Cassia sat down again beside the broken analysis machine, where white plumes of steam still hissed continuously.
"Hello, human friend." The same electronic voice spoke again, carrying a deep fatigue that even the spring rain could not wash away.
"Hello." Cassia leaned against a piece of wreckage and responded, "Are you the intelligence of the analysis machine, or just a pre-programmed system?"
"I am not the intelligence of the analysis machine, nor am I a pre-installed program. Have you ever heard an analysis machine's electronic voice fluctuate with emotion?" The voice replied. In its weariness, there was a hint of joy, as if being able to respond to him was an extraordinary pleasure.
Cassia lowered his head. Through the shadows cast by interlocking gears, he saw faint red lights flickering inside the machine—a radio device installed within the analyzer, used to send and receive information.
"Then who are you, and where am I? Are you communicating with me through this radio?" Cassia asked.
"Yes, friend. Through this radio, our conversation becomes possible. As for who I am, that can be explained shortly. Where you are? In truth, you are only within your own mind. Due to the surgery, you are traveling—or rather venturing—inside a dream created by your own brain." The radio transmitted its answer.
"Surgery? So I'm still lying on the metal table, undergoing some procedure, and being here is just a dream my unconscious mind is producing?"
"Yes, you can understand it that way. But one thing must be clarified: this dream, in a certain sense, can affect your real self. Put simply, if you cannot escape this dream of your own creation, it could bring death upon you." The voice conveyed its exhaustion.
"You seem to know a lot about this," Cassia said cautiously. "Let's start with who you are. Are you someone from the military academy, using the analyzer to probe my dream, or testing me? Is this part of the surgery too?"
"Of course, the power of the analyzer is impressive. But invading a dream is equivalent to entering someone's mental domain—a task only gods could accomplish, and even then, it is impossible for us. Our mental connection is itself a miracle, formed under many necessary conditions. As for the military academy, I have some connection with them, though not as faculty. As for who I am…" The voice paused.
"Friend, since you ask that, you probably have not encountered any intelligent beings beyond humans, have you?" the radio asked.
"Intelligent beings beyond humans? You mean the monkeys and gorillas in cages, or battlefield predators like feral wolves and blood flies? They seem to have some awareness, at least understanding basic human intentions, even planning strategies against human habits…" Cassia searched his memory for knowledge of other creatures.
"Friend, I mean intelligent species like humans, for example, dragons. Have you heard of them?" The electronic voice sounded anxious.
"Dragons? Sorry, I haven't read much, and I've never heard of such a species. Or is this something you're making up? After all, we are speaking through a radio." Cassia showed no emotional reaction but mentally scanned for any information regarding the term "dragon." Naturally, there was none.
"Sigh. It seems you are merely a patient undergoing surgery and have not yet been exposed to the military academy, your empire, or even a sliver of the truth about the continent," the voice said with a tinge of regret.
"Truth?"
"Yes, the truth. The foundation of your military academy, your empire, and the major powers across continents. You may only know steam-driven machinery and some basic applications of electricity, right?"
"Of course. As you said, steam machinery is my forte, but electricity is something I haven't explored much," Cassia replied.
"Exactly. Steam is the foundation of all things; electricity is a derivative, an evolution of steam power. We dragons exist as a hidden force in the struggles between nations, always capable of tipping the scales at crucial moments. That is our role, though it is regrettable for us personally."
"The existence of dragons is, in itself, the truth." The voice conveyed both pride and profound regret.
"So I'm getting close to the truth now?" Cassia's mouth curved in a faint smirk, his words teasing.
"Friend, I do not expect you to believe me yet. I don't know your rank or status in the military academy, and whether you will ever meet dragons is uncertain. But this is a question we can resolve upon our encounter here.""You are undergoing surgery at the military academy and have been injected with an unknown substance. That much, at least, you must be certain of, right?" The radio's tone grew more energetic.
"Yes. If what you say is correct, I am indeed inside my own dream. I was bound to a metal table, injected with something, and then fell unconscious. When I woke, I was in this scorched land," Cassia answered.
"Good. Then I can explain the essence of your surgery."
"Essence? I've always wondered what these surgeries were really for. No one has ever answered me," Cassia said, curious.
"It's simple. The surgery involves transplantation and injection. They replace your cornea, all structures in your cochlea, and sensory systems in your nose. They implant muscles from another species into your major muscle groups. The injections contain substances extracted from the blood of another species—you may call them Perfect Evolutionary Substances. Finally, between two and sixteen inhibitory tubes are implanted, each containing neural tissue from another species."
"So, naturally, the other species you refer to is dragons like you?" Cassia asked.
"Exactly, but with 'enslaved' prefixed to 'dragon.' That is the regret I mentioned." The voice carried a deep melancholy.
"The essence of the surgery is this: by transplanting dragon tissue and injecting substances evolved over billions of years from dragon blood, the human body can become comparable to a steel war machine. That is the power of the surgery. Of course, this refers to stages three and four; even stages one and two make a human appear monstrous to ordinary people," the radio continued persuasively.
"You're telling me all this not just for simple knowledge, right?" Cassia knew the voice had ulterior motives.
"Of course. If you believe me, everything will proceed smoothly," the voice said lightly.
"I believe you," Cassia answered.
"Thank you for your trust, but let me speak a bit more. This concerns our mutual interests; if I don't reveal some benefits, even if you trust me, you won't be willing to help. Though I am in a completely passive position," the voice added self-deprecatingly.
"First, allow me to introduce myself: my name is Sukalyus."
"Cassia."
"Cassia, if our trade is completed, you will soon have a chance to encounter dragons in reality. And given your abilities, you may even have the opportunity to hunt dragons someday. By their nature, dragons will never befriend humans."
"That will become clear in time," Cassia replied, attempting to accept the concept of dragons.
"Cassia, first point: you have spent too long in your dream. I imagine you no longer recall how long that is?" Sukalyus began discussing the matter at hand.
"Seems so. But it's a dream, so it shouldn't be a problem, right? My sleep has always been poor, dreaming is natural," Cassia responded, sensing an unusual undertone in Sukalyus' voice.
"Normally, yes. As I said before, failure to escape the dream can affect your real self. If you weaken and die in the dream, the result in reality is permanent unconsciousness, or brain death. This is not exaggeration—it's true," Sukalyus' tone was serious, without deceit.
"Moreover, though you have spent a long time in the dream, only fifteen days have passed in the real world," Sukalyus continued.