Vern waited, ready to pen down anything that might come back as a response. However, what came instead was a sudden pull, and before he knew it, he was overlooking his back from an outsider's perspective as his face slammed into the table lifelessly.

Yet, before he could grimace, an array of oversaturated colors surrounded him. It was exactly like last time—a surreal feeling of being pulled through seemingly infinite distance. He reminded himself not to unleash his perception, lest he get mindkilled by who knew what lay beyond the colors.

He didn't know how long the process took, and unlike last time, there were no sudden, unexpected stops. No one hijacked his passage to the Nexus.

Soon, he lost his train of thought as the senses came flooding back in. That meant his body was being reconstructed through whatever means Nexus had at its disposal to facilitate this pseudo-teleportation.

Before long, his feet signaled him of the ground, and he balanced himself upright as his whole body materialized over the next few seconds.

A profound darkness greeted him, and he reflexively waved his hands around to get a feeling of his surroundings, only to shake his head in disappointment towards himself as he unleashed his perception to do the job instead.

The visual it created in his mind was quite fuzzy, but it was enough not to make him feel like he was stumbling in the darkness. However, soon he frowned, Wait, where is this?

His perception, as little as it could gather, made it seem like he was standing in a field of wilted flowers, surrounded by…tombstones? It was—

"Welcome back, kind Dreamer," came a soft and unhurried voice from somewhere behind him. The accent felt archaic, and the tone was light.

Vern swiveled around and jumped a couple steps, his stance turning defensive for a moment, only for it to click a second later. Is this her…?

As if in her control, the world shrouded in an umbra of darkness cleared up, and the glow from the stars beyond the usual canopy lit the surroundings with their natural, eery shine.

His vision cleared up, and the perception's cues shifted. The flowers were erased, and so were the stones, and from the direction of the voice emerged a new figure.

She wore a simple ankle-length dress of deep white linen. The fabric was plain but well-made, falling in clean lines from her shoulders to the floor. Over this, she donned an intricate open robe of black, its wide sleeves hanging loosely at her sides.

Her hair, ashen blonde with subtle streaks of gold, was braided neatly, the plait ending just at her shoulders. The braid was functional rather than elaborate, keeping her hair tidy and out of her face.

Complimenting these features were her pale skin and even paler eyes—so much so they felt hollow. She stared with them in his general direction as she curtsied with her hands clasped in front of her.

Vern was dumbfounded for a second before his instincts kicked in, and he returned a polite bow of his own.

In moments, the dim light from beyond permeated the rest of the hall as the Nexus registered in his sight in its full glory.

His face was a mask of confusion, but he tried to keep it in check as he waited for her to say something.

.

.

.

She didn't. Her expression was serene yet restrained—her lips extending in a thin line. There was neither a hint of eagerness nor was there impatience. And while she was looking in his general direction, her mark was clearly off.

Is she…blind? he wondered, unsure of what to do.

Soon, however, he thickened his skin and started, "Apologies for asking, but how may I address you?" That was the loudest question in his mind right now. Just who was she? He wanted to ask directly if she was Lady Sylphina, but he knew he couldn't divulge her existence lightly.

If it wasn't her, then he would've committed a cardinal sin for his own curiosity.

The woman across from him tilted her head to one side in visible confusion before shaking her head slightly, "I am but a simple witness. The Dreamer's Witness. Your witness."

"…a witness?" he repeated dumbly.

She dipped her head and added in that soothing voice, "Kind one, pursue your singular path, and I will affirm it with all my being. You will face the horrors, and I will be here for you to reaffirm your sickly spirit."

.

.

.

Vern didn't know what to say. He remained silent, and she was more than happy to do the same, staring beyond him with her hands lightly clasped. It was uncanny how much impact those simple words had on him.

Many questions popped up in his head, but he reminded himself not to be rude and assault someone so nice. Instead, he started, "Thank you for your help until now and for the future. I believe you were the one who acknowledged and acted on my requests?"

The woman's unseeing eyes seemed to soften. She nodded slowly, her voice carrying a hint of warmth as she spoke, "Indeed, kind one. Your wishes echoed through the Nexus, and I heeded them. It is my purpose, my joy, to tend to the needs of the dreamer."

She paused for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if listening to something beyond mortal hearing. When she continued, her voice carried a note of both reassurance and mystery.

"Do not hesitate to call upon me, Kind one. Whether you seek strength, insight, or merely a moment of respite from the weight of your journey, I am here, as I have always been, as I will always be."

Vern had a hard time keeping up. Life was fickle. Far too fickle. One day, it did everything in its power to end him—pitting him against enemies far beyond himself. On the next, however, it brought him in front of such kindness.

While he had many questions about her origin, she was clearly related to Lady Sylphina. The very nexus and the weft that acted as a backbone for the convergence note was related to Lady Sylphina. But she isn't her. This…witness was very different from the being he met in the endless void. That was for sure.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He didn't really know how to process this. She was related but not in a clear manner.

Despite his lack of response, she remained unchanged, maintaining her previous subtle and innocent smile.

After a while, he sighed, "I am thankful for your help. I'll be relying on you to do what I must."

She simply dipped her head in response.

.

.

.

He had things to do in here, but it felt…awkward.

Somehow ignoring the mind that told him it was rude to question her too much, he went on, "You speak of a Dreamer. What does it mean to be a dreamer?"

"It means to be you, kind one."

"…"

He tried again, "Yes, but why am I a dreamer?"

"Because you dream."

"…"

That one was my fault.

"Then, what is a dream?" Was that just how she perceived the world? As dreams? It would be an interesting perspective if true.

However, that's when something changed. A look of concentration appeared on her face as she closed her eyes for a moment and tried to listen to something.

