Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56
YorifielNext chapter is Seraphim vs The Gryphon. Seraphim's world is a long chapter and might end up in 30 parts, sorry this is a crucial part of the story since this is meant for understanding Seraphim's power and the future enemy that they'll face.
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Why Are My Dreams Realistic? C̸h̷a̵p̴t̸e̸r̴ 33 : S̷eraphim's World : (part 12)
'Swoosh!' ‘Clang!’ ‘Clang! “Haa… Haa… Haa…” The mass of flesh was out of breath between the monster that constantly warps between places as it continuously attacked. The taste of temptation beneath the undying pain as the souls screamed within the torn-out pieces of flesh that act as the combined souls' bodies. 'Swoosh!' 'Click… Boom!' Repeated steps of the light that constantly swaps out of places. The Gryphon protected itself within the darkish aura it emitted between the many tentacles it created. The constant crackling of the tentacles hitting each other made an electric forefield enveloping its entire body. 'Groan!' "Thou art I, a mere mortal, to eat the forbidden fruit of life inside another. Haa… Haa…” The monster was emitting a dark air around itself, pulverizing anything near it. Its body was like a lycanthrope, but its face was like a lamprey. It cannot fully speak and can only create noises. "GIAEKK!!!" The Gryphon looks at an obscure monster resembling a hybrid of
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? C̸h̷a̵p̴t̸e̸r̴ 34 : S̷eraphim's World : (part 13)
"Momento, replerium." The words that scream beyond the hollowed eyes of death. A blind knowledge ends up being a dead end to a world beyond saving. Power is nothing within fate that binds the natural course of existence in the world. "Sepellium, e anima corpus Christi." The body of God that was once a human was indicated in the codex of the one that holds fate. I saw it; I touched it, and it burned me until all of me became the ashes that flew with the breeze of the world. To the repeated sighs I cast when I was created in the depths of hell. It was one hell of a pain that I will never experience again. Where are my masters? Why didn't they help? Why do they need to create me even though they are much more vital? Was I only just something to be played upon, like a mini-boss character of a game they once played? I don't know anymore… …… [The crickets created a rhythmic sound into the night sky.] "Ughh…." My head hurts… What happened anyway…? Zero had woken up. His head hurts w
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 35 : Seraphim's World : (part 14)
The voice of death echoes through you. * …… “Haa… is it time…” A soft gurgled voice echoed through my soul when I entered the dark room that was hidden behind the iron door that has now broken, frozen solid with Seraphim’s magic. I felt a chill in me as I heard a soft voice of a little boy coming out in a dark room. ‘Clang.’ [The sound of a chain being thrown by an unknown force.] Seraphim condensed the ball of flame into a small one. She pointed her index finger to where the sound was coming from so that the ball of light could move to the direction where she pointed. Slowly, the darkness that envelops the room where the truth was hidden gleamed between the corners of the room. The smell was as inviting between the bones and decayed flesh that continued to restore itself like time continued to play within the corners of the room. ‘Clank… Clank…’ [An unknown force continued to rattle the chains.] Little by little, the sound of the chains are getting louder and louder as they
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 36 : Seraphim's World : (part 15)
“How’d you know my name?” Seraphim was thunderstruck by the sudden calling of her name even though she didn’t introduce herself. “Of course… I already knew what would happen… since I touched the book…” the boy snickered. “What is the book of the world?!” “The book of the world… is a reference… a manual… a book… a codex of the Gods, or rather a one that is in the making of becoming a new God. Every… paths… every action… every insignificant miserable way of living the author took were all written in the codex of the world…” The boy created a projection again between the small lights he had created earlier. “The codex… is somewhat a powerful tool that can predict the future from the real world and this world… The book… indicated that our world was merely just part of many volumes that were written by its holder and… ‘cough! cough!’ continuously being written…” “If this world is just part of a volume that the author had written. Then how did you manage to touch the codex in the first
