dream, finally giving credit to the name its magic has.

If an entity like the Dreamer was truly in our room and this wasn't a dream, Amon's instinct would already have flared up and the entire building would be encased in hellfire, thus I could conclude this wasn't reality, although the figure in front of me wasn't a figment of my subconscious.

The Dreamer was wearing the body of Lucidel, with only his eyes being different from the rest of his usual appearance. When the Dreamer disguised itself in his body, it was more relaxed, sinking into the chair much more than the strict general would normally. Its glowing pink eyes were the only source of light in the room, slackly gazing at me from the other side of the room.

"What are you doing here, invading my dreams?" I snarl, with the Sunsword materializing in my hand.

"I'm here only to talk, child," it says while lifting its arms slowly in defense, showing no will to fight, at least for now.

I lean against the wall, not taking my eyes from it for a single second. A slight tug of its lips turns into a condescending smile.

While dressed in the body of someone dear to me, it looks down upon me.

Its glowing eyes close for a moment, basking the entire room in darkness. When they open, the neon pink eyes stare into my soul, confidently resting as if it weren't in any danger.

The Dreamer sighs, crossing one leg over the other. "I know you might hate me currently, which is reasonable," it starts.

I open my mouth slightly, thinking of how to respond to such a bold statement. Do I hate it? Is the sky blue when cloudless? Is black a dark shade? Of course I hate it, after all it's done. From killing me twice, to sending such a wretched person as Heric after me.

However, the Dreamer continues. "But we are connected, you and I... I harbor the answers to the secrets that you sought, and you hold the power that I want."

My anger releases with a burst of my aura.

"And you think I'd exchange now, make a deal with you after what you've done!?"

The Dreamer waves its hand, almost as if the aura pressure I exert can be swatted away like a fly. "Don't be hasty and listen to me. I didn't show up here to taunt you and ask for an unreasonable outcome. I've been alive for many of your lifetimes, with the prophecy of your little arrival in this world."

I listened to it, even though I despised every word—every letter that came out of its mouth.

"I knew exactly when you'd been born, since the entire universe locked itself in such a despicable way. 'The Messiah has been born!’ Everyone cheered, at least those who knew."

The Messiah. I've been named that already for some reason, even though I don't know from what exactly I would be saving this world, which has godlike powerhouses such as the Hands to protect it.

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The Dreamer tapped its fingers on the chair agitatedly, continuing its rant. "It just so happens to be that the Messiah fated to save the world or whatever, held something precious to me. You have the key to my freedom, nestled comfortably under that white shirt of yours."

I lifted my shirt, revealing the blue mark I've been cursed with, supposedly the mark of resurrection.

"And you want this so you could..?" I let my words trail off, but not allowing the Dreamer to finish my sentence. Instead, I firmly asked "Roam freely throughout this world? An entity as god awfully wicked as yourself?"

I saw its nose twitch and its brows furrow for a second, presumably out of frustration, but it did well to mask it, not allowing me to control the flow and emotions of this conversation.

"Although you might view me as evil, I'm not so one-sided. I've been trapped for a time period that you couldn't grasp your little head around, even if I tried showing you. All my life, I had to draw power from the shadows, influence the world that I couldn't experience for myself. If you lived through my eyes, you would also resort to using any tactic to obtain what you desire most, freedom."

Although its words were probably true, I couldn't bring myself to develop even a smidgen of sympathy towards it. After all its done, redemption wasn't possible.

It didn't show any emotion while talking about its origin and what it had to live through, only cracking a slight grin from the usual impassive expression.

"If you're asking for forgiveness—"

I felt the air thicken as it released its own aura, now much stronger than in my previous life. "Don't cross over the boundaries, kid. I'm not here to redeem myself, as I would've already taken that path if I truly wanted to. Don't think you're the one in control here, because you might stumble into another dead end."

