Shirei regained consciousness with a sense of disorientation that forced him to blink, his eyelids heavy as lead. His body screamed to start running, while a painful memory of the battle against the monsters filled his mind.
Only after those first moments did he realize he was surrounded by an oppressive penumbra. This wasn't the grassy ground where he had fainted; he was somewhere else, in a completely different place.
This place…
Shirei recognized the familiarity of the environment; it wasn't the first time he had visited it. A voice whispered the answer he was looking for—it was the palace of Rakion, the Lord of Time.
The walls were tall and dark, built from black stone that seemed to absorb every trace of light. Golden torches, scattered along the corridor, emitted a faint ochre flame—the only source of light—and cast sinister silhouettes on the walls. The air was dense, charged with an ancient arcane energy that immediately brought to mind a blend of aether and mana, an echo of magic beyond the understanding of a mere mortal.
Shirei stood at the beginning of a long corridor, whose ends seemed to vanish into infinite darkness. The floor, paved in black marble with golden veins, echoed beneath his steps. He moved forward cautiously, feeling the weight of the silence, broken only by the distant sound of a bell and the relentless ticking of a clock.
As he advanced, the contours of the corridor began to take clearer shape. The ceiling rose in gothic arches, adorned with stained glass windows that, despite the lack of natural light, emitted a pale crimson luminescence. At the end of the endless hallway loomed a massive door, tall and imposing, forged from a dark metal the Blendbreed didn't recognize.
The doors were framed by elaborate columns, carved with demonic figures and monstrous creatures, each of which seemed to watch him with empty, menacing eyes. Shirei's body stopped, despite his will to keep going, his heart pounding in his chest. The closed door radiated an aura of power and intimidation, as if behind it lay something that should never be revealed to the world.
Every fiber of his being was on alert, his instinct screaming to prepare for whatever might happen. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and focus his thoughts.
Why am I seeing this? Why now? Is this a memory?
Having no answer, he kept staring at the door, his breath a little steadier, though his heart still in turmoil. He began to raise his hand, but a movement to his right made him turn sharply.
There, just a few steps from him, stood a young man he had already met.
The boy wore visibly uncomfortable clothing, its edges stiff and ill-suited to his frame.The armor was a pale pink veering toward silver, adorned with thin golden streaks that ran along the borders and joints, tracing intricate geometric patterns. The golden lines shimmered faintly in the torchlight, adding a touch of elegance and mystery to the boy. His hair was black as the surrounding darkness, straight and long enough to cover his eyes. Falling freely over his forehead, it framed delicate and attractive features. His eyes, a liquid silver with a barely perceptible pink hue, were fixed on the great door.
Salix.
Shirei wondered what it all meant, realizing that the sound produced by his footsteps had been nothing more than a distraction. It hadn't been him moving, nor walking. He had simply followed the son of Tefine. He sensed an aura of unease, as if the young man were struggling with something inside himself, a discomfort reflected in the awkward armor he wore. Yet, despite the evident distress, there was firmness in his stance.
"What does all this mean?" asked the son of Cragar, his voice echoing slightly through the silent corridor.
Salix lifted his gaze, but didn't move. He remained in place before the closed doors.
"I am Salix," he finally announced.
"I know. What is happening?" replied the Blendbreed, curiosity tinged with slight suspicion.
The son of Tefine stepped closer to the entrance, the armor emitting a soft chime with each movement. The doors groaned open, revealing a vast hall that seemed to defy the laws of physics and architecture. Salix entered first, advancing with a steady stride, and Shirei followed, his eyes darting to catch every detail.
The area was circular in shape, its floor adorned with intricate symbols that resembled an ancient clock. The lines and numbers intersected in a hypnotic pattern, emitting a soft golden glow. Each step Salix took echoed with a paradoxical resonance, as though he were treading on the fabric of time itself.
The walls were replaced by golden columns rising in a circle like pillars, supporting a framework made of a thin circular segment with no ceiling.
From the pillars hung red banners, the fabric drifting as if alive. Some figures woven into them whispered words in a language Shirei couldn't recognize. Symbols were also embroidered, written in a lost language he guessed dated back to the Third Generation—the Age of the Ancients.
He couldn't help but wonder what those words meant.
Beyond the columns, the nonexistent walls faded into a breathtaking view of a galaxy. Sparkling stars and glowing nebulae danced in the void, creating a cosmic panorama that seemed to embrace the entire hall. The sensation he felt was that of standing on an altar in space, a meeting point between the physical world and the otherworldly.
At the center of the hall, dominating the entire universe with its regal presence, stood a golden throne. The seat was massive, elaborately carved with detailed depictions of various battles, which Shirei associated with the deeds of the Ancient. It seemed to shine with its own light, a fusion of pure gold and divine power. As the son of Cragar advanced, following Salix inside, he noticed a strange floating blade above the throne.
His first instinct was to link the scene to the legendary Sword of Damocles, but he quickly suppressed the thought.
