Chapter 500: The Truth of Lost Realities (2)
Ash and the others stepped through the rift.
The transition was seamless, yet the mont they erged, the air itself felt different — thicker, heavier, as if reality had been stretched thin and then released.
The first thing that hit them was the silence. Not the absence of sound, but a profound, living quiet that seed to press gently against the ears.
They stood on a vast, rolling plain of soft, knee-high grass that shimred with a faint, pearlescent sheen.
The blades were not green, but a shifting palette of muted silver, pale lavender, and warm gold, each strand rippling slowly even though there was no wind.
In the distance, gentle hills rose and fell, their slopes dotted with clusters of trees whose trunks were smooth and bone-white, branches spiraling upward in impossible, elegant patterns.
The sky above was not blue, nor purple, nor any single color.
It was a slow-moving canvas of soft, blended hues — twilight pinks bleeding into deep indigos and faint, star-like pinpricks of light that drifted like fireflies.,
Everything felt... alive.
Not in the way a beast or plant is alive, but as if the very concept of existence was breathing, thinking, and dreaming all at once.
Ash stood still for a long mont, taking it all in. His golden eyes swept across the horizon, a faint look of genuine intrigue crossing his face.
"This place really is different," he murmured. "It doesn’t seem like a verse that vanished because it was weak. It feels more like one that might have crossed into sothing else—and refused to be contained."
Elysia floated beside his right shoulder, her golden eyes wide with fascination as she looked around.
"It’s... actually alive..." she murmured. "Even after countless evolutions, no world or celestial body in Pantheos had ever gained sentience."
Ash could easily snap his fingers and bring life to anything he wished, yet it had never occurred naturally—until now.
Not even Primordia had truly begun to speak, but from what they felt, from what they saw, this place existed on an entirely different level.
Creara, on his left, crossed her arms, her black-and-red hair drifting as she scanned the landscape.
"It’s beautiful... but I could do better... much better."
Unara, perched atop Ash’s head, leaned forward with excitent, her tiny hands clutching his hair.
"Hehe, sure... but you’ll just be stealing soone else’s idea," she teased, prompting Creara to shoot her a sharp look.
Ancestor Sealing stood a few steps behind them, his ancient face pale and tense. He looked around with visible unease, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.
"This place...," he muttered, voice low. "Are you sure you want to explore without any preparations?"
Ash didn’t respond imdiately.
He took a slow step forward, the grass beneath his feet rippling in soft waves as if acknowledging his presence.
He looked up at the shifting sky, his expression calm but deeply focused.
"Dreams," he said simply. "This is a Reality of Dreams. Sothing... that was ant to be anything... to beco anything."
Humm!
At the sound of those words, the space in front of them stirred.
The air shimred like heat haze on a sumr road, then coalesced into a figure.
She was beautiful in her simplicity — a woman of average height with long, flowing hair the color of white-blue.
Her skin was a soft, pearlescent white that seed to glow from within, and her eyes were deep pools of shifting colors, reflecting every dream that had ever been or would ever be.
She wore a simple, flowing dress of pale blue that moved as if it had a life of its own, and her bare feet hovered just above the grass, never quite touching the ground.
And looking at her Ash smiled. "Speak of the devil and she shall co."
With a glance, he could tell she was the Reality of Dreams itself — the living embodint of the Lost Reality.
Hearing those words, she looked at Ash with confusion, but interest.
"Your eye for detail is impressive," she said, her voice soft and lodic, like a lullaby carried on a night breeze.
"But... I’m no Devil, but the Dreams of all Dreams." She said feeling the need to correct her introduction.
"Don’t be so literal, woman," Creara said, floating beside Ash with a smile. "He was only speaking figuratively."
The woman — the living Dream — turned her gaze to the group floating around Ash.
Her shifting, colorful eyes moved slowly over each of them.
Seeing Elysia’s calm and laid-back presence, Creara’s mischievous energy, and Unara’s mix of both.
Internally, she was deeply intrigued and slightly unsettled.
’How...? How did they enter this place?’ She wondered knowing that this place had... been in a state of unbecoming since being ’lost’.
’Yet they stand here as if they simply walked through an open door.... and him.’ She thought as her eyes drifted to Ash.
Before she could voice her thoughts, Ash cut through them.
He looked around the landscape as if searching for sothing specific, his golden eyes scanning the rolling silver-lavender hills and the slow-moving dream-clouds above.
Then his gaze settled on sothing in the far distance — a faint, pulsing glow on the horizon that seed to draw his attention.
He smiled.
"Look," Ash said, his tone casual but carrying clear intent, "I will help you... but I want so information in turn."
The woman — the Dream — tilted her head, her flowing silver dress shifting like mist around her.
"Help ?" she echoed, a faint note of surprise in her lodic voice. "And what information could you possibly want from a forgotten place like this?"
Ash’s smile remained as he t her gaze directly.
"The truth about these Lost Realities.... And... the Mother."
At the ntion of those two things, the woman narrowed her eyes. She studied him deeply — her shifting, colorful gaze trying to pierce through the calm, laidback smile on his face.
But she couldn’t.
No matter how hard she looked, Ash remained an enigma to her.
She couldn’t see through him, couldn’t read his intentions, couldn’t even sense the full depth of his power. It was as if he existed slightly outside the rules of her own reality.
’Could he be beyond the first stage of omnipotence?’ She thought as she sighed softly.
"Very well," she said, her voice settling back into its lodic calm. "I am the Dream... and I am this entire Reality, the embodint of all that could be, and all that was never allowed to be."
With a graceful motion of her hand, a soft, ethereal mist swirled around them, shaping a cozy circle of floating silver grass and softly glowing dream-flowers.
"If you really want to know... are you up for a story?" she asked, her colorful eyes eting his with quiet intensity.
"It’s not a short one, and I’m not sure you will be the sa after hearing it."
Ash’s smile didn’t waver.
"I have ti," he said simply.
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