This sent shivers down my spine for some reason. Although the Dreamer seemed angry by the way it was talking and flaking its aura, its face and tone didn't show any readable emotion. It felt like it was a mask on a doll, speaking through a pre-recorded tape. None of what would normally be present when speaking with a living being resonated from it.

"I'm here to strike a deal—not because I'm left with no choice and want to buckle under your diminutive aura—but because I want to make things easier. If you continue to chase after me in hopes of quenching your fears, it'll end just like last time," the Dreamer opens its neon eyes balefully.

Unknowingly, I take a step back, my arms tensed and ready for battle. I try and give no reaction to its jabbing words, remaining as deadpan as my boiling emotions allow me to.

"Playing a prince of ice in front of me won't get you far. I can read your emotions through my magic," it reveals with a cold and piercing gaze.

I felt like an infant lamb about to be slaughtered when faced with my nemesis. It wasn't like this before, as fear crept into my bones for some unknown reason. It might've been because I was looking at the uncanny image of my former teacher, whom I've adored so much, worn like a suit by the very thing I hate most.

I took a deep breath, exhaling all of my fear and worries through a method not only taught in the royal palace, but also Lucidel when he taught me how to approach fighting an enemy to death.

"You think I'll offer you my life so I could, what? Make things easier for you?"

The Dreamer shakes its head while closing its neon eyes. "No, Adam, I want to take your mark and incarnate into this world. You'll be very much alive and well, although without a possibility of coming back to the past once you die. I'll leave you and your loved ones alone, not ever interfering with your life again."

I hated my name exiting its mouth. It felt like an invasion of privacy and degrading to my name. In theory, its proposal sounded like a good deal, but in practice, I knew it was different. It wasn't so simple, and the Dreamer would've already tried to do it this way if it was. I couldn't trust this malevolent entity, as I knew its manipulative and evil nature.

I laughed, a slight chuckle in the beginning, but a full on mockery once it developed. "Do you really think I'd just go with your plan after all you've done? You'll remain trapped until I find you and end your life, no matter how long it's been."

Its expression shifted into a visibly fake sadness. "And here I thought you wouldn't waste your life away. I guess you really are just an unruly child, raised improperly by your fake mother—"

The Sunsword materialized in my hand and extended towards the slandering evil sitting in the chair, wearing the face of my former mentor. "Keep my mother out of your mouth," I commanded, releasing all of my aura while activating the .

The dream started shaking, but the Dreamer didn't move from his chair, nor show any signs of dismay. It simply shrugged its shoulders and sighed. "We'll see each other soon, Adam."

"Yeah."

With those words, the dream fell apart, and I woke up in my bed, grabbing the Sunsword out of the cube instinctively, lurching from my bed with my aura bursting around me, shaking the entire building and flickering the lights on and off. Sudden screams and gasps echoed out from other rooms as people felt the influence of my aura.

Amon woke up, raising his arms defensively, intense heat already circling his hands. "What the Hell!?"

As my aura faded and my sword escaped back into the spatial cube, Amon calmed his own magic down, but not his temper.

"Man, what are you doing!? Are you going to wake me up just because you had a nightmare!? I had such a nice dream about... I can't even remember now!!" he yelled out before smashing his foot into the wall and taking it down, revealing a screaming pale couple that ran out of their own room.

I chuckled at Amon's rage and his anger because I woke him up, rather than rage because I almost killed everyone in the entire building.

[I need to control my emotions better] I said to myself internally.

"I'm glad to see you up and awake," I comment, letting out a relaxed breath.

"I'm not glad to be awake!" Amon grumbles, laying down into bed and comically drawing his bedsheets over his head angrily.

During my dream, I hoped for Amon to wake up, as I felt extremely uncomfortable talking to the Dreamer alone. At this moment, I had a mixture of feelings. Amon felt like a friend, even though he was supposed to only be a weapon against the Dreamer. I sighed, rubbing my temples with my right hand.

Ignoring the giant hole where the wall separating our room and the next one was, I went back to sleep.