The weapon was long and slender, made of a dark metal that starkly contrasted with the golden throne. It had a silver hilt with no guard, and the anthracite-colored blade resembled a strange sickle he had seen somewhere before. It appeared to be suspended in the air by an invisible energy, an unsettling force the violet-eyed Blendbreed recognized as belonging to Rakion.
A kopesh…
Shirei was surprised by the word, arriving from who knows where. The kopesh was a type of blade born in the Sumerian era, later adopted by the Egyptians as standard issue for the pharaonic army.
Where are all these facts coming from?
It was an easy question to answer.
From my past memories…
The same fragments he still couldn't piece together.
Before he could examine the weapon in more detail, his attention was drawn elsewhere—or rather, to someone. A figure stood beyond the shadow cast by the throne. It had its back turned and loomed over the entire royal hall with an imposing presence.
Shirei tried to move, to take a step back, but his body remained frozen, paralyzed. Every part of him urged to prepare for battle, yet his legs were glued to the ornate floor.
When he tried to travel into the Interworld, he discovered he couldn't.
Is this a dream?
To be sure, he attempted to summon the Tenebraes and seek Reno's consciousness.
No response.
Salix stepped forward without hesitation, stopping just a few paces from the throne. His voice broke the silence, absorbing the tension in the air.
"I have returned, my lord," he said respectfully.
The deity did not turn. His figure stood still, statue-like. He was facing the vast and mysterious cosmos stretching along the walls. He stood nearly two meters tall, his olive complexion catching the starlight. Despite his muscular build, his body appeared incredibly lean, almost emaciated. The gold-plated garments he wore shimmered with their own energy, casting a golden halo around him. Rings adorned his fingers, each set with rare gems of unknown origin.
When he spoke, his voice was cold and sharp—like the blade of the reaper claiming the lives of those whose time had run out.
"This delay will cost you six months of life."
Salix bowed his head, accepting the verdict without hesitation.
"I understand."
"No," the god replied, his tone laced with clear contempt, "you don't understand. Time is always crucial. That is why you are nothing but a replacement."
Shirei watched the scene, heart pounding in his chest. The words spoken felt like cruel lashes, each sentence a heavy blow to his mind, which recognized the tone of the god's voice. The nightmare he had fallen into was far too vivid to be just a dream—slowly, he was coming to that conclusion. He was a prisoner of his own subconscious, a powerless witness to a dialogue between the former king of the gods and his subordinate.
Salix remained silent, accepting his fate with a resignation that stirred something strange within the Blendbreed.
The figure of the Ancient radiated an aura of relentless authority, a power that seemed infinite and inescapable. The son of Cragar felt the weight of those words pressing on him, as if they were meant for him just as much as for Salix. The sense of helplessness was suffocating—and yet, oddly familiar.
As his body was bombarded by a myriad of negative emotions, Shirei wondered whether he was truly feeling them.
This doesn't even feel like mine.
But the nightmare continued, and he could do nothing but watch. He had to wait, hoping for the slightest chance to awaken from that terrible dream, should it present itself.
With a tension-filled glance, Salix cast a brief look toward Shirei. The Blendbreed sensed something strange in that gesture—a silent message that seemed to transcend mere coincidence. He had been questioning the meaning of this scene, and suddenly, he had his answer: it was the son of Tefine showing it to him, a memory projected directly into his mind through a dream.
Why are you showing me this? he wondered, but received no reply.
Rakion broke the silence with an irritated tone.
"I've already wasted too many precious seconds on you. Update me with the details and take your leave."
Salix lowered his gaze before responding.
"Aena knows… and now she'll be suspicious of the other deity hidden in the park."
"Perfect," the god replied, a faint note of satisfaction in his voice. "The truce between Emion and Cragar won't last much longer at this rate. What of the Calm Sovereign?"
Salix hesitated for a moment, as if carefully weighing his words.
"The reports were accurate, but so were the other pieces of information. We can't include him." He paused.
Was he trying to buy time to uncover more and pass it along? Shirei was certain it was worth the risk, but he couldn't understand the motivations behind the son of Tefine. Rakion had been quite clear about the price of this meeting—six months of life, seemingly meaningless to an immortal of his caliber.
"My lord, are you certain about proceeding with the plan?"
The dark deity sighed, once again displaying his palpable irritation.
"Yes. I've already opened the temporal rifts."
With a tone of barely perceptible concern, the future god of nightmares asked,
"Don't you fear he might become too powerful and escape?"
Rakion responded with a cold laugh, devoid of any real humor. "No, on the contrary. The Calm Sovereign will take care of everything and there will be no problems. Now listen to your directives, as I won't waste time repeating myself."
Shirei watched the scene unfold, increasingly aware of the role he was playing in this dream or induced memory. Rakion unsettled him—there was too much cruelty in him.
The books describe him as belligerent, but not as an evil god.
