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Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 15: Fly, Little Angel Fly.
Seraphim’s Story: POV Now, here's the tale passed down as a children's story for many generations. It recounts how everything came to be in this world, describing the moment when man encountered the creator of magic and became the early user of the gift bestowed by the angel. In the Alps, an angel resided, its skin exceptionally beautiful as it concealed itself under the magnificent splendor of its wings—beautiful, pale, and fragile as glass. There, the angel spread its wings, revealing the pallid body of a beautiful man. Its wings shine so brightly, like the sun on top of the Alps. Every living being began to walk towards the beautiful light that the angel cast into the Alps. Every being was fascinated by the light. They walked without care for their surroundings and began to trample each other as their eyes were only fixated on the light. Then, they were greeted by the angel, who floated in the sky. As they arrived at the top of the mountain, everyone was taken aback by the ange
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 16 : "Really? An Introduction? A Fight? A Memory?"
Mori’s POV: It's highly unusual. A story like that seems so impossible to happen in my own view of life. Who would have thought that this world has a history of such decadence toward the gifts they've received and to someone they hold most dear in their life? Is it weird for everyone to become blind and think differently when the thing they look up to is gone? Now that I think of it, this story is rather intriguing. The world, once living in peace, has now scattered and turned into a vast wasteland of destruction and death. Who would have imagined such a transformation? Once filled with vibrant colors, everything changed due to the sin committed by Serpentine and the angel. It all turned to nothing, leaving behind distrust and painful experiences that have lasted for thousands of years, shaping the world into the desolate state we see now. But that's how the world works. Even if the prophecy hadn't been discovered, the world would always end in disaster. Everything happened as a res
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 17: Migrianitae: The Elemental World Of Hues
The infinite colors of this world are undoubtedly a breathtaking sight that I won't forget. It's a beauty akin to a spiraling streak of stars in the sky. This world doesn't even feel a bit dead. My chest leaps with joy, emotions swirling without contrast. It's like a sphere holding everything in a single spot, creating an interplay of emotions as I gaze all over the fortress. This is the fortress, a world that feels more conspicuous than outside the barrier, standing tall and covering the world with vibrant hues. “Sigh~” I let out a heavy sigh as I stared into the sky. I tried to reach out my hand through the single orb of colors dangling in the middle of Migrianitae's heavenly settlement. A torrent of colors spread, producing an out-of-this-world spectacle. My jaw hangs loose as the feelings of disbelief, fear, and agony disappear just by looking at the sky. The beating of my chest calms down, transforming itself from the anomaly of joy. It's a lively place, brimming with warmt
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 18: Modeliăvimas : (part 1)
Life, like a vast and fertile spring, ebbs and flows with the passage of time. A fleeting moment dances on the boundary between death and an unyielding existence, indicating a never-ending pursuit of happiness. Life, akin to the first runner entering a sullied world, unfolds into its own greatness. Who would have guessed that existence itself would offer me a smile amidst the darkness enveloping my heart? Who would have thought that everything could be so fun? *Before entering Modeliăvimas* Okleneir's glittering magic color in the sky left quite an impression on me, and it somewhat affected the structure of the sphere. The things they'll generate in the simulated roleplay will have free will, much like people. Free will assures that no one succumbs to the insignificance known as destruction. Everyone thrives, akin to bliss, in a world that predicts future joy in the memories of certainty. I don't want to let them down with this game. Even if it's just in this simulation, I want t
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 19: Modeliăvimas : (part 2)
Life blooms like a waterfall, an abundance of creation showcasing diverse landscapes flourishing with flowers. Picture a world of ice, entrapped in a singular fog, with an unusual volcano formation beside it, creating a mystical atmosphere. An island atop the sky gazes upon the entirety of the world, witnessing every change that unfolds without a worry for its own existence. At the bottom of the ocean lies a realm of creation, with sea creatures gracefully swimming amidst the saltiness that engulfs seventy percent of the land. It's a vast world beneath the sphere, hidden and teeming with life. Everything seemed possible—that's what I believed. Events could unfold without my or anyone else's intervention. Expressing your desires to others means sharing thoughts without the fear of alteration. However, it appears life doesn't adhere to such simplicity; it plays around like a capricious tool. Everyone adhered to the rules and followed the rules of the game. An accurate depiction of w
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 20 : The Cries In My Sleep. The Wake In Thy Dreams : (part 1)
