Chapter 510 – A Bad Dream?

“…”

“Where am I… I’m sure that I was…”

Roland clutched his head, struggling to piece together his scattered thoughts. His mind was a foggy mess, memories slipping through his fingers. The last thing he remembered was drinking tea that his wife had given him. Then he’d woken up here, lying on a wooden floor, in a strange, unfamiliar place. The room felt oddly surreal, like something from the magical institute where bookshelves floated mid-air.

As Roland took in his surroundings, a disorienting sense of familiarity washed over him. The architecture around him looked bizarre, a warped imitation of a place he knew well. The walls bent at unnatural angles, and furniture floated lazily around the room, as if gravity had taken a vacation. He took a tentative step, only to realize he was standing on the ceiling, and yet he didn’t fall.

“Is this… the Arden estate?”

He murmured with a confused tone filling his voice. It looked like his family’s estate, but everything felt distorted, as though the estate were trying to remember itself and failing. The tapestries were worn but still beautiful, their scenes shifting and changing subtly whenever he looked away.

Roland tried to ground himself, tracing his way down a corridor, which stretched and wobbled like a reflection on water. A faint, elusive memory stirred at the back of his mind – the mostly abandoned wing of the estate, his childhood sanctuary, and the library there that he used to attend. He moved as the world distorted around him but with each step, the scenery became more grounded. The memories started coming back and with them the mansion started to solidify more. Finally, he stood before a door he hadn’t seen in years, the one that he arrived into this world, the original Roland’s room.

After taking a deep breath, he reached out and turned the handle. The door swung open with an almost silent creak, revealing his childhood room just as he remembered it – or close enough. The bed was small, covered in a faded quilt he recognized as his maid’s handiwork. Most of the rest was empty space, no toys or paintings, just a bed with an addition that he did not expect to see. There was a figure on the bed, a child whose face he couldn’t truly see.

The child was probably around the same age Roland had been when he first arrived in this world – about five. The boy didn’t look at him, instead was staring out the window at a view hidden from Roland’s sight. Eventually, though, the child sensed someone else in the room and glanced over his shoulder. His features were coming into focus, though a haze still blurred Roland’s vision.

“You shouldn’t be here…”

The boy said, his voice small yet steady. Roland’s heart skipped a beat. He recognized that voice as it belonged to him when he was a child in this world. He tried to speak, to ask the child who he was, but his lips refused to part. Instead, he felt drawn forward, each step slow and heavy, like walking through mud. With every step, it became harder to move, but the boy continued speaking.

“You shouldn’t be here… if you stay, it will notice you.”

Roland froze mid-step – or perhaps he simply couldn’t move any farther. At the boy’s words, a deep rumble began to shake the entire estate. The window, once obscured by mist, started to clear, revealing something lurking beyond. Through the haze, he could finally make it out: an enormous, monstrous eyeball, eerily familiar, like something from a forgotten nightmare.

It seemingly floated in some kind of empty void, massive tentacles protruding from it with many smaller eyeballs everywhere. Each tentacle wove through the air like it was breathing, its smaller eyes blinking in erratic patterns as they were looking for something. Roland couldn’t place where he’d seen this creature before, nor why it filled him with such dread. The boy on the bed remained still, his gaze locked on Roland.

“You have to leave…”

The child said in a low, urgent whisper.

“If it sees you…#$^@”

Suddenly, the boy’s words turned into loud, distorted static, drowning out whatever he was trying to warn him about. The gigantic eyeball outside wasn’t looking directly at them, but its massive, writhing tentacles were creeping toward the estate, slowly coiling around it. The walls started to constrict around them, bending and warping as if responding to the approach of the creature outside. Roland’s pulse quickened as a claustrophobic feeling crept over him. It was as if the room itself was afraid, trying to protect itself.

The child sat still on the bed, staring at him through a haze, his face unclear. For a brief moment, it seemed as if he was smiling – a soft, soothing expression that puzzled Roland greatly. Then, suddenly, a radiant light erupted from the boy, flooding the entire estate in white. The monstrous entity outside let out a deafening roar, its tentacles recoiling as they were engulfed in the warm, pulsating glow. Roland could feel the light’s strange warmth wash over him, both fierce and comforting, as if it was warding off the darkness inching closer.

The searing light grew brighter, pulling Roland further from the strange room and the monstrous figure outside, until everything around him melted into a surreal blur. He felt himself slipping back, a gentle tug as if something was guiding him away. Then, the light receded, and when Roland opened his eyes, he found himself lying on his own couch, staring up at the familiar ceiling of his home. The lingering warmth from the dream filled him with confusion. His heart pounded as the memory of that enormous eye, a sinister presence filled his memories but soon the thoughts faded and he found his mind at peace.

“What was that… I’m sure, I’ve seen that eyeball before, everything felt so real…”

He mumbled to himself as he tried to recall the strange dream he’d just had. The enormous eyeball and the child’s words echoed faintly in his mind, leaving him unsettled. He sat up slowly, rubbing his temples as if to chase away the last wisps of the dream. The feeling of the boy’s presence and that protective light lingered, blending with the quiet of his home. He glanced around, half-expecting the walls to waver or the couch to sink into some other dimension, but everything remained solid.

“I’m not in an illusion at least.”

After activating his debugging skill and scanning his surroundings, he was certain he wasn’t trapped in any abyssal cult illusion. The dream felt too vivid, and he wondered if there was more to it than met the eye. It was simply too surreal to dismiss as an ordinary dream. This world was built on powerful magic, inhabited by strange entities and forces. His instincts told him it might be unwise to ignore the dream, but at the moment, he had other concerns demanding his attention.

“My level hasn’t gone up in a while, has it?”

Roland sighed as he looked at his status screen. His progress had stagnated, and seeing it laid out in such detail only reminded him of the mountain of work ahead. The eerie dream he’d just experienced left a faint echo in his mind, but practical matters pulled him back to reality. The fleeting memory of the child’s warning and the monstrous eyeball wouldn’t fade, though.