[Dream World: Vast Horizons – Tower]
In the sprawling expanse of the Dream World, where horizons bled into infinite dreamscapes of neon plains and fractured skies, stood the largest crystalline structure known to any Dremapol—a towering monolith that pierced the auroras like a frozen spear. Its surface shimmered with iridescent veins, pulsing with an ancient energy that hummed through the air, casting prismatic reflections across the surrounding landscapes. The tower loomed solitary, a sentinel of forgotten eras, its base rooted in crystalline roots that sprawled like veins into the ground, drawing power from the Inter-Dream Gate's core. Winds whispered secrets around its spire, carrying echoes of distant battles and dreamers' sighs, the structure unyielding against the shifting realities.
Deep inside, far from the vibrant chaos of the Nexus, lay a room shrouded in impenetrable darkness—a void within a void, nearly empty, the air thick and stagnant, as if time itself had forgotten to flow. Shadows clung to every corner, devouring light, the walls absorbing sound until only silence reigned. But upon closer observation, in the heart of this abyss, sat a man—the Gate Crasher. His figure was a mere silhouette, the darkness conspiring to conceal every detail: the curve of his shoulders, the glint of his eyes, the subtle rise and fall of his breath. He was motionless, a statue carved from oblivion, his presence a weight that pressed against the room's emptiness, an enigma wrapped in mystery.
Suddenly, the heavy door creaked open with a slow, agonizing groan, the sound slicing through the silence like a blade. A sliver of light pierced the gloom, spilling across the crystalline floor in a golden cascade, enveloping the dark room inch by inch. It revealed the intruder: a man with white hair, slightly longer and swept back in smoother, more controlled spikes, short bangs framing his sharp, angular face—giving him a cool, mature aura that commanded respect. He wore a pristine white coat traced with silver veins that glimmered like frozen rivers, its high collar cutting a sharp line against the invading light. Frost-like patterns etched along the sleeves pulsed faintly with a chill energy, mirroring his composed demeanor, tendrils of cold mist trailing from the fabric. Beneath lay a dark, fitted undershirt, secured by a metallic belt that caught the light like bolts of frozen lightning, glinting with every movement. His boots struck the ground with a crisp, steady rhythm—thud, thud, thud—each step echoing with the weight of unyielding command, the air around him cooling as if winter itself had forged its own general. The entire uniform radiated cold authority, a blend of elegance and quiet menace, his presence chilling the room further.
"May I come in, Gate Crasher?" he asked, his voice smooth yet edged with ice, the words hanging in the air like frost.
The Gate Crasher nodded slightly, his silhouette shifting imperceptibly in the darkness, his voice emerging mysterious and ethereal, yet underpinned with firmness that brooked no nonsense. "Drenor Rei… it's you. So you may not."
Drenor Rei stepped inside regardless, the door creaking wider as light flooded in, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the beam. "Well, that's a shame… 'cause I'm inside anyway," he replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, his white hair catching the glow, silver veins on his coat pulsing brighter.
"Hmmmmm," the Gate Crasher released a deep, resonant sigh, the sound rumbling through the shadows like distant thunder, his form still veiled. "What business do you have with me… Drenor Rei?" His ethereal tone carried a hint of weariness, the darkness seeming to thicken around him.
Drenor Rei raised a brow, his cool eyes narrowing under the short bangs, frost patterns on his sleeves flickering. "What business?" he echoed, his voice rising with a sudden spike of anger, the chill in the room intensifying as mist coiled from his coat. "What business?" He repeated the words, louder, the echo bouncing off the unseen walls, his metallic belt glinting as he leaned forward.
"My business… is that you—the Dream World's absolutely strongest Dremapol—are doing what even during a time like this? Absolutely nothing but sitting down here 24/7, rotting in this pit of shadows!" Rei's voice thundered now, anger boiling over, his white hair whipping slightly in an unfelt breeze. "Even now… the blood of Dremapols is being shed by foreigners—spilled across the Nexus like rivers of crimson! And what have you done about it? …Nothing!" His boots stomped forward, the crisp rhythm turning aggressive, frost trailing in his wake, the light from the door casting long shadows that danced like accusations.