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? C̸h̷a̵p̴t̸e̸r̴ 37 : S̷eraphim's World : (part 16)
La… la~la, la~la… The time is drawing near… The trumpeters are preparing themselves. One blow, two blows, a long blow of air into the hole of a trumpet. “Brr… brrr. Brrrr…~” The sound of the bell rings into the bright blue sky that was depicted in the book, but for me. It’s nothing but a pale and an ugly color.. The piano, of the one I love. The violin that I used to hate. ‘Whistling~’ Haa… Can I still save her even after all these years? After all this century? After all this… Millennium of guilt? I guess I’ll continue playing the role that I had craved. [A beeping sound that beeps in a 5 second interval.] …… 7 years later… Things are going well. Everything is in a state of euphoric happiness. Life is blooming in the world that they built together within the four corners of the home that were once a lonely place, but right now. Everything is together with a happy face into the starry night. A lot has happened in the last five years. Wars have stopped with the peace treaty b
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? C̶h̶a̴p̴t̶e̵r̴ ̴3̶8̶ ̵:̵ ̷S̶e̸r̸a̷p̸h̵i̶m̶'̷s̷ ̶W̶o̸r̵l̵d̶/̶E̶n̶d̵ ̸O̷f̸ ̶L̶o̵n̷e̷l̵i̸n̴e̴s̶s̸ ̴:̶ ̵(̴p̷a̸r̷t̶ ̴1̵7̶)̴
I looked at Zero with my eyes begging to go back in time, as he could do it at his own will. My body was hurt from the sudden fall, and my head is dizzy, but I was still able to look at Zero and use his powers. Zero, who’s still defending himself with his other self, was still struggling. His sword was cracking little by little. Bits of iron were being disintegrated into the dark aura of his other self. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Continuously laughing at Zero while he struggles to defend himself. ‘Crack!’ 'Gzzzzzzt! ’ Zero then did something with his sword. He enchanted it with time so the friction would create a sound and pressured air that would blow the other soul away. The sparks between the forte of Zero’s sword and the thrust of the claws coated with a dark aura created small sounds that could be used to create a small wave of pressurized air. ‘Brrrrrr….’ ‘Hisssssssssss…..’ ‘Crack!’ 'Crack! ’ I tried to move myself so I could help Zero create the attack that he had prepared. I h
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Č̵̩h̵̺̀ȃ̴̼p̸̰̐t̵̤͝ĕ̸͚r̴̹̆ ̷͕̀3̵̳̄9̸̨͐ ̸̛͍:̴̥̊ ̴̦̌D̴̜͂e̶̘͌a̴̰͋t̸̤͌h̸͔͘ ̷̬̆F̴̮̎r̷̟̊o̷̜͛m̴̺̑ ̵̬͌M̶̜̽ë̵̞́ ̴̣̒:̴̼̽ ̷̦̋(̵̖̀1̵̹͋8̵̧̿)̶̪͐
Zero was covered with Phoenix flame all over his body. His aura, infused with his power, made him faster; it looked like he was disappearing in sight with his afterimage still in front of you. My eyes filled with amazement at how far Zero had come. I was so baffled by this that I stared at him for too long. “Phew! Are you okay, Seraphim?” Zero looks at Seraphim with a distressed look. “Y-yeah! I’m alright!” I replied. Thankfully, I was able to master this. Thanks to Ralph.” “Don’t mind me!” Ralph shouted while still fighting the hand in the sky. Zero helped me stand up. His hand was shaking when I grabbed it. His body, which was soaked with the black blood of the creatures, was burning with the flames covering him. As I finished healing him, I asked him if he was okay. “Are you sure you’re fine? You’re still shaking even though I healed your wounds.” “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little bit tired, I guess.” His body was still shaking. “Do you want to rest first? I mean, I think we co
Why Are My Dreams Realistic? Chapter 40: I Am The Narrator/ The World Beyond Worlds
I don’t have a function. My voice is a way of conveying a particular thought to help one specific person. I have created it merely to wake him up and tell his stories—an endless story of happiness. I don’t have a lot of powers, but I can alter the story in my way. I’m not the writer, as the book of the world is not in my hands. I’m nothing but a useless preo-recreation et merci… There are multiple I’s in the Book of the Worlds verses. I am designated to help the most important person with the role of altering the world. I will continue my job even if you hold them in this chapter. “You don’t have a choice nor the body even to retaliate the will that your master had given to you. The world had already stopped when I flicked my fingers earlier. Just continue acting the given role to you and narrate what will happen to the characters that your master had written.” I said as the God that holds the book. Even if you had forced yourself into this particular chapter, you still can’t touch
Latest Chapter
- 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,
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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
