They had left the world of dreams, but the Nightmare still wore Jenkins's form. Alexia was confident that if Jenkins could only speak, he would undoubtedly prove his identity; such was her trust in him. But at that mont, neither of them could utter a word. A flicker of realization told her the Difference Engine had anticipated this; it would never allow Jenkins the chance to speak with his own nightmare.
"If he tried to prove his identity through his actions," she thought, "the fake one would simply mimic him."
Sure enough, the two Jenkinses moved almost simultaneously. It was a gentle patting motion, the sa gesture he used to pet Chocolate. But their movents were nearly identical; the Nightmare matched Jenkins's speed perfectly.
Alexia pondered, not retracting the vast, intricate pattern that was gradually spreading across the ashen sacrificial ground beneath her feet. Instead, she once again drew upon her power, invoking the energy of the bracelet on her right wrist.
The bracelet resonated, spontaneously seeking the object of her affection, but it too failed to distinguish the real Jenkins.
"Which one of you can draw a small cake?"
A significant portion of the silencing magic had been expended, finally allowing her to speak. Alexia didn't waste any more energy trying to make the two Jenkinses talk; instead, she posed a question.
It was the first ti she had spoken since arriving in this Mysterious Realm, and the coldness of her voice startled even herself. The petite woman disliked this kind of power—purely mathematical, completely devoid of emotion. Perhaps the woman she was before eting Jenkins would have embraced it, but now she had better options. She felt no attachnt to the power she wielded in this mont.
Both Jenkinses took out their pencils and drew identical cakes. Under the power of the Creation Pencils, the cakes beca real and flew before Alexia. She nodded.
"Identical. Well then, that leaves only one option."
The mortal goddess declared, unleashing the flowing power in a final burst. The mathematical formulas within the geotric pattern at her feet shifted, moving toward the two Jenkinses and forming a kind of arcane lock that fixed them firmly in place. Both of them struggled for a mont, but upon realizing they couldn't break free quickly, they ceased their movents.
In truth, even if Jenkins couldn't speak, Alexia had other ways to identify him. But she had run out of patience. All things considered, the simplest thod was the most practical.
Then, Alexia commanded the materials she had taken from Jenkins's bag to float before her. First ca a glass jar filled with water. A blue fla appeared beneath it, and the first to fly out were two small glass bottles containing the basic ritual components. As if guided by an unseen hand, they sprinkled their powdered contents into the jar.
"Sugar and spice."
As the sugar and spice entered the water in the jar, heated by the fla, Alexia's chant transford the clear liquid into a swirl of dreamlike colors. Next, the two small cakes drawn by the Jenkinses flew into the jar and lted as if they were ice eting fire.
"And add a little sothing nice."
The liquid in the heated jar turned a brilliant, iridescent color. It began to spin counter-clockwise on its own, yet not a single drop splashed out.
"Don't forget the mysterious ingredient J."
Alexia took the strands of Jenkins's hair she had collected from her pillow and dropped them into the colorful liquid in the jar.
Instantly, the blue fla she had summoned shot upward, completely engulfing the sides of the jar. The fla slipped from Alexia's control and began to shift into a deep, profound black.
"Cooked with the greatest passion."
Alexia lightly drew the tip of her right index finger across her pale left wrist. Two drops of red blood fell into the jar, and a fragrant aroma imdiately filled the air.
"When the ti is just right—"
Alexia's voice was steady, and very cold. She hated this version of herself. Though she had once told Jenkins that "mathematics can calculate everything," she had long since recognized the limitations of that statent. After encountering the knowledge Jenkins had shared with her, she had abandoned the path she was now on. She knew there was a better way, and she had learned to cherish everything in her life. She knew that Jenkins's appearance had given her better choices, and she would not allow anyone to take him away.
"A dangerous cat—"
"ow?"
A cat's ow ca from sowhere unknown.
"—will appear before your eyes."
White smoke billowed from the mouth of the jar, and then, a small black-and-white cat, claws playfully extended, leaped out of the colorful liquid. With a kick of its paws against the jar, the cat launched itself into mid-air, opened its mouth, and swallowed the jar and the black flas whole. As gravity pulled it back down, it let out a satisfied burp.
"Which one is the real Jenkins?"
Alexia reached out and caught the cat she had summoned, holding it by its waist. The little black-and-white kitten flowed like water from the petite woman's grasp, scurrying up her arm to her shoulder, then leaping from her shoulder to the top of her head. It stuck its head out, twitching its nose as it sniffed the air.
"ow!"
Chocolate's little paw pointed to the one on the right. Then it leaped from Alexia's head onto the white ash of the ground. After a light landing, it bounded excitedly toward Jenkins, leaving a small trail of paw prints on the ashen surface.
Only when Chocolate had safely landed on the right-hand Jenkins's shoulder did Alexia release the true Jenkins from his bonds.
Jenkins, able to move again, let out a long sigh of relief. He then tried to control the cat on his shoulder, stopping it from licking his face. The mont Chocolate landed on his shoulder, his ability to speak returned.
"I'm here, I'm here. It's okay, it's okay."
He murmured, patting the adorable cat comfortingly.
This was the simple thod Alexia had settled on. Chocolate would never mistake Jenkins's scent; of that, they were both certain.
But she had no ti to spare for this heartwarming scene. Alexia directed all the formulaic symbols at her feet toward the Nightmare-Jenkins. Once its identity was exposed, the fake Jenkins lted away like colorful modeling clay.
Alexia had read about the long-extinct 'slis' in a book, and this creature resembled them. However, while the Nightmare's form was that of sludge, its color was an iridescent black.
That black hue seed to contain every illusion, the profound color of dreams themselves.
"Can you control it? And why are you here? It's dangerous."
Jenkins finally asked Alexia, having managed to calm the excited Chocolate.
"It's no problem. Can't you see the state I'm in? Controlling it is right at the limit of the power I can currently command."
Alexia replied, wanting to embrace Jenkins but unable to free her hands.
"Don't hug just yet. I need to focus on this thing. Later, we'll have all the ti in the world to hold each other."
"Alexia, those are the most beautiful words you've ever said to ."
Jenkins couldn't help but say. The petite woman smiled, and together, they turned their attention to the contained sludge. Until this thing was dealt with, it wasn't the ti for jokes or flirtation.
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