MIRAI POV: Seraphim’s Room I'm glad that Mori opted to go for a walk without us. I feared he'd be discouraged if we left him alone. I don't want to see him cry or get upset with us; I want him to continue to smile. As I let him go, a heavy feeling settled in my chest, as if letting him go now would have consequences later. Maybe I'll come to him later after we've finished hearing what Seraphim has to say. Right now, though, we're preoccupied with something much more dire, something in need of immediate resolution. "I've called you all here without Mori because I have something of utmost importance to discuss before you know. Dead. The ruination of everything. But before that. Have you all managed to calm down from the memories I shared earlier?" Seraphim asked, sipping on some coffee from a small cup. “Well… we’re probably okay, right?” Louis asked me and Flure. “Y-yeah…” I think Flure is still quite shaken, as I could see his hands trembling. “Mhm. I’m fine.” I replied. Turning
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 21 : The Cries In My Sleep. The Wake In Thy Dreams : (part 2)
A muffled voice spoke. Entity. (3) Entity. (1) …you… are… noth…ing but a… creation… to the hopes… of others… a… trash… piled… hope… even if… you… continuously… cling… for happiness… the end… will always come… I feel cold. …there …is …nothing… but darkness… in the… abyss of fate… to the lines of consciousness… to the starry sky… filled with our eyes… constantly… looking… finding… laughing… staring… at the crevice… within… the cracks… of dimension… I feel lonely. …to the one… you call… friends… [You are nothing but an illness to the fabric of life of everyone around you. A hopeless creation of the world.] I feel like someone is saying something to me. A voice that is different from Atelier. A voice of a man that is telling me something. I feel cold… Yet I’m not shivering. It’s different. The space around me is much different from what I’m comfortable with. [A girl is crying in the distance.] I hear a cry in the distance of a girl on the sidewalk of a house. It was beggi
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Somewhere : The Story Of My Creator
[You have awakened from a world that was enveloped with darkness.] [You can't move your entire body even though you think you're pushing it.] [You keep hearing these tiny droplets of water in the distance, gradually getting closer between 5-second intervals.] [You feel warm on one side of your body but cold on the other.] [Some voices tell you something, but you don't understand what it is saying.] [You're currently floating in the darkness upside down.] "... This is such an unusual sight between you and this world." [You heard a familiar voice.] "Ek@!@0328l --- .... -.-.-- / .-- .... .- - / .... .- .--. .--. . -. . -.. / - --- / -.-- --- ..- -.-.--" [You feel your soul slipping away as the sound of droplets becomes a 0.00001-second interval.] [Time is moving so slowly that everything feels weird for you.] [You're experiencing the effects of vertigo within the darkness of death that lingers within you.] [One. Two. Three. Four. Five… You kept on counting. To pass the time.]
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- Why Are My Dreams Realistic?
Chapter 78: "Metamorphosis."
Flure’s POV: The colors I see in my eyes are strange. Spheres of various colors floated around, with cogs and rings shaping it into a watch-like structure. I could tell the time of people merely by gazing at the colors that everyone emits in this unique eye that I have. I've watched many people's time pass and disappear, just to be replaced by a door of a different hue and structure. I cursed my eyes because even if they could see the colors and the remaining time of everyone, it wasn't useful and only distracted me from the world. The doors of the dead, which come out of nowhere, have an eye-catching green and black radiance. Opening it leads to another world, the person's life etched on the door. My eyes aren't beneficial. It became the foundation of shame and dread I tried so hard to conceal it under my cheerful smile and quips. Whenever I see a clock on a person's haze that emanates a brilliant glow, I can sense the end of their time, revealing a stopwatch. I tried to catch it,
- Why Are My Dreams Realistic?
Chapter 77: "It's The Little Thing We Have In Life That Makes Us Happy."
Amid life's equation, death blooms, and music and illumination emanate from the gentle glow that encompasses everyone and cherishes them all. A sun as pale as the souls of everyone hides in the corner, embracing everyone at the tower's entrance. Turning around, I saw kids my age eagerly making their way up to the tower, aspirations and dreams stoked by the blaze of desire. “Self conquers the first and of victory.” was engraved over the entryway of the tower. Symbols of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit fuel the tower's surroundings. Recognition of the God revered by the tower's creator. A profound line of teaching that adorns the tower with the creator's immense pleasure and joy, signifying his love for his God. Then, I noticed two colossal rings encircling outside the boundary of this world. Nothing within my line of sight allowed a clear view of the distant structures where this tower was constructed; only the children walking towards the entrance and the sand they tread upon we
- Why Are My Dreams Realistic?
Chapter 76: The Flower Bed For The Deceased
“Ah. Your future is yet to be determined, slowly fiddling amassed of different consciousness.” He slowly raised his right arm and swayed it around. “You can hear it—the voices of the world. Slowly drawing you in the far shore. Leering fear. Captivating.” The winds blew as fast as the bird's flight. It only lasted for about a second, as if teasing you with its cold and hapless emotion. As I listened to Abelard’s talk, my chest began to beat a little bit faster. “You’re still a child. Although in mind. Your soul is pure, filled with endless desire, but filled with storm—a strong will to live and be born anew.” “What do you mean by that?” I asked. “It means that you’re a soul filled with avarice. You’re soul is white as pure but tainted with avarice. That’s what I’ll say to you.” He began to change his foresight. The world began to shape and change as if he was altering it. “Ah. You’re a lost cause of humanity living amongst ye humans. How’d you wandered here, I wonder.” Abelard sai
- Why Are My Dreams Realistic?
