Mi-Yung went to the chamber, sighing in slight relief even when William ended up a total mess. At least Old Dream left without amassing any further problems, so that was good. She was still furious about how it had happened, and it ultimately matched her expectations.

  William's arm wasn't in good condition, but... something was. By this point, the cracked Arcana calmed down. Crouching close, still a bit from the redness, she saw it. Little lines, almost like threads, escaping and fixing what had broken, and it was even scratching the surroundings.

  "Now... that is curious..." Should she talk it out with Rey, or did they know? What about Old Dream?

  An unconscious Walker was as good as a sleeping one. Playing with it might not be great or possible. William's body wasn't even tired, blood remained down, and it didn't escape more than it had to.

  She figured enough and waited a couple of more minutes until those lines fixed the base and disappeared further. When she came closer, the final dissipation led to red dust advancing to his stressed Emblem, and any foreign objects were out of the picture—any needle, wire, gone.

  She saw a lot of things today and couldn't blink twice about it. She grabbed William and left the chamber and the whole place behind.

  William was her responsibility. Old Dream either didn't want to go far, accepted her because he had to, or William was interesting enough, but not a good match for his compromises. So he went with the easiest solution: not making Mi-Yung any more mad and letting William off scot-free and broken.

  ***

  Old Dream found his peace in one of Assembly Island's finest chambers, looking like a dark room without a place for the sun to play. He went there right after playing one little game, and sat on the cold, hard floor of ancient rock, and thought really freaking hard about this entire day. He met the boy, played with him, and saw him.

  Surrounded by continuously revolving air visible to the naked eye, one would wonder if it was Fog or something more prudent. It was his Arcana, but no Arcana, too. It was more subtle, as if the space and air molecules fought for their own existence, while he and everything else fought against it, or for it.

  "You've been awfully quiet upon our return," an old voice said from the darkness, revealing no man but a scrupulous idea.

  "I am... thinking."

  "We have a visitor. Waiting."

  "Dachy, we know." Old Dream said, and one dark wall opened up, letting in an old gentleman who didn't appear like a Walker at all. He wore sporadic clothing that bore no resemblance to a proper, high-class uniform. His beard was thick and neat, and he was much more approachable than Old Dream, whose sheer aura and face seemed oppressive.

  Still, Dachy and Old Dream knew each other for all their lives, and it will continue that way, not better or worse, but at least Old Dream knew how to make an appearance and talk. Again, his own appearance was already there for him, doing half of the work on its own.

  Dachy walked as if he had come out of some spa. He wore a loose robe, and as he emerged from the darkness, his bald head and face were visible to Old Dream. He wasn't that old, and his feet were bare; no Emblem was visible on him, and his face wasn't shocked, upset, or anything. It was emotionless until he saw Old Dream's surroundings, and then a little bit of him.

  "What happened?"

  "My days are twitching, old friend. I feel like the monster crawling and crying, and one more is alive."

  Dachy looked around. "It's usual. The test is why? I should have come, it seems."

  Old Dream put one of his arms up, shaking as if it proved to be very difficult because of his meditation, revolutions, or his body wasn't how it should be. It was neither. "It attacked the nerves. Like Infinitum, but thinner. More towards the existence, and it hurt me. Me, friend. ME?!"

  "US!" the foreign voice argued, giving neither of them time to think.

  "Arcana doesn't do that," Dachy said, observing that old hand that soon went down.

  "What does?"

  Dachy frowned, had his guesses, yet didn't say them. "What can go against your Rank 8 body? That child, his parents, and his past and future are crucial factors, but for whom? To us, maybe? You saw something. Felt it. It fought for its Pride, while the boy is alive and also part of its Pride. Maybe even a pack? More ideal...perhaps?"

  "No. I didn't fight." Old Dream said. "He is Wiped."

  "Wiped? Who..."

  "I find it odd. None resembled outside interference."

  "Have you looked from inside?" Dachy made an immediate assumption, which ended up surprising Old Dream.

  Dachy was always thinking, always broadening the sight over the distant horizon, for his Specter Eyes were beyond great at watching and feeling the world on top of his back.

  Like gems, truly.

  "Are you calling us weak?!" the shadow voice echoed from the twist of space, shuddering the space and shades around Old Dream.

  Dachy paused, squinting his eyes as he looked at them. Old Dream was getting frustrated. That was not a good sign for anyone. "Do you want something from me?"

  "I made the final choice regarding them and Mi-Yung."

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  "We did?!" The shadow voice said, a bit confused rather than resentful.

  Both Walkers ignored it, for it was a much better choice than not.

  Dachy creased his beard with his fingers. "I suspect that is the best choice. Awakening is everything else. What else is worth missing? The fact that you were unable to let it go and let her have it speaks for itself. You feared it in your spirit, and now it is in your body, which means it was the correct choice. The boy. How is he?"

  "I didn't think of anything. It was hard to see; he is stubborn, and Mi-Yung is also there. She worries me with that spirit and actions. She was so crazy, I expected her skin would break."

  "Then fake it the fuck up, then."

  "Aye to that. Kaufman is another thing; that silly bastard has ignored us for years. He showed up and..."

  "He visited me recently," Dachy revealed.

  "WHAT?!" Old Dream and the shadow voice said at the same time, both equally flabbergasted and almost storming further.

  "It was nothing bad. We drank and talked. He became curious about Viktor's son and discussed what he was up to and what we were up to with the fragments. That is all. Mi-Yung and everything else worsened it afterward, and he kind of wanted me to brush it off. Of course, I rejected him. He is not like us. The same thing was that thing the next night, which he did behind my back. He hasn't changed in many ways, but the worry of this comeback is elsewhere. I fear he has changed, Dream."

