Chapter 265: Wake Up

"Are those tears in your eyes?" I asked, my voice laced with mockery as it reverberated through the dreamscape. "Oh, don’t be shy. You’ve come all this way into my dream, haven’t you? Surely you didn’t think it would be so easy."

The boy’s head whipped around, his small body trembling as he tried to pinpoint the source of my voice. He spun too fast, stumbling backward over the uneven, jagged ground. His legs gave out beneath him, and he landed hard on his back with a muted thud. The knife fell from his grip, clattering against the floor and skidding just out of reach.

The battlefield began to twist and distort around him, the blood-stained earth shifting like liquid. From the shadows, I stepped forward, my movements slow and deliberate, savoring the moment. My glowing, otherworldly eyes fixed on him, and I allowed my lips to curl into a predatory grin that I knew would chill him to his core.

"So, what’s your plan now, little one?" I asked, my tone mocking as I towered over him. Tilting my head slightly, I feigned curiosity. "Did you think you could just walk in, cut a little thread, and be done with it?"

The boy’s lips moved, but no sound came out. His face was pale, and his small, fragile body trembled violently. He tried to push himself backward, scraping against the blood-soaked ground, but his limbs were too weak to cooperate.

I crouched down slowly, meeting him at eye level. My grin never wavered. If anything, it grew wider as I leaned closer. "You don’t look so good," I said softly, my voice almost gentle. "What’s wrong? Scared? Lost? Oh, don’t worry. I can guide you."

The boy flinched, his wide eyes reflecting pure terror. I could see the tears streaming down his face now, leaving streaks of clean skin on his blood-smeared cheeks. I raised my hand, and with a lazy snap of my fingers, the blood figures in the distance began to move.

The boy’s head whipped around, his panic doubling as the figures—abstract, grotesque forms—shambled toward him. Their shapes twisted as they approached, sprouting limbs where there shouldn’t be any, their bodies morphing into horrifying, otherworldly shapes.

He let out a choked scream and began to crawl backward, his hands scrabbling against the ground. "No!" he cried. "Stay away!"

I laughed, the sound echoing through the battlefield like a crack of thunder. "Oh, now you want to leave? But you came here, didn’t you? So brave just a moment ago."

The blood figures loomed over him, their distorted forms casting elongated shadows that swallowed him whole. Their grotesque shapes shifted with each passing second, as if they were waiting for my command to strike. I rose to my full height, stepping closer to the trembling child.

Before I could speak again, Death’s voice echoed in my mind, her tone both amused and scolding. "Dear, you should stop teasing him. You’re going to leave him with permanent trauma at this rate."

I couldn’t help but chuckle, pausing to glance up at the swirling crimson sky. "Yeah, you’re probably right. He looks like he’s about to piss himself."

Death’s laughter was soft but warm in my mind, like the faint chime of a bell. "Be kind, Alex. He’s just a child."

I sighed theatrically, letting my shoulders slump as if I was giving up a grand performance. With a wave of my hand, the battlefield began to dissolve, the blood-soaked ground fading into nothingness. The oppressive crimson sky gave way to a serene, sunlit meadow, complete with blooming flowers and the gentle sound of birds chirping.

The boy flinched again as the scene changed, his teary eyes darting around in confusion.

"Hey, boy," I said, my tone much softer now. "Open your eyes. Look around."

Tentatively, the boy obeyed, his trembling hands lowering from his face. His wide eyes scanned the meadow, his expression shifting from terror to disbelief. The blood figures were gone, replaced by fields of golden flowers swaying in the breeze. The knife that had fallen from his grasp was now nowhere to be seen.

He blinked rapidly, as if struggling to comprehend the sudden shift. "W-where...?" he began, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

I crouched down again, this time maintaining a more neutral expression. "This is still my dream," I explained. "But I thought I’d give you a break. The battlefield was a bit much, don’t you think?"

The boy stared at me, his lips trembling as he struggled to form words. "W-why... why are you doing this?"

"Why?" I repeated, tilting my head as I considered his question. "Because you wandered into my mind, boy. Did you think I’d just let you poke around in here without consequences?"

He swallowed hard, the color returning to his face slightly. "I... I didn’t mean to—"

"Didn’t mean to?" I interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "You were holding a knife. What were you planning to do with that, huh?"

The boy lowered his gaze, his hands clenching into fists. He didn’t answer.

I let out a slow breath, straightening up and crossing my arms. "You’re lucky I’m in a good mood," I said. "Otherwise, this little adventure of yours might’ve ended very differently."

The boy flinched again, but I didn’t press further. Instead, I glanced around at the peaceful meadow I’d conjured. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of the battlefield, a reminder that even in a dream, I could choose to wield my power with restraint.

"You should leave," I said finally, my tone firm but not unkind. "This isn’t a place for you. Go back, I will meet you in reality."

The boy hesitated, his wide eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but then he simply nodded and turned and disappear.

"Now time to wake up. Hope Misturi was able to wake up also."

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