In a gray-colored forest, the trees were dead, surrounded by fog that seemed endless. A boy in the late stages of adolescence walked—but was he really? No one knew, not even he himself. He did not know: was this reality or a nightmare? Was he truly human, or just a figment shaped by the forest?
He walked alone along this path in search of answers. He walked seeing neither the light of hope nor the darkness of despair; all that drove him was a memory.
A memory of his mother… He still remembered her beautiful black hair, the star-shaped hairpin that always reminded him of the star-studded sky, and her radiant smile that had always told him he would be fine. But wait, something was wrong… her image had vanished from his mind; he had simply forgotten.
He did not care much… why? Because whether he remembered or forgot, what difference did it make? He was trapped here. Awaiting the second phase of his day, which he had named the dream phase… in this bleak place where there was neither sleep, nor hunger, nor fatigue—only emotions and memories through dreams.
Ash sometimes dreamed of scenes from a beautiful world where happy families lived, unlike him, as if the forest reminded him of what he had lost. And sometimes of tragic wars, as if the forest reminded him that he had witnessed worse. This forest was no ordinary place; it was a cruel and terrifying entity… it seemed to have stolen all memories and history of the world, perhaps even of other realms.
The way dreams appeared was not fixed; sometimes they shifted rapidly from one scene to another, as if a mad human mind saw the pain of everyone through a single eye. Sometimes Ash saw a man kneeling amidst a bloody battle, his face covered in blood but he did not scream. Sometimes a woman looked at the sea with eyes devoid of sparkle, her hand severed. And sometimes a child laughed amid tongues of flame, a short laugh that abruptly died out.
He did not see these memories in full, only fragments… and he did not need to see them all to understand what the forest intended to convey, for it did not give him only their memories, but their emotions as well.
This place truly drove one to madness… but how could one go mad when they had lost the drive for it? What use would madness serve? In the end, his fate was to remain trapped.
For him, these images were not just dreams and memories, but multiple languages of madness, thrown into his mind as stones are thrown into still water.
On this day, while sitting amid the fog, the world began to shake and ripple. The scenes and shapes around him changed; he had moved to a new environment… a new story.
Today, the story told of a family in the countryside, consisting of a father, a mother, and a child. The father worked in the fields, planting corn, wheat, and various vegetables. The mother worked at home, sweeping and cleaning, tending to the child, and in the morning took eggs from the chicken coop to prepare breakfast. Meanwhile, the child went to school for the rest of the day, returning at midday. Afterwards, he played a little and helped his father or mother, then came dinner, and they all went to sleep. The routine continued: a week, two weeks, three weeks… a full month.
But Ash noticed something strange and thought: why did the child's eyes not resemble those of his parents? It was a crucial question… apparently, the dream did not wish to provide an answer.
On the bed appeared a drunk man and a woman; the man had the same eyes as the child. "The whore," Ash thought as he watched the mother's radiant smile.
The scene paused and repeated. This time Ash noticed the father's hand moving strangely while chopping wood—it was fast, precise, and thirsting for blood. The scene changed: the father was cutting the bodies of children and women into small slices. He hung a victim's head upside down… cut the body piece by piece… and began roasting it. Damn, what kind of cursed world was this? It painted calm and peace while hiding madness behind it.
At that moment, the world rippled again… and the environment changed. This time Ash observed from above a strange new place. In a world with three peculiar moons, all crescent-shaped, colored red, yellow, and orange… in the midst of destruction, Ash saw a man with black hair and golden eyes, his expression cold yet tinged with hidden anger… and despite their clarity, his eyes carried a trace of sorrow. Before him stood a figure resembling humans but distinguished by long horns, red eyes with white pupils.
The two began fighting, their battle swift; Ash could only watch as lights danced here and there. The human was surrounded by a white light, as if erasing the world around him with an eraser, a white sword in hand glowing, capable of dispelling all surrounding darkness. On the other side, the demon wielded a black spear stained with blood, surrounded by ominous red energy.
The two collided at a speed Ash could not comprehend; with each clash, sparks flew from the human's sword… but they did not dissipate; instead, they became light arrows that returned and attacked the demon, surrounding him from every angle.
And would the demon remain silent? Of course not. In response, he formed a shield from the blood that had spilled during the battle… the blood absorbed the light and turned it into cursed energy swirling around the spear. Ash watched, feeling the emotions of both fighters: the loneliness and anger of the human, the madness and chaos of the demon.
The battle remained evenly matched for a long time; neither side retreated, but suddenly the light overcame the blood, and the spear fell back. The demon did not notice that the area around him had turned completely white… as if erased from existence. Encased entirely in white, he tried to gather the blood again, intending a counterattack to escape this strange field. But his powers refused him completely, as if erased from existence. No, his powers did not vanish, but they slowed because time around him had slowed.
At that moment… the sword pierced the demon's heart, throat, and head, but did not yet kill him. As he attempted to resist, the human removed three cores… then the demon realized his time had ended, and the last hope for his life was gone. At that moment, a harsh, cold voice emerged from the human:
"Why are you attacking us?" said the human.
The demon did not respond immediately, but smiled cunningly and said: "For survival, of course… because our end has come, shall we accept it just sitting here?"
The demon paused briefly, coughed up some blood… then continued. "The fight between humans and demons… this is the law of the world, one cannot escape this truth. I am Soldiet, the King of Blood and Decay, father of all red demons… I cannot escape it. So surrender; no matter how many demons you kill… this war will not stop until one of the two races is annihilated. After that, perhaps we will have a chance to survive… I do not know, I hope so."
Soldiet sighed before continuing in a weak voice: "But to speak truthfully, you are denizens of the other world, you will not have long to live. So, hero… why should I not free you from this miserable life? I can give you a demonic contract, you and all your friends, I can guarantee your lives."
Before the demon could finish, all the cores were destroyed. Soldiet's body immediately turned to ash… leaving the man alone in the battlefield.
The man did not smile, but Ash felt the growing loneliness in his heart. Before his vision changed, he heard the man say: "Coward and weak, Soldiet… only 11 of you remain."
Thus the dream finally ended… leaving Ash showing different feelings than indifference for the first time in years. Ash muttered in a strange voice: "Soldiet, King of Blood… this is the first time I remember a character's name from a dream."
At that moment, Ash wondered… could this be the beginning of his salvation?