*The Girl Who Walked Out of a Dream***
The neon haze of Greyline swirled like a living ghost below them as Bungo and Kairo stepped off the rail bus. The sky seemed bruised, stained violet with storms brewing behind the skyline. The wind smelled of iron, dust, and distant thunder.
Bungo could still feel the sting of the earlier vision—his mother's voice, the woman in white, the monstrous shape behind her. Every step he took felt heavier, as if the roads themselves remembered something he didn't.
Kairo glanced at him.
"You're too quiet. That's never good."
"I saw her again…" Bungo murmured. "In that dream—or whatever it was. She spoke to me. She knew my name."
Kairo's face hardened. "Then it's starting. We need to find *her* before they do."
Before Bungo could ask, Kairo stopped walking.
A rhythmic clicking echoed behind them. Almost musical.
Heel… toe… heel… toe…
A silhouette stepped out of the mist.
She was around their age—maybe a bit younger—with long ink-black hair that fell like liquid shadows around her shoulders. Her eyes, oddly muted like smoldering charcoal, flicked over to Bungo with unsettling recognition.
A faint smile touched her lips.
"Found you," she whispered.
Bungo shivered.
Not from fear—
…but from a strange familiarity.
She walked with a dancer's balance—measured, floating, too graceful for someone wandering a dead city.
Kairo tensed. "Bungo, stay behind me."
But she just tilted her head, studying them like she was viewing a memory that wasn't hers.
"You're exactly like he described…" she said softly.
"Like *who*?" Bungo asked.
Instead of answering, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small metallic spiral. It glowed with a faint blue pulse—alive, rhythmic, beating like a second heart.
The wind suddenly cut out.
Silence swallowed the street.
Then—
The spiral unraveled like ink spilling underwater, stretching into thin lines of light that circled around her. They painted symbols in the air—ancient, fractal shapes that made Bungo's veins buzz.
Kairo hissed. "Emotion scripts…"
But something was wrong.
These scripts didn't distort space like fear-creatures.
They didn't pulse like anger-born beasts.
These symbols… moved **with** Bungo's heartbeat.
The girl stepped closer.
"My name is *Mira*," she said. "And I came because your dreams called to me."
Bungo's throat tightened. "My… dreams?"
"Yes," Mira whispered. "You've seen the White Woman, haven't you?"
Bungo froze.
"How do you—?"
Mira lifted her hand. The symbols responded instantly, swirling gently around her wrist like tame fireflies.
"Because she showed you *through me*. She showed me *you* long before tonight. You've been dreaming of her since childhood. And she… she's been waiting."
Kairo grabbed Bungo's shoulder. "Don't listen to her. She's manipulating you. Dreams are their easiest doorway."
But Mira shook her head gently.
"I'm not your enemy," she said. "In fact… I'm the only one here who remembers what you really are."
The streetlights flickered violently.
A distant crack split the sky.
Something enormous growled within the storm clouds overhead.
Mira's eyes widened.
"They've already seen me."
She turned sharply. "We have to move. Now."
"Who saw you?" Kairo demanded.
She didn't get to answer.
The air behind them warped—like a wet sheet being pulled outward. A black fissure split open, leaking thick dark mist that writhed with hungry shapes.
Emotion-born creatures—fear-wraiths—spilled out.
But these ones were different.
They had **faces**.
Human faces—frozen in silent screams.
Mira's voice trembled.
"They're not from the forgotten emotions… These are the ones the AIs kept alive on purpose. The watchers."
The fissure grew wider.
The ground vibrated.
The creatures lunged.
Kairo pushed Bungo forward. "Run!"
But Mira didn't move.
She stepped in front of both boys, raised her hands, and the glowing symbols around her ignited—blinding, spiraling outward with explosive force.
A shockwave erupted—shattering the pavement, tearing the creatures apart like dust.
When the light faded, Mira was breathing hard, trembling.
Bungo stared at her, stunned.
"How did you—?"
She met his eyes.
"Because I'm like you," Mira whispered. "A dreamwalker."
The storm roared above them, lightning exploding across the sky.
Kairo cursed under his breath.
"That's impossible."
But Bungo barely heard him.
Because Mira stepped closer again…
And her fingers brushed lightly against Bungo's Temple.
A soft, electric whisper escaped her lips:
"Bungo… you're not just a boy who dreams.
You're the key to ending everything."
Bungo's heart skipped.
And for a terrifying moment…
He believed her.