When I was little, back when I still lived in the orphanage, there was a story I came across.
The story went like this—
There was once a young girl with wisdom so great that it rivalled the Archmeister himself.
Because of her talent, she was chosen as the Archmeister's assistant, even at such a young age.
Time went by.
The little girl grew older, and one day she became the Archmeister herself.
She was praised as the most knowledgeable person in all the lands.
But as the years continued their relentless march, the girl who had become Archmeister began to feel the creeping inevitability of age and mortality, a fear that clung to her like a shadow she could not shake.
She became afraid—afraid of that finality which every living being must eventually confront: death.
So she searched for a way to live longer.
And in the end, after long and arduous searching, she found it.
She encased her soul within a coffin forged of dragon glass.
And through that, she managed to stretch her years across countless decades, perhaps even centuries.
Even now, her soul still lives on.
…
How much of that tale bore any truth, I could not say.
To me, for as long as I could remember, it had always been nothing more than a fanciful story, a fairy tale meant to entertain or to frighten, but surely not to exist in the world of reality.
But at this moment, standing in the presence of this strange, almost surreal sight…
I felt the lines between what was real and what had existed only in imagination begin to blur, to twist into one another until it was impossible to separate the two.
…
My breath, shallow and uneven, seemed to hesitate in my chest as I stared at the glass coffin before me.
The story from my childhood clung stubbornly to my mind, wrapping around my thoughts like spiderwebs, each thread tightening and sticking more insistently the longer my gaze lingered on the old woman's form inside.
'This… it bears an unsettling resemblance to that fairy tale… doesn't it?'
The thought intruded on my headspace uninvited.
Who is this person, truly? The one whom these powerful-looking individuals revere as 'Master'?
My mind churned with a tangle of questions, each one heavier than the last, none offering any clear answer.
The face within the glass tilted slightly toward me, a small smile playing across lips that seemed almost impossibly serene.
"Why don't you sit? You've come all this way, after all. Let's talk for a while."
Her tone was casual, disarmingly so.
As if we were at some kind of tea party.
Before I could even manage a response, one of the crimson-haired twins—silent and observant—nodded in a minimal gesture.
"I'll prepare the tea."
Her voice, calm and almost cheerful in its detachment, faded down the corridor as she disappeared, leaving me to process the absurdity of the scene.
'Can she read my thoughts? That's the only explanation.
Because I had literally just thought that this was turning into some bizarre tea-party scenario, and now… this.'
A laugh, humourless and jagged, threatened to escape my lips, while beads of sweat prickled along my spine.
Dragged underground, nearly killed, betrayed, cornered by two monstrous girls… and now, this…
I wanted, with a desperate ache, to return to the world I had known, however dull it had seemed.
I imagined a single tear trailing down my cheek, if only in my mind, and shifted my gaze.
"…" My brows furrowed instinctively as my eyes found Lycrane.
She had seated herself next to me, a mere whisper of distance away, brushing dirt from her hands with an elegance that only served to irritate me further.
Her midnight-blue eyes, as always, avoided mine.
"Tch…"
I clicked my tongue sharply and clenched my jaw.
Unbelievable.
She's acting like this is normal, like I'm supposed to play along.
'I really do hate her. Screw you, SSS-bitch…'
I tore my gaze away, letting it fall once more upon the figure behind the glass.
Cautiously, I lowered myself to the floor and sat across from the entity that seemed to regard me with unblinking attention.
The face shifted again, and when she spoke, her voice filled the room, calm yet intimate in a way that made it feel as though she were speaking only to me.
"My name is Reha Bellcrack," she said deliberately, her words filtering through the air as if moving through water, muffled but perfectly clear. "I was once the Archmeister of Friscus. The twentieth, to be precise."
Her eyes—if one could still call them that—met mine through the glass with a piercing, unyielding gaze.
So, she is indeed the one from that story…
I drew in a sharp, involuntary breath, the confirmation of my speculation weighing on me.
"I imagine you've heard of me, in one form or another, yes?" I swallowed, forcing my throat to function despite the lump that seemed lodged there.
"…I might've," I admitted carefully, keeping my expression neutral. Reha chuckled softly, the sound echoing faintly in the wooden-and-glass chamber.
I blinked, still trying to process everything.
"…So, what exactly do you want with me?" I finally asked, my voice laced with worry and pleading.
Reha's lips curved into that same irritating smile. Irritating, at least to 'me', who was racking his brain frantically for a way out of here.
She replied to my question, seemingly expecting such a query.
"I want you to enter someone's dream… and wake that person."
I nodded, almost sarcastically."Mmmhmm. Mmmhmm."
'Enter a dream? The fuck?! Do they even understand what they're asking me to do? Impossible.Completely impossible.'
I cast a glance at Lycrane, silently hoping for some clue, some shred of explanation.
She ignored me, as always, silent and unreadable.
'Damn you, woman!'
"Could you… elaborate?" I asked, shifting slightly.
"How am I supposed to enter someone's dream? I don't even possess that kind of ability."
Reha's eyes sparkled faintly behind the glass, as if amused by my confusion.
"There is a certain, evil entity. He is using the aforementioned person's dream as a ladder to ascend toward godhood. I intend to stop him, and to do so, I must wake the sleeping individual—or calamity will inevitably strike this world."
'And how exactly do I know you're not just another form of that evil?'
The thought nearly left my lips, but I restrained it.
She continued without pause, "To enter someone's dream requires a very specific type of sorcery…"
Her gaze lingered, sharp and unrelenting.
"…The sorcery of spectrums."
I frowned, confusion coiling tighter within me.
'Spectrums? So, all that is needed to step into someone's dream is an affinity for that sorcery? How absurd.'
I had never even heard of such a power before.
"I… I don't understand," I said slowly, carefully.
"I know nothing of this affinity. How could I possibly be the right candidate for such a task? Surely someone else—someone more qualified—exists."
I stopped myself mid-protest, about to continue, "So… I'd like to refus—"
But my words died in my throat, as a cup of tea landed in front of me with a muted thud, making me flinch.
A heavy, almost tangible aura pressed down upon me, forcing sweat to bead along my skin.
The crimson-haired girl returned, carrying the tray with unnerving calm.
"One or two?" she asked softly, setting the cup before me.
My eyes narrowed, and for a fleeting moment, darkness swept across my thoughts.
'Eh… What, now? One… two…?'
Her gaze casually lingered on the sugar cubes beside the cup.
"…Ah… this…" I muttered, my body relaxing fractionally. "Yeah… no.Thank you. I don't do sugar."
I forced a smile, tone light, while my mind still raced like a storm.
She nodded once, almost imperceptibly, before stepping back.
"Gaaah…"
And just like that, the suffocating aura seemed to ebb slightly, letting my ragged breath return.
'D-damn…'
I lowered my eyes to the cup, letting my fingers curl slowly around it.
'This is… not good.'
The warmth seeped into me, an absurd, small comfort amid the chaos that surrounded me.
'Seems… I have no choice but to comply…'
I let out a small sigh and turned my gaze once more to the person behind the glass, forcing the friendliest smile I could muster.
"Aaa… on second thought, I think I'll do it… Though I will need to lay down a few conditions first…"