The Fantasy Secret Medicine was a marvel, an alchemical breakthrough so powerful it could shatter the soul.
Its effect was singular and sublime, the user would be plunged into the most beautiful memories of their life, vivid as reality, more real than dreams.
The joy it brought was overwhelming, absolute. But it came with a terrible price.
Spiritual dependence.
Not addiction of the body, but of the heart, the mind, the soul.
Why? Because life, for most, is filled with more pain than pleasure.
Joy is fleeting. Loss is inevitable.
And when people are given the chance to relive their happiest moments, over and over again, where else would they ever want to be?
Soren knew this. And he knew exactly who this drug was made for.
Taneleer Tivan, the Collector, was not just a hoarder of treasures. He had once been a father.
A husband. Long ago, he had shared a quiet life with a fellow Elder and their daughter, on a small, nameless world at the edge of a forgotten star system.
But that life had crumbled.
Their daughter disappeared, lost to time or fate. His wife, immortal yet weary, succumbed to the despair of endless existence.
She gave up. Faded away.
That loss had shaken Tivan to his core. He feared the same would happen to him, that his mind would rot from the inside out, that immortality would become a prison.
So he found a purpose. Collecting. A goal. A distraction. A way to give meaning to an eternity of tomorrows.
But as the eons passed, the purpose became a pattern. Then the pattern became a habit. And now… it was nothing but empty repetition.
He no longer collected to live. He lived to collect. And deep down, he knew it.
Soren had seen that emptiness in his eyes.
And now, he would offer him something else.
A new obsession.
One day later…
The quiet room opened with a hiss of air. Soren stepped out, calm, sharp-eyed, and utterly certain of what he held in his hand.
In the Collector's grand sitting hall, surrounded by floating orbs, stasis tanks, and forgotten relics, Soren approached the ancient being and placed a small crystalline vial on the table between them.
The liquid inside shimmered like melted stars. Dreamlike. Irresistible.
"Taneleer Tivan." Soren said with a smile. "This is my offering in trade."
The Collector raised an eyebrow. He leaned forward, inspecting the vial without touching it.
For a being who had seen the birth of galaxies and the end of civilizations, it was rare for him to encounter something he could not immediately identify.
"This…" He murmured, eyes narrowing. "What is this?"
Soren leaned back in his seat, arms crossed leisurely. "Something you've never collected before."
"I can tell it's alchemical, but the composition is unreadable. There's something… metaphysical in the resonance." The Collector frowned.
"It reacts to thought."
"Smart of you to notice." Soren twirled the vial in his fingers.
"As you can see… the Fantasy Medicine." He said with a faint smile. "Crafted from the purest essence by Everlife Medical Hall."
"A masterpiece among masterpieces refined, condensed, perfected."
He held up one glowing vial, letting it catch the ambient starlight of the room.
"It can make your existence… more exciting."
The Collector raised an eyebrow, mildly amused.
"Exciting?" He echoed. "You do realize I've lived since before most galaxies had names?"
"I've watched civilizations rise and fall like tides. My collection spans wonders beyond comprehension. What could you possibly offer me that I haven't already experienced?"
Soren simply leaned in, voice steady.
"Power. Rarity. Knowledge. You have all of it, but when was the last time you felt truly alive?"
That struck something. The Collector's smile faded. A silence followed, long and thoughtful.
He looked down at the vial again, and something stirred in his chest…
Emotion.
"…It's been a long time." He admitted quietly. "Since I felt anything like that."
Soren nodded, still wearing that confident, maddeningly patient smile.
"This potion… it's not illusion. It doesn't create false dreams, it unlocks your true memories."
"The rawest joys, the first awe, the love that once anchored your soul."
The Collector hesitated for only a moment more before reaching forward, fingers brushing the cool glass.
He lifted the vial and stared into its swirling glow. Then, without a word, he tipped it back and drank.
For one heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then, his eyes widened. His body locked in place, and his expression turned to awe.
Inside his mind, the floodgates broke open.
He was no longer in his chamber.
He was standing at the dawn of time, at the cusp of universal creation, feeling the pulse of raw existence.
He saw her his wife smiling at him under the light of their twin suns. He felt her hand slip into his again.
He saw his daughter, still a child, running barefoot through the gardens of their long-lost world, laughing, calling out...
"Father!"
The emotion slammed into him. Love. Hope. The feeling of meaning.
He dropped to his knees in the vision, breathless.
Back in the real world, Soren sat in silence, watching.
He didn't need to speak. The potion was doing its work.
He could see it in the subtle tremble in the Collector's hands. The glistening tears that slowly formed and didn't fall.
The distant smile that appeared, and broke on that ageless face.
Time passed.
Fifteen minutes became an hour. An hour became several.
Eventually, the glow faded from the Collector's eyes. The potion's effect had long since worn off, but he had refused to return.
When he finally stirred, he was trembling. His cheeks were wet. His voice was hoarse when he spoke.
"...Soren."
"Yes?"
"Thank you." The words came slowly, like stone being lifted off his soul. "I… I haven't felt like this in millennia."
Soren only nodded. "I told you. I bring true value."
"You've given me something I forgot I lost."
"And now." Soren said softly, "You understand what's at stake. This is not just a deal, Collector. It's a beginning."
"You needed a new purpose and I'm offering it."
The Collector didn't hesitate this time. He reached out, picked up another vial, and without a word, drank again.
As his gaze clouded over, falling back into memory's embrace, Soren rose silently from his seat and left.
Outside the chamber, the atmosphere was tense. As Soren walked through the halls of the realm, heads turned. Whispers rippled among those who saw him.
"Isn't that… him?"
"Keep your voice down! That's the one who killed the Red Devil. You wanna end up vaporized?"
"Wait… is that the Collector's maid with him? Did he actually meet the Collector?"
"He met him and lived. That tells you everything."
As Soren passed, the crowd parted. No one dared look him directly in the eye. His presence was too heavy, too dangerous.
But not everyone reacted with fear.
From the edge of the crowd, a hooded figure watched with sharp eyes.
When Soren came into view, the figure's gaze narrowed, and without a word, they turned and slipped away into the shadows.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream