Rakion had his back turned and dominated, imposing, the entire royal hall. Shirei tried to move, to take a step back, but his body remained still, paralyzed. Every fiber of his being required him to prepare for battle, but his legs remained glued to the ornate floor.

When he tried to travel to the Interworld, he found that he was unable to.

Is this a dream?

For further confirmation, he attempted to summon the tenebrae and seek out Reno's consciousness.

No response.

Salix advanced without hesitation, stopping a few steps from the throne.

His voice broke the silence, absorbing the tension in the air.

“I have returned, my lord,” he said respectfully.

Rakion didn't turn, his form as still as a statue.

The god stood, facing the vast and mysterious cosmos that stretched along the walls. He was almost two meters tall and his olive complexion stood out under the starlight. Despite his muscular body, his physique appeared incredibly slim, almost anorexic. The gold-plated robes he wore glittered, creating a golden halo around him. Rings adorned his fingers, each embellished with rare gems of mysterious provenance.

When he spoke, his voice was cold and sharp, like the reaper's blade that takes the lives of those whose time has run out.

“This delay will cost you six months of your life.”

Salix lowered his head, accepting the verdict without hesitation.

“I understand that.”

“No,” Rakion replied, his tone of contempt evident, “You don't understand, time is always crucial. That's why you're a mere replacement.”

Shirei watched the scene, his heart pounding in his chest. Rakion's words were like cruel lashes, each sentence a harsh blow to his mind, which recognized the tone of the god's voice.

The nightmare he had ended up in was far too real to be a simple dream, he was slowly coming to that conclusion.

He was a prisoner of his own subconscious, a helpless witness to a dialogue between the former king of the Gods and his subordinate. Salix remained silent, accepting his fate with a resignation that made Shirei's heart ache.

Rakion's figure exuded an aura of unrelenting authority, a power that seemed infinite and inescapable. Cragar's son felt the weight of those words on him, as if they had been directed at him as much as at Salix.

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The feeling of helplessness was suffocating, but familiar at the same time. As his body was bombarded with the myriad of negative sensations, Shirei wondered if those were truly his emotions.

But the nightmare continued and Shirei could only keep on being a spectator. He had to wait and take advantage of the slightest chance of waking up from that terrible dream, should it present itself.

Salix looked visibly upset by Rakion's words.

With a tense gaze, he glanced at Shirei. The demigod sensed something strange in that gesture, a silent communication that seemed to transcend the simple meeting of glances. Shirei had wondered about that scene and, suddenly, he understood: it was the boy who showed it to him, a memory projected directly into his mind through a dream.

Why are you showing me this? He asked himself, but received no answer.

Rakion broke the silence in an irritated tone.

“I've already wasted too many precious seconds on you. Fill me in on the details and take your leave.”

The son of Tefine looked down before replying, “Aena knows… about both me and the little girl.”

“Perfect,” replied the god, with a hint of satisfaction in his voice, “The truce between Emion and Cragar will not last long at this rate. What about the Calm Sovereign?”

Salix hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the words carefully, “He is really there, but his memories are dormant,” he paused.

He was trying to buy time to find out more information, but Shirei was certain that it was simply a risk.

Rakion seemed to have been quite clear about the price that meeting would be worth.

Six months of life, apparently useless for an immortal being of his caliber.

Salix hid those thoughts and returned to the conversation, “Are you sure to proceed with the plan?”

The evil deity sighed, once again showing his palpable irritation, “Yes, I have already opened the temporal rifts.”

With a barely audible tone of concern, the future god of nightmares asked, “Aren't you afraid that he might become too powerful?”

Rakion responded with a cold, humorless laugh, “The Calm Sovereign will not be a problem, no one will be. Now listen to your directions, for I will not waste time repeating myself.”

Shirei watched the scene, increasingly aware of the role he was playing in that induced dream or memory.

The tension between Salix and Rakion was palpable, and every word that came out of the Ancient One's mouth seemed coldly calculated. Shirei didn't know if the way he spoke was due to awareness of his presence.

And yet, if Salix is making me see this in my dream, it only means that this scene has already happened.

Rakion couldn't have known that Salix was leaking the report of his mission to the Lilies Park, so there was no need to be so cryptic.

He's doing it on purpose, even though he and Salix are alone.

The revelation of the time rifts and the mention of the Calm Sovereign left Cragar's son with more questions than answers, but one thing was clear: there was a plan afoot, a complex intrigue involving forces far beyond the caliber of demigods.

As he listened, the demigod continually tried to make up his mind. He had to absorb every detail, knowing that this information would be crucial once he woke up.

Salix bowed his head in submission.

Rakion continued, his voice cold and commanding: “You will remain hidden in the last temporal rift until the heroes arrive, and you will fight them when they have recovered the mask.”

Shirei saw the nightmare god's eyes go blank. His voice trembled as the words fell from his lips like an uncertain response to a professor's difficult question, the concern more than evident in the tone of his voice: “But this way...”

Rakion remained silent.