Chapter 75: Abelard The Wise
→ The story revolves around the wondrous epiphany of a tower. Life, flourishing. Living is detrimental. Souls, unbothered. Killing was a wonder. Death is attrition. → On the contrary. The tower expresses its gratitude towards you as the person who lifted the heights of impertinence. How truly satisfying. Humans would be filled with sorrow and revulsion from the serpentine consciousness of human life to the place called “dreams.” →The precipitous pathway along the twisted vision of scrumptious desire for asceticism on top of the tower. Ascending a top to receive the holy retribution of everlasting gaiety, searching for something, creating something, and dying for nothing. ***** My body drifts away to the field of white egret flowers, slowly drifting to a door where the sun radiates a much brighter light. Ahh…It’s not a place filled with darkness. Memoirs of the past constantly hunt me among the path of emptiness, which has changed to a light that fills that void—caressing my head
- Why Are My Dreams Realistic?
Chapter 74: “Here We Are, Back Together Again.” (Part 2)
Droplets of water on the shower head continue to fall in a second interval. It resounded between the empty monochromatic walls of the bathroom, creating a rhythmic sound. A melodic hymn that resonated in the depths of my heart as if it was part of my bow. Time is a toxic trait that encourages me to turn my eyes to the cycle of life. A toxic devolve of imaginary people playing along in your head as you indulge in the hobby you picked up. It’s probably a bad idea to focus on oneself and forget the others as you go on your journey without thinking of your friends. We couldn’t live on our own since no man is said to be an island. Friends is like a sweet orange. It tastes great when you pick it up at the right time. You’ll know that it's good when the scent can be smelled even without peeling it. But if we decide to forget them, they’ll start to rot and lose their patience and will choose to cut out all ties. Thankfully, my friends aren’t like that, and I’m glad to have them. Haah… Rela
- Why Are My Dreams Realistic?
Chapter 73: “Here We Are, Back Together Again.” (Part 1)
Amidst all the things that happened in the past months, nothing has changed, even a tiny change in the world. The world is still a monochromatic place that we call on as life. Life is flourishing with new faces of people living in this world. Is that their persona? Or was it their faces? I’m still uncomfortable to see the faces of different people living in this world. Seclusion… I’ve probably done it as we’ve got back. I'm playing the violin. An instrument that I found inside a case filled with normal papers and some other crumpled papers tainted with a black and indecipherable letter. Flure was staring at me as I played the notes the same way as it was written. {Hello, since this is the beginning of a new story, my life purpose isn’t complete yet. There was something that I was supposed to do last month, but I decided not to do it since I’m currently preoccupied with the violin. I decided to play this instrument to learn more about the original me. I want to know how amazing I was.
- Why Are My Dreams Realistic?
Somewhere: The Hidden System
[I could hear the rattling sound of the clouds, reverberating in this colorful world. I can see everything in my eyes now. The blurry vision was gone now and I could see everything beyond the horizon. I can now see the mountain range covering another world that was once blurry in my vision. My hand can slightly move against the thick layer of ice I’m confined with. This place began to glitch, and the person I talked to said he needed to go somewhere. My head feels lighter than usual.] [The wind suddenly became erratic. The ripple it created in the air was so fulminating that it felt like the world fell from heaven. Then I saw his figure in the distance, walking somewhat like a flunk. It came to my mind that he had returned with the green light as it sent waves of heavily restricted words into the sky. His eyes were dead tired from his swollen face, and dark eye bags. He greeted me as if I was a friend on his lonely place.] "Oh, you’re awake already… Did you have a nice dream?” Dēria
- Why Are My Dreams Realistic?
Chapter 72: "Oh? This Is The End? Kinda Fast For Me. Would There Be Another One?"
“Now. What should I tell you? There’s a lot of things that I wanted to say, but I think it would take a hundred years to actually tell everything to you.” Linus looks so gleeful with a smile that would’ve taken aback every person. It feels like a trek to the path in front of him. I'm still vigilant, but not in a way where I’m wary. I'm still slightly uncomfortable, but it feels weirdly warm when I finally reach him. The identical void in his pupils has a sense of deceit and falsifies anything he says. But for some reason, I feel relatively calm and full of hope maybe because it was about me. It felt like I was walking on a putrid path in one straight line. Every step felt like a mile. Every step felt like I was descending to my own hell. “Ngh…” A cacophony of noise rings my head frantically. The noise inside my head was so unbearable that I had to stop on the track and lay my head again, using pressure from both hands to stop it. I smashed my head in the soil, which had stopped t
- Why Are My Dreams Realistic?
Chapter 71: "This Was The World I Created For Him, And Yet You're All Using It For Yourselves!?"
“Heh.” The boy had a grim smile when I turned around. There was a hint of disgust and annoyance hidden behind his innocent smile. His eyes were as dark as a void filled with nothing but a hollow death as I stared directly. I tried to wipe off the tears on my eyes, but it continued to create anew. This sense of nostalgia is like I’ve seen one of my close friends. My chest continued to pound uncontrollably from the intense emotion that I was feeling. I’m trembling all over my body. My temperature continues to rise exponentially. Then suddenly, with that sense of relief, my mouth opened with a smile of satisfaction I had never experienced. “I guess your soul would never forget me even though your memories were long gone.” The boy changed his smile to a genuine one. Seeing him smile made my heart pound faster and faster. “You never really understand this kind of emotion, huh? You’re still the same even though I’ve met you countless times in different data.” A musical instrument reso
