Chapter 155: The Endless Dream Cycle
As the Lord of Nightmares had promised, this cycle was subtly different from the last.
Abyss was still the one wielding the alchemical device, burning the rival gang members, but their movements as they burned, the order in which the houses caught fire, even scorch marks on previously untouched buildings, were all different.
But Rebecca’s expression remained the same, her eyes filled with the same pain and regret. Abyss couldn’t comfort her, couldn’t even touch her, forced to watch her suffer in silence.
Then came Flora’s memory. He relived the experience of leading the Paladins to execute her, the order of their faces different, some replaced by unfamiliar ones. His sharp memory registered these changes. The Lord of Nightmares was exploiting this, subtly altering the dream with each cycle, keeping Abyss engaged, slowly breaking his spirit.
He noticed a book in the trash can—the copy of The Nine Gods Bless This World he had discarded earlier.
Leona’s memory followed. Abyss’s position in the crowd was different, his hurtful words slightly altered, but her reaction was the same, her gaze filled with the same sadness that pierced his heart.
He longed to comfort them, to hold them, to stroke their hair, but he couldn’t.
The dream cycle continued, each iteration subtly different, the changes accumulating, the atmosphere growing increasingly oppressive, the scenarios more disturbing. Abyss still had no control, his actions dictated by the dream.
He had never imagined that the Lord of Nightmares could fully possess a human follower. It seemed impossible. What trick had he used to bypass the local deities’ surveillance? Why had the Nine Gods allowed this Outer God to invade their world? Weren’t they concerned about the balance of power?
But he couldn’t ask the Lord of Nightmares directly. There was no communication between them. The Outer God would occasionally taunt him, but he wouldn’t acknowledge Abyss’s thoughts, refusing to engage in a conversation.
This world-destroying deity clearly understood the human psyche. He knew how to manipulate emotions, how to amplify their anxieties, how to break their spirits. Once he identified a weakness, he exploited it mercilessly. This was likely the source of his confidence. He couldn’t imagine how a mere mortal could defeat him. Abyss had surprised him, but he had ultimately found his weakness. Abyss didn’t fear for his own safety or his possessions, but he couldn’t bear to see his followers suffer.
Abyss had angered this proud god, and he was now paying the price. The Lord of Nightmares, using his divine authority, had trapped Abyss in an endless cycle of torment, turning him into a puppet, his actions dictated by the dream.
The cycle continued, his followers’ deepest traumas replaying before his eyes, and he could do nothing to stop it.
The hundredth cycle…
The streets of Lavoisier City were already charred, the smell of burning filling the air before he even ignited the alchemical device. The rival gang members, emerging from the burning buildings, were covered in soot.
The floor of Flora’s room was littered with books and papers. The carpet was torn and shredded from where she had thrashed in agony after being poisoned.
The hall where Leona’s knighting ceremony had taken place was covered in spit, the stench of the nobles’ disgust filling the air. The gilding on the Emperor’s sword was chipped and faded, two of its jewels missing.
“How are you enjoying this, Abyss? This is your punishment for defying me. This is the hundredth cycle, isn’t it? Are you tired of it yet? Well, let me tell you, this is just the beginning. You’re trapped in these three dreams forever. I wonder if you can still call upon your local deities or that useless Lord of Submergence for help? Oh, I guess not,” the Lord of Nightmares’ voice mocked, its androgynous tone now mixed with Kohler’s shrill laughter. “Enjoy your torment, you pathetic challenger! Hahahahaha!”
Abyss wanted to retort, but the Lord of Nightmares wouldn’t give him the chance. He wouldn’t tolerate any further defiance.
The endless cycle of torment was taking its toll, his mind weary from the constant guilt and sorrow. For the first time, he felt mentally exhausted. For an ordinary person, this would be normal, after a long day of studying magic or training in combat. But for Abyss, it was a sign, a warning that this endless torment could break him.
The thousandth cycle…
The streets of Lavoisier City were in ruins, the rival gang members no longer living beings, but charred corpses. Rebecca, her hair disheveled, her eyes red and swollen, dark circles beneath them, her despair palpable, her heartbroken gaze piercing his soul.
Flora’s room was a disaster, the carpet torn to shreds, the furniture broken. And he had stood there, leading the Paladins, executing her a thousand times, witnessing her fear and confusion a thousand times.
In Leona’s dream, the floor was covered in a thin layer of spit, the stench overwhelming. The Emperor’s sword was broken, its gilding and jewels gone. Leona’s silver hair was dull and lifeless, her eyes red and swollen, her face pale and drawn.
“Hahahahaha! Look at you, Abyss! So helpless, so pathetic! It’s delightful! I want to keep you by my side forever, as my personal jester! Hahaha!” the Lord of Nightmares mocked.
“Is that so? Am I truly… helpless?” Abyss wondered, his mind no longer affected by the Outer God’s taunts. A spark of defiance flickered within him.
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