At three in the morning, the alarms of the Bureau blared suddenly. The piercing sirens shook the corridor lights.
Ethan jolted awake from his bed, hastily throwing on his coat and rushing to the assembly point. Other agents were already there, the atmosphere so tense it was almost suffocating. The Director stood at the front, scanning the group with eyes as sharp as blades.
"Target: Dreamborne, ID X-17," the Director's voice was cold and steady. "He has breached the Dream Containment and is active in the outskirts. Mission: capture. If incapacitation is impossible—eliminate."
The air froze. Ethan's chest tightened.
Dreamborne—those lost souls or fragmented consciousnesses that escaped the dream realm. They carried the power of nightmares yet retained fragments of human memory, often unable to distinguish reality from illusion, extremely dangerous.
Aiden sauntered over to Ethan, teasing, "Congratulations, rookie. Your first real field operation. Just don't die at the hands of a Dreamborne. If you do, I'm stuck writing the report—it'll be a nightmare."
Ethan shot him a glare but said nothing. He could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest, but underneath it all was an inexplicable surge of adrenaline.
—Finally, not archives or illusions, but a real mission.
The squad vehicle tore through the streets under the cover of darkness. Neon lights flashed outside; distant skyscrapers loomed like sleeping giants. Inside, only the deep breathing of the agents and the clicks of weapons being chambered broke the silence.
"Target location: abandoned amusement park," the radio relayed. "Abnormal energy fluctuations detected on site. Approach with caution."
The vehicle stopped. They disembarked swiftly. The amusement park gate was rusted and groaned as the wind blew. The broken carousel stood silently in the darkness; the horses' eyes were hollow voids.
A sickly sweet scent mingled with rust and decay.
"Memorable, huh," Aiden muttered with a low laugh. "Used to be a dating hotspot, now a nightmare nest. Romantic, really romantic."
Ethan didn't respond. He gripped his psychic weapon tightly, ready to strike at any moment.
The team split to search. Ethan and Aiden moved toward the Ferris wheel; the fog thickened around them. Suddenly, a low, sorrowful crying echoed nearby, like a child lost in the dark.
"Did you hear that?" Ethan stiffened his ears.
"Yeah," Aiden's expression darkened. He lowered his voice. "Don't go near it. That sound… it's too pure."
In the next instant, the crying escalated into a piercing scream. The fog exploded as a figure lunged from the shadows!
A ragged man, his eyes pitch black, pupils glinting with inhuman light. His mouth stretched unnaturally into a scream as he charged.
"Dreamborne!" Ethan's chest tightened.
The man moved impossibly fast, twisted like a beast under the influence of nightmare power. Ethan instinctively pulled the trigger. The psych bullets sliced through the air, striking the man's shoulder—yet they dissipated like smoke.
"Useless!" Ethan shouted.
"Of course it's useless!" Aiden sneered, tossing a talisman that detonated with a bang, psychic waves knocking the man back several steps. "You have to target his heartscape, not the body!"
The man shrieked, suddenly multiplying into countless shadows, instantly surrounding them. Ethan was forced to retreat; the illusions gnawed at his eyes, blurring reality and falsehood.
Heart racing, breaths ragged, Ethan recalled the Director's cold voice during training: "If you cannot tell true from false, hold onto the one constant."
The constant… what is it?
Ethan focused. All the phantoms moved, except one shadow that remained anchored to the ground.
—That's the real one!
He raised his gun, aimed at the center of that shadow, and pulled the trigger.
Bang—!
The psych bullet struck true. The man let out a bloodcurdling scream, body convulsing violently; the illusions collapsed instantly, the dense fog evaporated.
He fell to his knees, momentarily lucid, whispering shakily:
"Don't… trust them… nightmares… and humans… have long…"
Before he could finish, his body shattered into fragments of light, vanishing completely.
Ethan froze, chest heaving. The fragmentary last words were like nails hammered into his mind.
Aiden came over, patting his shoulder, his usual sardonic grin tempered with weight. "Remember, whatever a Dreamborne says before death is probably nonsense. Believe it too seriously, and you'll go mad faster than they did."
Ethan didn't respond, only gripping his weapon tighter.
He knew he had heard it—another thread connecting nightmares and humanity.
And now, he could no longer pretend nothing had happened.