"Rei… you are mistaken," the Gate Crasher responded, his voice calm yet firm, the ethereal quality weaving through the darkness, undisturbed by the outburst. "Me doing nothing… is something. I am simply toughening up the Dremapols for rough times exactly like this—forging them in the fires of adversity. I have the power to instantly stop them right now, if I wanted to… sure… erase those intruders with a mere thought. But then how would the young Dremapols learn, grow, if all the time the Drenors and even the ...Almighty Gate Crasher himself were to step into such battles, shielding them from the storm? This is the best option—the crucible that tempers steel. I would also advise the rest of the Drenors to restrain from fighting too… But I leave things like that to the Nertis; they are the council after all, the weavers of fate."
Rei's voice twisted into a mixture of sickness, disgust, and disdain, his face contorting as he face-palmed himself, the slap echoing sharply. "So what… You expect us to standby and let blood flow like streams, all in the name of 'learning'?" His words dripped with venom, frost mist exploding from his coat in angry bursts. "You can't… fucking… teach dead bodies! Why don't you understand that? Goddamn it, even him—even… Taro is fighting!" His voice cracked on the name, the chill peaking, the room's temperature plummeting as ice crystals formed on the floor.
The Gate Crasher barely paid mind to Rei's tirade, his silhouette unmoving in the abyss… except for the last words. As "Taro" hung in the air, a pause stretched, the darkness seeming to listen. After a long, tense beat, he smiled—then chuckled, a low, ethereal sound that slithered through the shadows, growing into a genuine, amused laugh. "So… he's fighting too,huh… That's lovely… This is even a best-case scenario for me—and all of us, even… hehe. He should have even started sooner." His voice carried a twisted satisfaction, the chuckle echoing faintly, as if the darkness itself approved.
Rei frowned deeply, his cool eyes flashing with frustration, the frost patterns on his sleeves dimming as disappointment washed over him. He couldn't feel the point in talking anymore—the words falling into the void. Turning on his heel, his boots thudding crisply, he headed for the door, the light beckoning like an escape. But before closing it with a heavy thud, he paused, glancing back into the shadows, his voice dropping low and laced with accusation. "He's your own… You're sick." The words lingered, cold and final, before he shut the door, the creak reversing as darkness swallowed the room once more, leaving the Gate Crasher alone in his enigmatic silence.
other half of chapter 40:
[Dream World: Tomaka Squad]
Taro and Mexus stood tall, their Reibones spiraling with energy that threatened to spiral out of control.
Mexus glanced at Taro. The rage Taro felt towards the Rooftop Watcher was deeply personal, but the fury burning within Mexus was a formidable force in its own right. With every passing second, it grew.
He turned back to their enemies, his brows furrowed. "Taro, you take the middle guy. I'll handle the other two. How does that sound?"
Taro didn't respond. The sound of Nodoka's sobs fed the overwhelming anger that choked his words. All he could release was a raw, guttural battle cry. "ARRRGGHHHH!"
"Good," Mexus said, a grim smile touching his lips. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear." After a tense three-second pause, he nodded.
BOOM!
Taro shot forward, his speed shattering the sound barrier. The force of his step cratered the ground beneath him. Mexus was a split-second behind, targeting the Void and Rune masks with equal ferocity.
The intruders were on alert. The Void Masked Figure raised its fingers, attempting to summon its black hole again. But Mexus didn't hesitate. With a swift swoosh, his blade cut the creature open, spilling its blood. The Rune Masked Figure tried to create distance while turning to cast. "Scriptomancy: Rune of—"
Mexus was already upon him, clamping a hand over his mouth. He grabbed both the Rune and Void masks and, with immense strength, hurled them far beyond the squad grounds. He had no intention of interfering with Taro's fight.
The two masked figures twisted in mid-air, landing with practiced backflips to absorb the impact.
"Tch.He's a crafty one, Void," the Rune mask said, his voice laced with annoyance. "A Drenor. One of the strongest: Drenor Mexus."
The Void Masked Figure only responded with an intense, silent nod.
The Rune mask stood and entered a combat stance, brandishing his special pen. "As much as I hate this, we need our perfect synergy."
The Void mask let out a slow, resigned sigh. "Hmph... I truly despise working with you like this."
"Hehe... Yeah, well," the Rune mask chuckled darkly, "doesn't that just make the two of us?"
"Are you two done with your shitty chit-chat?" Mexus's voice was sharp and firm, his face a mask of lethal intimidation. "Because no amount of plotting is going to save you bastards."
"Hmmm... Well, that's what you think," the Rune mask retorted, his tone confident and mocking.
"Alright, then." Mexus surged forward, his speed eclipsing his previous burst. "Here... comes death."
