Fog had swallowed up the sky like the days before when Hope first arrived in Mirror City. The morning grayed into its mouth of mist as Hope walked carefully down a few city blocks. Further and further left behind was the glass dome tower of Sector Two. And up ahead, the buildings gradually began to tower like little giants.

Windows shattered or clouded with years of dust offered no reflection, vines slithered up their facades of once-grand buildings.

Long burnt-out streetlights were barely visible as looming shapes in the mist.

Step. Step. Step.

Hope's feet brushed through thick patches of grass.

Kraaar–

The sound of Nightmare Creatures could be heard in the distance.

A spark of gunfire as well.

'Not close though.' Hope nonchalantly thought. So he was fine. For now.

No need to be on edge for nothing.

Step. Step. Step.

He picked his way along the street, moving around the bumpy cars shelling decayed bodies. In the front were, of course, adults. And a few cars had smaller figures in the backseat.

Woosh– Woosh–

Straight from his right hand and curved at its end, Hope casually spun the long spine.

Mixed with blood and bone and claw, the ghastly sword was studded with several pitched claws for teeth. It had a duct tape handle, but what tied the items together was a meticulous knot from the hound's sinew. The tough fibrous tissue that binded the claws to the jagged bone now served as instruments of death.

Although he still preferred a ranged weapon—greater distance from the enemy was better he thought—he had to admit that the bullets would alert his surroundings. Consequently, luring more damn Nightmare Creatures. At least now he had a 'sword' to accompany his Ashen Shield. No longer needing to be in close close combat.

And speaking of close close combat…

As Hope continued walking, he looked at his left hand stained with the hound's blood. Of course, he wasn't keen on its appearance. But he imagined again of the power he emitted to induce sleep on the Awakened…

Prince…or whatever he was truly named.

How unusual of a name.

But–

'How long do Awakened need to sleep for anyway?' Hope thought.

He didn't know the specific number. But Hope knew it was hours. Therefore, they couldn't just hop in and out whenever they wanted to. So. Hope was capable of sending them to the Dream Realm without worries of waking them by accident in this world.

"..."

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His Aspect was proving to be…more dangerous than he had credited it for.

'Huh. Is that why it's ranked Supreme?'

Did that mean he could dare to go up against the higher-ups? To go to battle against the Awakened?

That didn't pique any of his interest…

To hell with being strong or the 'top dog' as they would say.

Hope preferred to be cast as nothing. Unusual to admit? Probably.

Sure he had been called that here and there throughout his life. Well, it seemed normal to in his case. It was strange to be called 'special.' Whatever encouraging twisting words they would spit into his ear, neither of those words pushed him to achieve something greater for himself.

So in a sense, he just existed.

And he was fine with that.

Desiring for more strength eventually draws in the eyes. Sure now it was...slightly demanded of him to seek more strength to survive in this damn city. And he may have to go to some lengths to achieve it. But in general, whether one was seen as a potential enemy in the far future or a toy to play with. In the end. More strength invited stronger enemies.

'I should be more careful then.'

Hope did kill the Dreamer Kurt guy.

Without obtaining his essence, maybe it wouldn't have been as timely to subdue the Awakened.

But what if others could sense some strength inside Hope as he could sense their unmistakable aura? Even with his Flaw, if he stepped into a room, how would they react?

Well, if he'd ever become an Awakened. Or that strong for that matter.

'I'm a Dreamer…that's still far into the future.' Hope thought as he continued spinning the sword in his hand.

He shouldn't get too ahead of himself. It wasn't like a Dreamer could cause trouble anyways. That type of rank wouldn't concern him as an enemy to anyone.

Step. Step. Step.

Hope blinked as a tangent thought crossed his mind.

"..."

What were the greatest enemies of the gods?

'Are they technically…our gods since we're connected to the Dream Realm?'

Was that how it all worked?

Beast God.

Sun God.

War God.

Heart God…

Huh. Why did he feel like there were more? How unfortunate if there really was… That cursed Heart God was enough to shake his life.

Hope frowned and then looked up at the sky. All he saw instead were the walls of mist, its damp breath hugging around him. But was IT watching?

'The hell's your enemy?'

"..."

Of course. No answer came from the Spell. Not that he particularly believed it would.

But…

'What did you choose me for?'

Hope shook his head as he continued forward.

As Hope had thought before, the Spell chooses its victims with its own measured degree of despair that cancers in people's hearts. An infection that festered inside from a supernatural seed. Or however else they described it. With that information people had learned years before, some settlements throughout Quadrant I started to act differently.

And...that was all he was told.

Hope could probably piece some things out from glimpsing more into his memories. But that wasn't going to benefit him now. Sure he could remember his past. But that didn't necessarily mean he had the answers to everything from it. Just as how one would need to rewatch a recording to understand the full context, despite the number of times they replay it. It was the same for Hope as well. He wouldn't consider himself particularly smart anyway.

But most importantly.

There was no feeling of despair that he remembered.

Such a poignant memory would have stood out from the rest. Sometimes the bitterness he felt toward the cultists would flicker, or the feeling of dying when he nearly drowned could be easily pinpointed. But despair?

Step. Step. Step.

Mother was dead. Father most likely as well or whatever became of him. But that was normal in this day and age. Nothing special for children to lose their parents.

That was life.

That was the kind of world he was born into.

There was no stark feeling of swollen eyes or salty tears. No trace of wailing in his throat. There weren't peak moments that would keep him awake at night. No memory of sorrow plaguing his mind.

Surely.

A time like that would strike an unforgettable chord.

Cursed or non-cursed.

Step. Step. Step.

But aside from that, the bigger question was: where the hell was this other outcast Awakened? It was unhelpful the Dreamer Kurt guy said that this paranoid Awakened dwelled on higher ground. The 'he sets up traps' part was informative enough. But higher ground?

"..."

Hope pinched the bridge of his nose.

'It's a fucking city. There are tall buildings everywhere…'

Hope thought that he should have killed someone else instead.