Shirei couldn't tell if the god's way of speaking was due to an awareness of his presence, but he was too busy noticing the strange inconsistencies. Something was extremely off. Nothing made sense. Rakion couldn't have known that Salix was leaking the report of the mission at Lilies Parkto him, so there was no reason to be so cryptic.
He's doing it on purpose, even though he and Salix are alone. Or maybe he's calculated even this possibility?
The revelation of the Temporal Rifts and the mention of the Calm Sovereign left the son of Cragar with more questions than answers, but one thing was clear: there was a plan in motion, a complex intrigue involving forces far beyond the scale of any Blendbreed.
Who is the Calm Sovereign? That name sounds so familiar…
As he listened, he kept trying to collect his thoughts. He had to absorb every detail—this information would be crucial once he awoke.
Salix lowered his head in submission.
Rakion, with his cold and commanding voice, continued, "You will remain hidden in the last Temporal Rift until the heroes arrive, and you will fight them once they recover the mask."
Shirei saw the eyes of the god of nightmares go blank. His voice trembled as the words came out like a hesitant answer to a difficult professor's question—concern was more than evident in his tone. "But in that way…"
Rakion remained silent.
The clear implication from the Ancient One was that Salix would have to face anyone who stood before him, just as Reno had. If the event led to an encounter with someone too powerful, Salix could very well be overwhelmed. The evil god, however, seemed to consider him a minimal and expendable sacrifice.
Rakion is ready to sacrifice a god who follows him blindly as if he were nothing? Does he just want to send him away at the risk of losing him, or does he mean he has complete confidence that Salix won't be defeated?
Judging by the look on the son of Tefine's face, Shirei could only dismiss the second option.
At the same time, though, sending a god into battle is a guaranteed victory.
As a deity—Shirei still struggled to believe it—Salix was supposed to be immortal, so they wouldn't even be able to kill him if they tried.
So… why does he look so afraid?
The question remained unanswered, while the silence of the Ancient One became more eloquent than any words.
"After that, the war will begin," he concluded, without a trace of emotion.
Suddenly, the floating blade above the throne stirred, piercing Salix from behind. The boy flinched the moment it ran through him, but, incredibly, he sustained no injury. The weapon drifted with sinister grace toward Rakion's hand, which closed around it in a natural motion. As soon as the god's skin made contact with the mystic metal, a murky stream of mana flowed from the weapon into Rakion.
The god accepted the mana willingly and relaxed his shoulders, then said, "You are dismissed."
Salix was visibly trembling, his silvery eyes reflecting, within their peculiar pinkish hues, a mixture of frustration and fear. He cast one final glance at Shirei. It seemed to carry a clear meaning—a warning for the son of Cragar. With a gaze heavy with resignation, he gave a faint nod and made his way toward the exit with heavy steps.
The Blendbreed remained still, observing every movement, every detail, of the enemy whose back was still turned. A voice in his mind warned him.
He would have to be ready.
Once on the battlefield, the god would surely come for him. He was certain of it: that was the fate awaiting him.
The son of Tefine crossed the threshold, and Shirei heard Rakion muttering to himself. The words were steeped in deep hatred and resentment.
"I won't make the same mistake again. First the Blendbreeds, then the Highworld… and finally, my son."
The dream began to fade slowly, dissolving into a haze of confusion. The boy with violet eyes found himself drifting in thought over what he had just witnessed. Every single detail was etched into his mind as if the scene had been branded onto his skin.
Again… has this happened before?
The Blendbreed gathered his thoughts around all the information he had obtained.
Cragar mentioned Rakion a few times, but he always tread carefully, as if he were testing me. After the battle with Salix, Aena and Lyceum decided to give us that lesson on the Empyreans. There are too many coincidences—the gods know he's planning to attack them.
It was only natural for the boy to wonder why everything was being kept hidden.
If war really broke out, the Blendbreeds at Lilies Park wouldn't be remotely prepared…
While he was lost in thought, a familiar voice called out to him. Shirei saw a new landscape construct itself out of nothing. A figure stood before him, and through her voice, his eardrums quivered. It was the same person from the dream he'd had in the infirmary, but the details of her face still appeared blurry, as though seen through fogged glass.
The girl passed by him with ethereal grace.
Before he could follow her, a second voice, calm in tone, spoke: "It's not you she's calling."
The son of Cragar froze for a fraction of a second, then turned sharply and found himself face to face with an exact copy of himself. The mirror image stared back at him with a calm, yet enigmatic expression. For a moment, he couldn't grasp what was happening. The presence of his duplicate made everything feel even more surreal, deepening the sense of confusion and unease.
Is this still part of the dream?
The two studied each other for what felt like an eternity, the silence stretching thick between them. Shirei wondered what that vision meant and what message his counterpart might be hiding.
This was the right moment to try to reclaim his memories—at least, that was what he hoped.
The nightmare Salix had temporarily trapped him in seemed to be over, only to be followed by a second scene.
An encounter feared even by Fate.