Ethan hadn't slept a wink all night.
The air in the stone chamber was harshly cold. He leaned against the rough wall, staring blankly into the darkness. Over and over in his mind appeared that silhouette—Xirei, the figure so painfully familiar. Yet the words he spoke were like a thorn driven into Ethan's chest:
"The nightmare is not the enemy. We are."
The sentence refused to leave his ears. Ethan even began to doubt whether it had been his own hallucination.
At dawn, Karl handed him a cup of hot water, breaking the silence."You weren't yourself last night. Tell me—what you saw… was it really Xirei, or just a lingering illusion from the nightmare?"
Ethan gripped the cup, knuckles white. He shook his head slowly."I can't be sure. But he didn't feel like a mere illusion… that gaze, that tone—it was too real. Like… he's still alive."
Karl fell silent for a moment, lowering his voice."Do you know what that could mean? If Xirei still has awareness, he might have become some kind of… host."
Ethan's chest jolted. He murmured,"No… he clearly—he was already…"
Memories flashed: blood spattered against the stone walls, Xirei torn apart by the nightmare's fangs. That image was seared into his mind, unmistakable. And yet now, everything seemed upended.
Karl studied him carefully."Ethan, you need to be clear. Nightmares are masters at exploiting the human heart. It may be using your attachment to Xirei to manipulate you. Your bond is deep—that's exactly its weakness."
"Weakness?" Ethan let out a bitter laugh, his voice hoarse."So what? What if he really still has awareness? You want me to pretend he doesn't exist?"
Karl said nothing, only sighed deeply.
—
In the afternoon, the bureau held its routine briefing. Ethan stood at the back, mind adrift. The open dossiers on the table meant nothing to him; he didn't read a single page.
The director's voice echoed through the hall:"Recent nightmare activity has intensified, especially along border regions. We must accelerate the clearance of hosts. No potential leaks can be tolerated."
At the word "clearance", Ethan's eyelids twitched violently.
—If Xirei truly had become a host, the bureau would act without question—erase him outright.
His fingers unconsciously clutched the hem of his clothes, while Xirei's voice replayed in his mind. It was not hollow murmuring, but a warning filled with clear intent:
"…Stop investigating."
A stabbing pain hit Ethan's chest. He shot up, staring at the director's cold expression, and suddenly realized a far more terrifying possibility: Xirei was not only alive… he knew the bureau's secrets.
—
Night fell.
Ethan sat alone in his dormitory. Outside, the wind stirred dust across the windowpane, rattling the glass. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down.
Then, a faint sound whispered at his ear.
Not the wind. Not a hallucination.
The voice was low, as if transmitted through layers of dream:"Ethan… I am still here. Don't trust them."
Ethan jolted awake, pupils snapping wide.
He looked around. The dorm was empty. Yet the whisper persisted, burrowing into his consciousness.
"Xirei?!" he called softly, sweat beading on his forehead.
The only response was silence. But in that instant of clarity, he was almost certain—Xirei was truly still alive. At least, his consciousness endured somewhere.
Ethan slowly lifted his head, eyes hardening.
If Xirei was not purely an enemy, then nothing could continue by the bureau's rules.
He had to uncover the truth.
This time—illusion or reality—it didn't matter.