She tried and tried as if reaching out to some infinitely faint melody, but it didn't seem to work. Right when Vern felt like he should interrupt, she opened her eyes, and her shoulders drooped. Staring in his direction, she replied with a low whisper, "I…don't know, kind one."

"I don't know."

The disappointment in her voice was so immense it was hard for him to even try and ask why. Is something wrong with her memory?

He frowned but still reassured her, "It's okay. Please don't worry about it; it was just an off-handed question. Can I do anything to help?"

She shook her head but didn't say anything else.

He had a tonne more questions in the same vein, but something told him he wasn't about to get the answers for them.

He exhaled deeply and nudged his thoughts towards matters of import. "Please don't stress it if you are unable to do so, but can you tell me more about the Nexus and its functions?"

She nodded, her expression serene once again, "It's a place of convergence. Here, the threads of reality intertwine, and the world's thoughts gather."

Her unseeing eyes seemed to look beyond Vern as if gazing into the fabric of existence itself. "Dreamers before you told me they used this convergence to shape the course of eras, to mold reality itself. You, too, Kind one, surely have this potential."

Vern's ears perked up, "Dreamers before me? Who? When?"

Her eyes grew troubled again, and she stressed herself only to shake her head once more, "I don't know, kind one."

Something is really wrong here, he realized. She was able to remember what these prior dreamers told her in passing, but not about the speakers themselves. How did that even work?

Yet, instead of suspicion, he felt pity. He was in this nexus because of her. He was able to use it back then because of her. Being suspicious of her would truly be the height of ungratefulness.

He waved his hand, "Please don't worry about it. I would much rather learn about the flux reserves of the Nexus itself. Last I checked, it was running on fumes. Would you happen to know more?"

She nodded, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone. "Time has taken its toll on this place, Kind one. The connections that once bound the Nexus to the world have grown faint, like whispers on the wind.

Recently, there was a great surge of energy, a flood of power that momentarily revitalized it. But such bursts, while potent, are fleeting. They don't reach the core."

Vern wondered, Is she talking about the cost that the Visionaries paid to organize the confluence?

She continued without pause, "However, things have changed since you arrived, kind one. In such a short period, the nexus has grown more than it did ever since…"

But suddenly, her words stopped, and she lost her train of thought once again, "…ever since…I can't remember."

There are clearly gaps in her memories. Fortunately, it didn't bother her too much beyond the first few seconds. Every time, she accepted it and moved on. He couldn't have done that.

Regardless, he wondered about something else she mentioned. It has grown since I arrived, huh? Could she be talking about the times I discovered things about the Nexus or Institute?

That was how he restored some of Nexus's flux last time—allowing him to get out.

If he was understanding it right, then doing so didn't just recoup some flux but also permanently helped the nexus somehow.

Watching her patiently wait for him to speak, he indulged, "Then how much flux does the nexus have at this moment?"

She responded in a heartbeat, "Enough to invite a hundred people."

Vern, who was nodding until now, suddenly doubled back, "Wait. Did you say a hundred?"

She nodded.

Vern tilted his head in confusion, "Didn't you tell me that there was only enough to invite two people last time?"

She nodded.

"…"

What?

But that's when it clicked. Did that echo of Midra's cage have something to do with this? Because echoes were the only way he'd managed to restore Nexus's flux, and it would only make sense if these two events were related.

Hmm, the archivist's insights called that angel-like being a True Dreamer. Did it have anything to do with the dreamers that she's talking about?

If so, it was possible that this hallowed angel was related to Nexus, and by interacting with a related echo, he'd somehow made the Nexus's connection to reality a bit stronger?

Lady-above, that would be wild. It was insane how there was actually a connection between all these seemingly unrelated things.

"Did this number change about twelve hours ago?" he asked, a little eager. If so, that would confirm the connection.

Yet, against his expectations, she shook her head, "I don't know, kind one. The exactness of time eludes me."

He was speechless. That was not the reason he had in mind for her refusal.

Shaking his head, he digressed. It was too far down the conjecture lane, and his assumptions were getting wild. Well, it's good enough for now.

He didn't need to understand everything right away. It was more important to figure out how to bolster Axiom's singularity rather than dive deeper into this matter.

With a calculative grin, he looked back up and asked, "So, I can invite around a hundred people if I so please?"

She nodded.

He narrowed his eyes. "What about sending them back?"

"None if you invite a hundred."

"…"

He felt like facepalming. She answers exactly what I ask of her. It was his fault for assuming it was implied that he would want to send them back, too.

But wait!

"Does that mean if I invite fifty people so I can send them back, too, I can't really spend the rest of my energy to suppress them?"

She nodded.

"…"

So, I would essentially be defenseless if I invited this many observers. Not that he wanted to, anyway. Or I'd have had to do a lot more digging into the past to actually make it safe.

"Hmm, how many people can I invite, assuming I want to suppress their strength at all times."

She looked unsure for a while before responding, "I don't know, kind one. It would depend on the guests' depth of perception and the time spent here."

Vern, however, knew this was a simple problem of figuring out the unit value. So, he pressed, "Let's say, for a third shade observer, can I keep them in here for an hour?"

She tilted her head as if listening to some inaudible voice and responded with that same disappointed tone, "I…am not sure, kind one. But I do know that the nexus can suppress a high-shade observer for a while."

And in a meek voice, she added, "If you want, I can inform you a dozen breaths before the arrangement you decide on is bound to fall apart."

Vern wanted to grumble and ask for the numbers himself, but he soon consoled himself with the excuse that things weren't that simple. Quantifying the amount of flux based on one's shade alone wasn't how it worked.

He shrugged, this is still more than I could have figured out by myself.

Which now called for the real question. Who to invite?