“The Hunting Party isn’t on our trail anymore, and we’re both alive–in this world, that’s a victory,” Vandread told him.
He didn’t respond, only listening as the carriage rolled through the uneven forest trail, riding over protruding roots and causing the critters of the verdant region to scatter in its path.
Days ca and went, all spent traversing the stretch of the massive forest. It was larger than he could ever anticipate, especially since the carriage moved constantly, pulled at a respectable pace by the mare that seed to never require rest.
He learned it while pestering Vandread, but the steed that was solely responsible for pulling the carriage was a special breed that hailed from the demon continent; they didn’t exhaust, but did need to rest every few days, and could live off of sunlight alone.
So boring…He thought.
There wasn’t much to do, but luckily during their stop in Elsia, Vandread had picked up a few books.
At first, he thought they were bought solely for his entertainnt, but he did rember that the man was quite the advocate of literature, as he usually had his head down in a novel.
For food, most of what Vandread had stocked up on were potatoes, bread, and cheese; it was hardly tasty, as the bread beca hard and the potatoes were dull and bland, but he made do with what they had.
–
Falling into slumber on one, unsuspecting night, he wound up in a dreamscape unlike any other..
“…Huh…?”
As he sat up, he found himself sitting on wooden floorboards, but there were no walls to the room he occupied. Past the few square ters of floor, the entirety of the cosmos sat around him.
This is a dream…He thought.
Even if it was a dream to him, he felt all too conscious of it, and it was almost too real. He sat on that lone floor that was anchored to nothing but darkness amidst the endless stretch of space.
The swirls of galaxies afar, colorful and blinking with stars within, felt near and imposing in depth and size.
He carefully crawled to the edge of this wall-less room in the bowels of the cosmos, peering downward to find an infinite depth below; darkness and twinkling stars inhabited what was below. This sight made his stomach drop as he retreated his gaze from the seemingly infinite space around him.
It all made him feel like an ant, if that; perhaps a piece of lint or even an atom–either way, it was all too unfathomable.
The cosmos seed to breathe as if a sentient lifeforce; the nebulas swirled, though slowly, any movent was a massive march of creation.
This is weird…He thought.
“Enjoying the view?”
He nearly jumped out of his skin from the words spoken to him, having thought he was alone. Following the words, he turned around, finding an unknown entity sitting on the floor across from him.
He didn’t know what to make of the entity in front of him; it looked vaguely human, but that’s all it was: “abstractly human.” It possessed no notable features, no complexion, but it did smile.
“I’ve got a question or two for you, Ethan.”
The words that spilled from its lips, which seed to be forged out of coalesced particles, shook him to his core.
Fourteen years.
It had been over fourteen years since he’d heard that na.
“—” He looked forward silently with wide eyes.
Ethan,,,.? That’s right…that was my na, he rembered.
Over the course of the childhood spurred by his rebirth, he’d buried his past life deep into the trenches of his mind. Just the single utterance of that na discombobulated him.
“Sorry, my bad. You prefer ‘Emilio’ now, don’t you?” The entity asked casually.
It was simply naseusting; he wished to forget that past self, but the mories of his helpless, fragile body were vivid in his mind again.
“…Why did you say that na…? Who are you!?” He asked.
As he spoke, his voice beca deeper and raspier—to his surprise. The way the entity looked at him, sitting across the room in space from himself, he realized there was sothing happening to his body.
The young, short form of his lengthened and sprouted before his eyes, though thinned and beca pale and scarred. He held his hands up in front of his gaze as his fingers lengthened, becoming bony and rigid.
“…No…”
It was “Ethan Bellrose”—that body was unmistakable to his eyes; that form that was to him the most despicable and grotesque.
“Why do you mourn the sight of your own self?” The entity asked.
“What did you do!? Turn back!” He yelled.
The entity tilted its head, “I’ve done nothing wrong. All I’ve done is try and give you a nostalgic sight. I apologize.”
To his surprise, the enigmatic figure obliged, snapping its fingers before he looked down, finding his body returning to its normal form, smaller but healthier, flourishing with life.
“—” He sat there, panting as his heart had already been riled up.
“Interesting. I was aware you wanted to escape your life, but you actually wanted to escape your skin, didn’t you?”
“…Who are you?” He asked.
The entity, which seed tangible but not at the sa ti, smiled, staring at him with unseen eyes, “? I suppose you can just call a fan of yours.”
“Huh…?”
He was noticeably taken aback by this introduction, or lack thereof. The idea of this being a simple dream seed distant to him, as he was conscious and able to form coherent thoughts, but it all made little sense to him.
“A fan of mine?”
“That’s right. I’ve taken a liking to you. That’s all, really. So, I’d like to grant you so aid,” the being told him.
“Aid…?”
“First, I said I have a couple questions for you, didn’t I?” The faceless entity said.
“–” He looked at the mysterious being.
It was a setting that still felt daunting in all forms; space swirled around them, deeper than any chasm and more vast than any sky; pale blue spirals in the form of galaxies were distant, but still felt in their imposing presence.
“Do you recall eting anybody that struck you as odd before?”
“Odd…? I’m looking right at ’em…” He answered.
The figure chuckled, “Answer earnestly now. This is important–for your good, especially.”
“I’ve t a lot of odd people, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Let narrow it down for you,” the formless entity said, “White hair, gold eyes–anybody like that?”
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