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Flowers.

There were flowers everywhere.

A sea of them stretched as far as Florian’s eyes could see—blooms of white lilies, roses the color of blood, and strange, otherworldly petals that glowed faintly in the dim light.

The air was heavy with their fragrance, too sweet, almost suffocating. The sight alone tugged at his mory, and a chill slid down his spine.

’This place... I know this place.’

His breath hitched. This was the sa field where one of his dreams 1had taken place. He rembered it clearly—too clearly.

’So... I’m dreaming again?’

But what kind of dream was this?

A mory?

Or another nightmare?

Because the last ti he dreamt of this place... it had been anything but beautiful. He could still recall the screams, the suffocating pressure, the endless terror.

A nightmare carved so deep he knew he could never forget.

But now... silence.

The world around him was not chaotic, not violent—just quiet. Oppressively quiet. Eerily still, as though the flowers themselves were holding their breath.

Then—

"You..."

Florian froze. The voice was sharp, startling, and achingly familiar.

It was his own voice.

No... not his voice.

The original Florian’s voice.

Slowly, heart hamring, Florian turned his head. His eyes widened the instant they locked onto another pair of bright green ones—his green eyes, but not his. T

he other Florian’s gaze mirrored his shock.

Both of them inhaled sharply.

"You..." Florian whispered back, his throat dry.

For a long, drawn-out mont, they simply stared at one another, as if confirming they weren’t just imagining it.

"Is this... real?" the original Florian asked, voice trembling. "Can you... see ? Hear ?"

Florian’s chest tightened. ’Is this really happening? This doesn’t feel like a dream...’

"I-I..." he stamred, then finally nodded, though his knees felt weak. "Yes. Yes, I can. You’re... you’re the original, aren’t you? You’re Florian."

The other Florian’s eyes widened further, panic flashing through them. "How could this be possible? No—never mind that. I don’t have much ti. I have to tell you sothing. To warn you."

"Warn ?" Florian echoed, confusion and dread twisting together in his gut.

The original Florian nodded urgently, taking a step closer. "Sothing’s going to happen. I’m not supposed to—"

Before he could finish, a hand clamped tightly over his mouth.

Florian flinched. "What the fuck—?!"

He rushed forward instinctively, but before he could close the distance, another hand shot out of nowhere, stopping him cold.

Cold fingers gripped his chest, shoving him back a step.

Two figures materialized from the shadows between the flowers.

Familiar. Horribly familiar.

The sa two that had appeared in his nightmare before.

The one holding Florian now lood above him—its body a mass of writhing darkness, with only white eyes and a gaping, crooked mouth glowing faintly from within. It looked at him almost sorrowfully.

"I’m sorry," the shadow murmured, its voice distorted, echoing.

Florian struggled, thrashing against the grip. "Let go—let go! He was about to tell sothing!"

He jerked his head toward the original Florian.

But the other prince was also being restrained, another shadowy figure wrapping around him like a vice.

This one had no mouth, no expression at all—just a blank abyss where its face should have been. Its hands silenced the original Florian, smothering the words before they could escape.

Both Florians thrashed in unison, their movents frantic, desperate, as if sheer will could break the shadows’ hold.

The flowers beneath their feet rustled violently, bending and twisting as though alive, stirred by their struggle.

"No! Don’t take him!" Florian cried, his voice breaking, pulling against the cold, vice-like grip holding him back. His arms strained forward, fingers clawing at the empty air.

The original Florian’s muffled cries echoed his own—green eyes wide with fear, silently pleading. He jerked against the faceless figure, but its grip was rciless, unyielding.

Then the ground began to shift.

The flowers beneath the original Florian rippled like water, petals glowing faintly as they began to swallow him whole. His legs sank first, dragged down into the sea of blossoms.

Florian’s blood ran cold.

"No! No, stop—don’t take him!" He lunged forward again, only to be yanked harshly back by the shadow holding him. His chest ached, his throat raw as he scread, "Florian!"

The original’s hand stretched out toward him, trembling, desperate. His eyes locked onto Florian’s with a silent, urgent plea.

’Don’t go—don’t leave here!’

But the flowers surged higher, wrapping around his waist, his chest, his shoulders. His muffled shouts grew fainter, his eyes brimming with fear and sorrow before finally—

He vanished beneath the bed of blossoms, swallowed whole.

"NOOO!" Florian scread, his body shaking violently as he clawed at the shadow restraining him. "Give him back! GIVE HIM BACK!"

The field quivered, the silence splitting into a low, hollow roar that rattled through the flowers. The shadows lood closer, suffocating, drowning him in darkness—

And then—

Florian shot up.

His body jolted upright, drenched in sweat. His chest heaved, lungs desperate for air as he gasped and gasped. Tears stread freely down his face, hot and relentless, blurring his vision.

He clutched at his chest, disoriented, the dream’s weight still crushing his ribs. His breaths ca out in ragged sobs.

’It felt so real. He was right there—I could hear him, see him—’

But before panic could take full hold, he felt it—sothing warm and heavy pressing gently against him.

Florian froze. Slowly, his tear-streaked eyes lowered.

Resting on his chest was a small, sapphire-scaled dragon, curled up like a cat. Its wings fluttered faintly as it blinked up at him, bright blue eyes soft and serene.

For the first ti since waking, Florian’s breath hitched—not in fear, but in stunned disbelief.

"...Azure?"

"Kraa?"

The little dragon tilted its head, then let out a small chirp—almost like a laugh—before nuzzling against his chin.

Florian’s tears poured anew, but this ti, they weren’t only from fear. He let out a shaky breath, trembling hands lifting to hold the tiny dragon close.

"Azure..." he whispered again, voice breaking, yet filled with sothing fragile, sothing he hadn’t felt since the dream began—relief.

CH246

You are reading Help! Get Me Out of My Sister's Chapter 501: ’The Flower Field.’ on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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