The streets of Phantom Dream Town were still a wasteland. Broken wooden beams lay scattered across the ground, shattered window glass reflected faint cyan light under the night sky. The air was thick with the smell of burning, blood, and an indescribable decay, each breath feeling like inhaling gray, poisonous mist. The rift had temporarily stabilized, but its residual currents still stirred in the shadows, ready to devour anything that came too close.
Ethan and Silas stepped into the ruins of the church, the crushed stones beneath their feet snapping with every step, as if warning that danger could be triggered at any moment. The church bell tower was half-collapsed, its spire groaning mournfully in the night wind.
"The nightmare rifts leave shadows behind," Silas said, his voice as cold and sharp as shards of ice. "They could be clues… or traps."
Ethan crouched down, carefully kicking aside a piece of splintered wood, his gaze sweeping over the rubble and ashes near the altar. He forced himself to stay calm, yet muttered under his breath with a hint of self-deprecation, "So… we're basically the 'junk-picking squad,' huh?"
Silas shot him a cold glance. "Shut up. Focus."
Before Ethan could respond, something caught his eye—a strange mark on the wall behind the altar's remnants. The gray-white stone bore scorch-like traces, as if branded by flames. At its center, a twisted symbol emerged faintly: three intersecting curved lines forming an eye-like shape, seemingly watching their every move. Even as a mere shadow, it radiated suffocating discomfort, like icy fingers probing into one's chest.
Ethan instinctively took a step back, voice trembling: "…I'll bet this isn't part of the town's décor."
Silas crouched and reached out to touch the symbol. The rune flickered faintly, as if responding to their presence, and a faint whisper seemed to echo through the air.
"This is a summoning mark," he said quietly, his tone leaving no room for doubt, cold as steel. "It belongs to the Nightmare Sect."
"The Nightmare Sect? You mean… someone deliberately opened this rift?" Ethan's heart tightened. Memories of last night's nightmare surged into his mind—the blade of betrayal, the low whispers in the void, the black flower blooming in darkness. He instinctively gripped his "Dreamhunter," fingers whitening, yet could not suppress the question rising within:
Could that figure who betrayed him also be connected to these symbols?
Silas noticed his unease but did not press. He simply said coldly, "Document it. Hand it over to the Director. We must confirm who's behind this as soon as possible."
Ethan drew a deep breath and pulled out his recorder, capturing the symbol. On the screen, the eye-shaped mark glared with a menacing brilliance, as if it could open at any moment, piercing the boundaries between reality and soul.
He forced a bitter smile. "I really hope I don't see this again… If it shows up in my dreams, I'm going to need a therapist."
Yet deep down, he knew this was only the surface. The symbol would not vanish so easily. It was like a parasite, embedded in the ruins of Phantom Dream Town, even infiltrating the hearts of people. Every gust of wind, every passing shadow seemed to make the eye twitch and stir.
Ethan lifted his gaze, scanning the broken window frames and scattered rubble. The sliver of moonlight illuminated the gray shadow of the symbol, like an invisible chain, tugging at his thoughts.
"This town… is even more dangerous than I imagined," he murmured, tightening his grip on the "Dreamhunter," knuckles whitening.
Silas did not respond, turning instead to continue inspecting the surroundings. The shadows seemed to whisper, carrying both threat and temptation—reminding them that the conspiracy behind this was far deeper than they could see.
Ethan felt the ink mark on his chest pulse faintly, as if responding to the void's call. That eye-shaped symbol was not just a mark—it was a doorway into a deeper nightmare. He knew he had just opened another perilous journey, and the shadow of betrayal might be lurking within, ready to strike again at any moment.
Night deepened, and the ruins of Phantom Dream Town writhed in the darkness, as if waiting to embrace its prey. Ethan's breathing grew heavier. His eyes locked on the symbol, silently vowing: no matter how deeply it hid, no matter how cruel the truth, he would uncover the secrets behind it—even if it meant confronting the unspeakable nightmare once more.