Realm Lord
Chapter 180: It Starts With a Dream

Chapter 180: It Starts With a Dream

The car had fallen into a heavy silence following the conversation about stories that both Arthur and Aziel would rather bury in the deepest recesses of their minds. The weight of unspoken trauma hung in the air like a suffocating blanket, pressing down on everyone’s shoulders.

Arthur leaned his tired body against the cool surface of the window, his forehead pressing against the glass as he sought some small comfort from its smoothness. His breath fogged the window in small patches as the car passed through a winding road that cut directly through the middle of breathtaking grass plains.

The landscape stretched endlessly in all directions, a sea of emerald green that rolled and swayed like ocean waves in the gentle evening breeze. Wildflowers dotted the terrain in bursts of color – brilliant yellows, deep purples, and delicate whites that seemed to glow in the fading light.

’For a district in such shambles, it sure is beautiful,’ Arthur thought as he let his gaze drift across the horizon, following the gentle curves of distant hills that seemed to blend seamlessly into the darkening sky.

The sun hung low on the horizon now, a massive orange orb that painted the entire district in shades of gold and amber. Long shadows stretched across the plains, creating a patchwork of light and darkness that seemed to shift and change with every passing moment.

Suddenly, the steady hum of the engine began to change pitch as the car started to slow. Arthur felt the deceleration in his stomach as Cara guided the vehicle into a gradual stop, pulling it slightly off the main road and onto a patch of relatively flat ground surrounded by the endless expanse of grass.

The silence that followed was profound, broken only by the soft whisper of wind through the grass and the distant call of some night bird.

"Alright, we’re camping here for tonight," Cara announced, her voice cutting through the stillness with authority. She stretched her arms above her head, working out the kinks from hours of driving. "It’s way out in the open, so it should be relatively safe. We’ll take turns keeping watch throughout the night – each person will keep watch for two hours. You’ll be posted outside on top of the vehicle."

She stood up from her seat with grace and walked to the back of the car, fixing her gaze on Myah. The look she gave the younger woman was pointed and unmistakable. She tilted her head upward slightly, a gesture that somehow managed to convey both command and expectation. "You’re first, Myah."

Myah’s entire body seemed to deflate at the announcement. Her shoulders sagged and she let out a long, theatrical sigh that spoke volumes about her current state of mind. The exhaustion was written clearly across her features.

"Do I have to?" she asked, her voice taking on a petulant quality. "I’m so tired!" The words came out as a whine, accompanied by a pout that would have been more appropriate on a child.

Cara’s response was a low chuckle, rich with amusement. "You slept in the car, you’re fine. Now get up there." Her tone brooked no argument, though there was a hint of warmth beneath the authority.

Myah groaned heavily, the sound seeming to come from somewhere deep in her chest. "Fineeee," she said, dragging out the word like it was physically painful to utter. She began extracting herself from her seat, moving with all the enthusiasm of someone being asked to perform manual labor.

Her movements were deliberately slow and dramatic, as if she were made of thick sludge rather than flesh and blood. She dragged her body from the seat with exaggerated effort, each motion accompanied by small sounds of complaint. Finally, she stomped toward the roof access, her feet hitting the floor with more force than necessary.

The sound of her footsteps gradually faded as she climbed up to the roof, followed by the soft thud of her settling into position above them.

Meanwhile, Cara had already taken Myah’s seat. She settled in with ease, adjusting her position until she found the optimal balance between comfort and readiness. Within moments, she had closed her eyes and appeared to be attempting to get some much-needed rest.

Her breathing quickly settled into the slow, steady rhythm of someone who had learned to fall asleep quickly and efficiently. It was a skill that Arthur recognized – the ability to grab rest whenever and wherever it was available.

Several minutes passed in relative quiet. Arthur and Aziel remained wide awake, both still too lost in their own thoughts and memories to even attempt sleep. The events played on repeat in their minds, an endless cycle of images and sensations that refused to be quieted.

Arthur found himself staring at the ceiling of the car, his mind racing despite his body’s exhaustion.

After what felt like an eternity, Cara opened one eye, her gaze focusing on them with precision. "Get some sleep," she said quietly, her voice carrying genuine concern. "You’ll need it."