  "Small matter." Old Dream waved his hands dismissively, still sitting in a meditating stance: arms folded and legs crossed, and his Arcana was wild as he attempted to get rid of foreign poison.

  "Dreadus isn't a small matter either. He will be our equal if he succeeds with the current Wall."

  "That's good."

  "Agreed, but the thing is... the Wall might go higher with that girl."

  "And? It is not our responsibility. It's his! You heard him and our discussion and how it is not OUR point! Those little new monsters are not in our backyard over nothing. They growl, die, and live for as long as they can."

  Dachy shook his head, and his frown deepened. "Never mind. This old fool looked at it too deeply."

  "Take a break sometimes." The shadow voice said, teasing this old, silly freak.

  Dachy turned back to the darkness. "I will leave you both to your own devices. Heal your wounds... or try to, but don't pretend I said nothing. A new era is here. We ought to look at it rather than do what we have done with the previous ones."

  Old Dream grumbled something under his shivering nose and let him go.

  The light grey shadows wished for something else. "Kaufman is trouble. Big trouble! I... miss him. Miss us both."

  "His return means nothing to me."

  "Says you!"

  Old Dream slapped his forehead and wished this wicked Ego would grow some brain rather than think for itself.

  ***

  In dreams of terrible memories, William carried the good ol' darkness, chambers, screams, and intensity beyond his dreams.

  Red claws came at him, churring his insides, patting his head, or forcing his body to do things he didn't want to do. There were people. Many faces screamed or spoke to him, waiting for something or someone, or just haunting him in general.

  Then, he made it work himself, clutching his fists, lurching at bandits or people who wanted to hurt him, or... not. It wasn't always people. Darks were like much more menacing shadows in here, even if one was a mere Hellgar.

  Beasts could look intimidating, unlike that handful Hound that Celeste might have for reasons he better not understand. Hellgars were more menacing than people, who often broke quicker, but people were more detailed, conveying thoughts and words with visible faces and clearer manners.

  And right now, William had a head full of people. Nasty people, even. His fist went through them, soaking in crimson as he smiled and wept in crimson blood. The knife penetrated his side, yet he felt nothing.

  He growled, making inhuman noises as crimson followed him like shadows, expanding in steps and loudness, and his right hand moved next, clutching that person's arm and twisting it to pieces like a stick. A loud scream pushed the boundaries, forming echoes that went far away into unknown spaces.

  He did the same with the neck, creating a gap for more crimson sea to pour into an ugly black liquid, where he stayed, kneeling, screaming as he hoped for this dream to end.

  It was more killing, working for a living, and not dying.

  Above him and all around, like a tree coming up with weird ideas to grow roots upwards and wide, a massive red demonic figure spread. Fully red, it copied his movements, screaming even louder as its crimson shadow body manifested and watched William over and over again.

  William soon fell into the abyss where he fought, escaped, or saw his former enemies like a quivering child, perpetuating the close and always revolving cycle of memories forgotten, wiped, or cleaned.

  ***

  On a strange morning, William woke up with yet another enemy—light rather than wicked people, shadows, and thoughts. The morning sunshine escaped from the curtains that didn't move on their own.

  Mi-Yung was already there, standing in his room and by the window, letting the light come as a wake-up call instead of her own agenda. Not that she would drag him out today. That would be foolish, yet William didn't know it and tried to move. He moaned right away in pain and realization that he was back.

  Wincing, crawling, and trying to escape it like a Vampir, he wasn't one, so he looked for the escape with the pillow that he slapped over his head. Then he peeked at Mi-Yung, who was watching him as if he were an idiot.

  "Are you still sleeping, or will another day pass like the other three?" Mi-Yung asked, crouching beside his bed.

  William sighed and supposed there was a point in waking up. "Hm... Wait. Three days?!" He shot up and almost shouted.

  "Yes, three days have passed since your bravery in that chamber. I don't question it. You were tired, and Old Dream had overdone his ways, I think."

  William looked at his arms. They were still there, alive, in one piece. His Emblem was unmistakable, looking calm, and his skin was back in good health. Even the surroundings were the same, without cuts, blood, missing stuff, or veins visibly exploding in scars.

  "How are you feeling?"

  "Like I dreamed my past and woke up."

  "Really? I don't like dreaming. It means I am wasting time going over things that can't be fixed or changed anymore. Every other day, a small nap is fine for me. You slept as if you hadn't done so for weeks."

  William hummed and kept looking at his arm. "I don't know what I dreamed about."

  "A lot of people don't. It's a mind thing. Sometimes, it is even a good thing."

  "Or spirit? You were saying as if it is something weird."

  "I did? When?" Mi-Yung asked, perking her brows and smiling. She probably said it so many times that she didn't know when or why. Spirituality was a very common topic among the Walkers. People call it the soul, but what is the soul if not just a person's personal feelings, emotions, and ego? Everyone had it.

  Spirit might be different, however. Mi-Yung stretched and was much calmer than she had been three days ago, when she was trying to aid William back to health. "Not much changed for days after those tests, and I also didn't want to bother you. I got hold of another work, so..."

  "I am fine."

  "Nope. You aren't. You weren't. Ellie and Celeste were worried and found me. They asked about you."

  "Is that so?" William said absentmindedly and played with his Emblem, poking it and polishing it with his bedsheet.

  "Three days is a lot. Ellie was worried sick. Visit her or find her when you can go up or out."

  "I am fine!" William shouted, pushing the sheets to the floor, and got up in a heartbeat. He wasn't naked, though his attire was different. He looked at himself, then at Mi-Yung.

  "Your previous things got torn to pieces, so I got you plenty of decent sets. At least your watch survived, so that's fine, I guess. It was a good idea to take it off beforehand."

  William silently nodded and swore he hadn't done that before. For now, he looked for his shoes and hoped they survived, because some things clearly didn't.