When the dim archive tunnel flickered back to life, the air still carried the scent of dust. Eileen stared straight ahead, her knuckles white from gripping her weapon, clearly still shaken by the previous moment of terror.
"He… disappeared." She spat the words out cold as ice. "Impossible. No physical reaction, no heat source. It's either a projection—or your hallucination."
"Thanks for having so much faith in my brain," I took a deep breath, forcing a casual tone. "But if it really is a hallucination, at least it proves my subconscious is pretty good at special effects."
Eileen didn't smile. Her frown was sharp enough to crush a mosquito."Are you sure he was really your friend? You haven't been infected by the nightmare, have you?"
Her words made me pause. Infected? I instinctively touched my arm; my skin was still cold, but there was no trace of nightmare residue. Yet a creeping unease began to spread in my chest.
Because she was right—I couldn't be certain.
I had seen Mark in a dream before, and at the time, I assumed it was just an illusion, a trick the nightmare used to torment me. But now, he appeared in reality, smiling so naturally, his voice so vivid. He even used secret signals that only the two of us understood.
This either meant he was truly alive—or that the nightmare had become precise enough to replicate memories.
I wanted to believe the former, but my rational mind kept hammering at me:—Dead people don't come back to life.—You are being manipulated.
Eileen spoke coldly: "I have to report this. The Bureau needs to know."
"No!" I nearly shouted, my voice exploding through the tunnel like a gunshot.
Eileen narrowed her eyes, studying me."You're hiding something."
I sighed, forcing a wry smile."I just… want to understand the truth first. If the Bureau finds out, they'll classify him as an A-level nightmare target. Alive or illusion, he'd be forced to die—again."
Eileen remained silent for a long time, finally lowering her weapon, though her expression stayed wary. She muttered,"You better be careful. The line between illusion and living isn't something a 'reunion with a friend' can explain."
I nodded, but a weight settled heavily in my chest.
That night, I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, Mark's smile appeared before me, so real it made breathing difficult.
Was it really him?Or just a carefully crafted phantom?
The next day, I even saw his reflection in the mirror, walking past me from behind. But when I whipped around, there was nothing.