—Do you believe me?—the surprised child replied.

—It would be complicated not to...—Apolo ironically replied, looking at his past self with quite some consternation. Many times, one is tempted to reflect on what they would say to themselves if they had the opportunity to travel back in time. While the answers varied, they all led to the same fundamental question: since it was impossible to do so, this cruel rule of destiny remained unbroken in this world. Unfortunately for the young noble, this was nothing more than a simple dream. However, the strangeness of the situation Apolo found himself in had led him to a point where he really had to at least pretend that he could.

The first thing that came to Apolo's mind was to scold himself, telling the child what he had been saying to himself in his mind since he discovered the truth: Don't be such a fool as to let that woman get away with it. Go, get out of the bathtub, and smile at the new day's sun illuminating another beautiful day of life.

But perhaps, and only perhaps in Apolo's mind, that was something better left to be said to himself and not to a frightened child who didn't understand what was happening right now or why things always slipped out of his control and ended up this way. If he approached the matter from the perspective of this child, or rather from the perspective with which he viewed things in the past, then the words the young noble would want to hear at this moment would probably be different, such as:

—Although sadly, it was your hands that killed your friend: Am I wrong, boy?

—No, it wasn't me, it was the ring! I would never harm Helena!—the murderer replied immediately.

—And what if I told you that you're right?—Apolo asked, bewildering the child.

—How?—the child responded immediately.

—What if all of this didn't happen, and it's just a simple dream, a nightmare from which you need to wake up to start all over again?— Apolo asked as he played with the ring in his hand.

—Is this a dream?—the child asked dazedly, but for some reason, those words resonated more than usual in his mind, and he began to look at Apolo with bewilderment.

—It could be, as well as you could be in reality, or it could even be someone else's imagination. For example, maybe this is my dream, and you don't exist. Or perhaps, the situation is even more amusing, being the case that neither of us exists, and we are already dead, talking to each other to bid farewell, while all of this is actually the imagination of a third party: who knows...—Apolo responded with an abnormally wide and ironic smile, while he appreciated the uncomfortable touch of the rusty metal brushing against his hands, which for some reason, even at this point in the story, was difficult for him to resist feeling.

—If this is a dream, I want to wake up. I want to be back in my body, in the castle with my family, to be able to play with Helena again. I don't want this to be real!—the child replied immediately, not giving much thought to the matter.

—But I'm afraid the ring would still be there. You'll wake up and see the stones on the ceiling of your room, you'll be happy to see your friend and go out to play with her in the forest, only for the ring to turn this dream into a reality from which, unfortunately, you'll never escape—Apolo replied, still looking at the tiny ring in his gigantic hands.

—No, that won't happen. I'll escape from this destiny because when I wake up, I'll destroy the ring!—the child replied quickly with a not-so-hidden concern in his childish tone of voice.

—But it's so easy to say it and so difficult to do it. But as much as it saddens me to tell you, the harsh reality is that you can't destroy the ring, or rather, you don't want to. Apolito...—Apolo commented, looking at the unpleasant trinket in his hand with bitterness and anguish. Despite how much the young noble hated it from the depths of his soul, he knew from the bottom of his heart that he couldn't get rid of this little piece of rusty metal the size of a pebble.

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—Of course, I can do it! Give me the ring, and I'll destroy it right now!—the child replied, approaching Apolo and then extending his hand to the stranger, asking for the rusty ring.

—I wish things were that simple. I wish I were really wrong, and above all, I wish you could do it, Apolito. But I know you more than you think, and unfortunately, I know that you can't get rid of the brass ring. You need it more than you think—Apolo replied, noticing the child's insistence on asking for the ring. However, the young noble seemed to have no intention of giving up the trinket.

—Why won't you give it to me?—the child asked, looking at the giant with disdain.

—Because I can't, because I don't want to!—Apolo shouted angrily—Don't you think it's cruel to burden you with this? Don't you think it's better if I carry it so at least you can be free of it? The story is almost over, too little remains, Apolito. And when it finally ends, you'll be free of this cruel ring, which, like a ruthless writer, manipulated the threads of your life up to this point. However, when the story ends, there's no writer to control the characters anymore, and that's when their disposable puppets can smile at the freedom they longed for.

Startled by the sudden shouting, the child took a few steps back. However, by taking those steps, he approached the corpse of his friend, which reminded him that there would be no happy ending in this story if he couldn't get rid of the ring. Seeking the courage hidden in his young heart, the child armed himself with determination and approached Apolo again, extending his hand to ask for the trinket.

—You see, I was right. That ring brings out the worst in us. We have to get rid of this trash!—the child shouted, finding the courage in his own voice.

—As I told you, I know you're right. But I also know you can't get rid of the ring, Apolito!—Apolo exclaimed, moving the child's hand aside with a slap as he put the ring back in his pocket.

—If you don't give it to me, how will you know what I'm going to do with the ring?—the child asked, ignoring Apolo's slap and extending his hand again in demand of the trinket.

—Because we're the same person. Of course, I know you can't do it if I can't do it myself, Apolito!—Apolo shouted, looking at the child's outstretched hand with disgust.

—Didn't you say all of this was a dream?—the child asked, changing the subject.

—Yes, it's a dream. You don't exist, and soon I won't either—Apolo replied roughly, accepting the fact that he was about to die with more naturalness than he would have liked.

—So, do you also believe it's impossible for me to get rid of the ring in a dream?—the child asked, persisting with his hand outstretched.

—It would be useless. I'll wake up, and I won't be able to change things in reality—Apolo replied wearily.

—At least let me dream that I can!—the child replied, smashing his outstretched hand against Apolo's chest, once again asking for the trinket.

Apolo remained silent and put his hand back in his pocket, understanding that nothing would change regardless of the decision he made. All of this was a dream, and it made no sense to continue arguing with a child in his last dream. So, the young noble decided to take the rusty ring out of his pocket and slowly placed it on the child's small hand, letting the trinket fall onto his palm.

The child took the brass ring in his hand and held it in front of his eyes to examine it carefully, as if he were trying to appreciate the beauty of this peculiar rusty brass ring in all its glory.

—As I said, you simply can't...—Apolo tried to say, but his words were abruptly interrupted by what had just happened in front of his eyes.

As Apolo began to speak, the child stopped looking at the ring, and as if he were waiting for the opportunity to shut the young noble up, he clenched his fist tightly and threw the ring off the cliff, causing Apolo to stare at it as if what had just happened was an aberration of nature: an event so impossible that even on his deathbed, the noble refused to believe that it could really happen.

—How did you do it?—Apolo shrieked, grabbing the child's gray clothes and lifting him a meter into the air until their gazes met—How the hell did you get rid of the ring, answer me, brat!

—By dreaming it!—the child shouted at the top of his lungs, causing his saliva to soak Apolo's face as an abnormally wide smile formed on his own face. Immediately, the child reached out his hand and snatched the silver mask from Apolo's face with a swipe. Before the young noble could react, the brat had placed the silver mask on his own face, causing a bright green flash to completely blind Apolo's vision.