The Rune Masked Figure dropped into a crouch, preparing a rune. "Void, now!"
The Void Masked Figure painfully twisted two fingers, snapping them back with a sickening crack. "The Annulment Cascade!"
A dark pulse beam erupted, twisting the air and reality around it. Mexus's eyes narrowed as he observed the beam rise from the ground. This wasn't mere destruction; it was erasure. Where it touched, matter vanished with a deafening, high-frequency shriek.
"What the—?" Mexus raised a brow. He slammed his Reibone into the ground to his right, using the impact to violently redirect his momentum and narrowly dodge the beam.
He landed on his feet, sliding backward as he dissipated the force. "The ground it touched... it didn't just get destroyed, it was erased," he muttered, his grip on his Reibone tightening. "I can't let that thing touch me."
The Void Masked Figure twisted its hand again. "The Annulment Cascade!" The deafening sound returned instantly.
Mexus tilted his head, ducking as a portion of his kasa was erased from existence. He leaped out of the way. "That was faster than light. Massively faster."
The Rune Masked Figure laughed, still etching his rune. "Hahaha! This is funny! Weren't you talking so big a second ago? Huh? Where's that aura now? Or did you not want to avenge that kid... what was his name... Brian?" He chuckled, the sound dripping with malice. "From the looks of it, he's not going to survive. And even if he does, he's useless now—his core is shattered. A fate far, far worse than death. And here's his Captain, about to get wasted as well. I wonder if you'll get your core destroyed, too? Well, erased, in this case... haha!"
In the middle of his laugh, a yellow blast struck—instantaneous, without travel time. The Rune Masked Figure stopped laughing as the energy grazed his face, drawing blood. He clutched the wound. "Ngh!"
"Don't you ever..." Mexus's eyes blazed with a yellow aura, "mock my squad."
The Void mask reacted instantly. Boom! It snapped its hands, and the erasure beam shot out. But Mexus wasn't caught off guard. He ducked and weaved, moving left and right, throwing himself into flips and sidesteps as the beam pursued him relentlessly.
On the surface, his evasion was flawless. In reality, the situation was dire. The Rune Masked Figure's plan was working; Mexus was too occupied dodging to interrupt whatever powerful rune he was preparing.
This isn't working, Mexus thought, dodging another beam. I've been evading non-stop with no progress. I need to move forward. The attack is too quick; I only have time to dodge, not advance.
On his next flip, he intentionally took a single, minimal step closer. That's okay. I'll just have to use the most minimal movements possible.
He began to refine his evasion. With every sidestep, he gained an inch. With every weave, his footing was always slightly forward. No motion was wasted. The Void Masked Figure noticed him closing the distance. "Huh?!" it panicked.
In a desperate attempt, it swung its fingers wildly, throwing the beam off rhythm. That was the opening Mexus needed. In a blur of motion, he used his supreme speed to close the gap completely.
The Void Masked Figure's eyes widened in disbelief. "Ugh, he's right here!"
As Mexus readied his strike, the Rune Masked Figure finished his rune. A complex ᛉ (Algiz - protection) glowed from his pen. "Take this! Protection! New Law: Within a 100-meter radius, an invisible Spatial Wall will not allow you or your allies to pass! Only me and Void!"
The rune flared. Just as Mexus's blade was about to pierce the Void mask—CLANG!—it was stopped dead by an unseen, impenetrable barrier.
"What the—?" Mexus grunted in confusion.
"Finally," the Void mask sneered, landing a kick that sent Mexus skidding backward. "Now I can unleash my power without worry."
"Hehe... You see? Just trust me," the Rune mask said. "Let's work together, as always."
Mexus steadied himself, his feet touching down. This... this isn't good. An ability to make laws? I'm going to need some hel—
Before he could finish the thought, a blur of motion appeared beside him. It was Tokkun.
Tokkun's eerie but observant eyes scanned the intruders before settling on Mexus. "Hmph... You seem to be struggling, Mexus. By any chance, do you need some help?"
Mexus's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed as he let out a short chuckle. "So, you're here. I have a feeling you deliberately took your time, you bastard. But whatever. Yeah, I might need some help... but I don't think I want it from you."
"Well," Tokkun replied, his voice as creepy and strange as ever, "you'll just have to cope with it, then."
The Rune and Void Masked Figures stared, their brows raised in unison at this sudden, unsettling development. Could Tokkun help Mexus flip the tables?
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Details: Sypnosis