Arthur and Aziel gave no indication that they had heard her. They continued their silent struggle with their own demons, too trapped in their own minds to respond to the outside world.

After a few more moments, Cara spoke again. Her voice was softer this time, carrying a note of understanding. "Don’t let yourself dwell on the horror of the past too much," she said, her words carefully chosen. "If you do, in our line of work, you’ll be stuck doing a whole lot of dwelling in your life."

Again, neither responded verbally, but something in Cara’s words seemed to penetrate Arthur’s consciousness. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, the sound carrying all the weight of his exhaustion and pain. Finally, he turned away from the window and closed his eyes, making a conscious decision to at least attempt to get some rest.

Aziel, perhaps influenced by Arthur’s example, followed suit. He shifted in his seat, finding a position that was marginally more comfortable, and closed his eyes as well.

It took considerable time for the exhaustion of the day to finally catch up with Arthur’s racing mind. His thoughts continued to churn, cycling through memories and worries and fears, but gradually the pull of sleep began to overcome his mental resistance. His breathing deepened, his muscles slowly relaxed, and bit by bit, he began to drift toward unconsciousness.

But it was in the sweet embrace of sleep that his mind was turned to frost, plunged into dreams of absolute darkness where all he felt was fear... and hatred, anger, confusion... darkness. The peaceful rest he had hoped for was nowhere to be found. Instead, he found himself trapped in a void that seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions.

The darkness was not merely the absence of light – it was a living thing, pressing against him from all sides with malevolent intent. He could feel it seeping into his pores, crawling under his skin, filling his lungs with each breath until he felt like he was drowning in shadow.

And soon, a voice began to play in his head, speaking words that were blurry and indistinct, like sounds heard underwater or through thick glass. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, surrounding him completely while remaining just beyond his ability to understand.

Arthur looked around frantically in the void, his eyes searching desperately for any source of the voice, any indication of what was happening to him. Panic rose in his chest like a tide, threatening to overwhelm him completely.

He attempted to scream, to confront this unknown entity that was speaking to him through his dreams. "Who are you! What do you want!" he tried to shout, but the words died in his throat before they could escape his mouth. No sound came forth, no matter how hard he tried to force the words out.

The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, more terrifying than any physical threat he had ever faced. He was completely alone in this place of darkness, unable to speak, unable to escape, unable to do anything but endure whatever was happening to him.

But before the dream could develop further, before he could gain any understanding of what was happening to him, he was harshly and intensely ripped out of sleep. The transition was violent and jarring, like being pulled from deep water and thrust into harsh sunlight.

Arthur woke up covered in a cold sweat, his clothing clinging to his skin uncomfortably. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, and he could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. He launched upward in his seat in a panic, his body moving before his mind had fully processed that he was awake.

The nightmare clung to him like spider webs, refusing to be shaken off even as consciousness returned. He could still feel the oppressive weight of that darkness, still hear the echo of that incomprehensible voice ringing in his ears.

After several long moments of sitting there, gasping and shaking, he began to catch his breath and gather his bearings. The familiar interior of the car slowly came into focus around him, grounding him in reality and helping to dispel the lingering terror of the dream.

He realized that he was awake, that it had just been a dream, and that Cara was standing in front of him. She had positioned herself where she could watch him closely, her expression unreadable in the dim light filtering through the car’s windows.

He looked up at her, and she had an odd look on her face as she stared at him – a mixture of concern and something else he couldn’t quite identify.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice quiet but carrying a note of genuine concern.

Arthur wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand, the gesture automatic and slightly shaky. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and regain some composure. "Umm... y-yeah, yeah, I’m fine," he managed to say, though his voice betrayed the lie in its tremor.

Cara gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him for a second, her eyes narrowing slightly as she continued to study his face. But she didn’t bother pushing the subject further, perhaps recognizing that he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever had just happened to him.

Instead, she settled back into her chair, her movements fluid and controlled. "It’s your turn for watch," she said simply, her tone returning to its usual professional neutrality.

Arthur blinked, still trying to shake off the last vestiges of the nightmare. "W-what? Oh right... yeah, I’m on it."

The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders like a familiar cloak, pushing the terror of the dream into the background where it could be dealt with later. For now, he had a job to do, and that was something he could focus on – something real and tangible that could help anchor him in the present moment.