Silence.
The endless white world remained perfectly still.
The little girl continued smiling at him.
Completely unaware.
Lizarius quietly watched her.
Then—
his soul perception slowly expanded.
Not toward the child—
but toward the dream itself.
The endless white space rippled.
Like the surface of a tranquil lake disturbed by a single falling drop.
His crimson eyes remained fixed upon the child.
*...This dream belongs to me.*
*Then...*
*Its flow should also lie entirely beneath my control.*
His consciousness slowly reached outward.
Not to alter the child—
only to influence the passage of time within the dream itself.
The endless white world trembled.
At first—
nothing happened.
Then—
the little girl's body gradually became translucent.
The dream responded.
Time began to flow.
Years passed.
Then faster.
Faster still.
Like countless seasons unfolding within a single breath.
Lizarius remained motionless.
Watching.
Calculating.
*...If my judgment is restrained because I perceive her as a child...*
*Then...*
*What if I no longer perceive her as one?*
*Would that restraint disappear?*
The dream accelerated further.
The tiny girl slowly grew.
Her short legs lengthened.
The softness of childhood gradually faded from her face.
Her simple dress transformed as the passing years reshaped her appearance.
Her height increased.
The innocence in her eyes slowly matured.
Time continued flowing.
One year.
Three.
Five.
Ten.
The dream faithfully reproduced every stage.
Lizarius never interrupted.
He merely observed.
Waiting.
Testing.
His body remained perfectly still.
Only his thoughts continued moving.
*...If this restraint originates from my own perception...*
*Then changing that perception should change the result.*
*If it doesn't...*
*Then the restraint lies somewhere deeper.*
The dream continued advancing.
The child continued growing.
Year after year.
The little girl who had once smiled innocently at the tiny white lizard gradually became a graceful young woman.
Lizarius watched every change.
Without blinking.
Without emotion.
Without expectation.
He waited for only one thing—
to discover whether the invisible restraint hidden deep within himself...
would finally disappear.
---
Silence.
Lizarius remained motionless.
The young woman stood quietly before him.
The softness of childhood had vanished.
Her appearance had completely matured.
Yet—
his gaze never changed.
Several long breaths passed.
Then—
he quietly reached a conclusion.
*...No.*
*Nothing has changed.*
His crimson eyes calmly examined her.
Only her appearance had matured.
Nothing else.
He still knew—
she was the same child.
The years had never truly been lived.
Only the body had changed.
Her mind remained exactly where it had begun.
Her experiences...
Had not accumulated.
Her understanding...
Had not deepened.
She had never walked through those years.
She had merely skipped over them.
Silence.
Another thought surfaced.
*...What if I give her knowledge?*
The possibility quietly unfolded.
Artificial memories.
Artificial experiences.
An artificially matured mind.
The thought existed only briefly.
Then—
he discarded it.
*...No.*
*That would only damage her.*
Knowledge could be implanted.
Experience could be imitated.
But neither would truly belong to her.
Forcing decades of memories into a child's soul...
Would likely shatter it.
Even if it survived—
the result would no longer be genuine.
It would become nothing more than another fabrication.
His gaze remained calm.
*...That isn't what I wish to test.*
Silence returned.
Then—
another thought slowly formed.
*...If I truly wish to know...*
*Then she must actually grow.*
*One day at a time.*
*One thought at a time.*
*One experience at a time.*
Not an illusion.
Not a shortcut.
A complete simulation.
One indistinguishable from reality itself.
Only then...
could the result be trusted.
His gaze slowly lifted.
Toward the endless white sky above.
*...This is my subconscious.*
*Then...*
*Time itself should be easier to govern.*
His soul perception expanded.
The endless white world immediately trembled.
The surrounding space shifted beneath his will.
Threads—
imperceptible to ordinary perception—
gradually appeared before him.
The flow of time itself.
Rather than forcing it—
he quietly observed it.
Studied it.
Understood it.
Only then...
did he begin reshaping it.
Minute adjustments.
One after another.
The dream continuously adapted beneath his control.
Time slowly accelerated.
Not enough.
Again.
Faster.
Still—
not enough.
He continued.
Minutes became hours.
Hours became days.
The dream quietly evolved beneath his guidance.
Eventually—
the flow reached a new equilibrium.
Lizarius silently observed the result.
*...One second outside.*
*One hour inside.*
The dream stabilized.
He watched it for several moments.
Satisfied.
Then—
he refined it further.
Again.
Again.
The current accelerated.
Two hours.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Each refinement demanded increasingly delicate control.
The strain upon the dream steadily increased.
Yet—
it remained perfectly stable.
His mastery grew ever more precise.
Eventually—
the flow settled once more.
*...One second outside.*
*Ten hours inside.*
Silence.
Lizarius quietly calculated.
If maintained continuously—
one minute outside...
would become six hundred hours within the dream.
One hour outside...
would become thirty-six thousand hours.
His thoughts immediately completed the calculation.
*...Approximately fifteen hundred days.*
*Just over four years.*
His eyes remained fixed upon the endless white sky.
*...Still insufficient.*
He had made significant progress.
Yet—
if he truly intended to allow the child to mature naturally...
he would require far more time.
---
Silence.
Lizarius quietly observed the countless threads of time stretching throughout the endless white world.
His soul carefully monitored every fluctuation.
No instability.
No distortion.
Only—
a faint burden resting upon his consciousness.
He examined it briefly.
*...Negligible.*
The strain existed.
But only barely.
Far below his expectations.
Which meant—
he could continue.
Without hesitation—
his consciousness expanded once more.
The countless threads trembled.
Their current accelerated again.
Hours doubled.
The burden increased slightly.
Yet—
it remained comfortably within acceptable limits.
Gradually—
the fluctuations subsided.
The endless white world returned to perfect stability.
Lizarius silently calculated once more.
*...One second outside.*
*Twenty hours inside.*
His gaze remained fixed upon the endless heavens.
*...That should suffice.*
Another calculation immediately followed.
If maintained continuously—
only a few hours would pass in reality.
Yet—
years could unfold within this dream.
Long enough for genuine growth.
Long enough for real experiences to accumulate.
Long enough for the child to mature naturally—
without bypassing the journey itself.
Silence.
The experiment now possessed its foundation.
Only one element remained.
The world.
His crimson eyes slowly swept across the endless white expanse.
Nothing existed.
No sky.
No earth.
No mountains.
No cities.
Only an empty dream.
His thoughts quietly organized themselves.
*...A false world.*
Almost immediately—
he rejected the description.
*...No.*
*A simulation.*
Not an illusion.
Not deception.
A complete process.
One governed by the same principles as reality itself.
If the simulation differed too greatly—
then every conclusion drawn from it would become meaningless.
His gaze remained calm.
*...She must grow exactly as she normally would.*
*She must learn.*
*Cultivate.*
*Experience joy.*
*Experience failure.*
*Meet others.*
*Make choices.*
*Only then...*
*Will the results possess value.*
Silence followed.
His eyes slowly narrowed.
*...Then...*
*Where should it begin?*
Another thought surfaced almost immediately.
*...It shouldn't.*
He quietly dismissed the idea.
*There is no need to invent another world.*
*The closest approximation already exists.*
His gaze settled upon the child once more.
*...Her current life.*
*The people she knows.*
*The place where she lives.*
*Those will become the foundation.*
From there—
the simulation would simply continue.
One day after another.
Exactly as reality would have unfolded.
Without forcing events.
Without deciding outcomes.
Without guiding her choices.
He would only observe.
Only test.
Whether—
after years had truly passed—
he would still look upon the little girl before him...
and perceive her...
as a child.