Chapter 535 – Pressure
He didn’t rember where to.
Didn’t matter.
Because the pressure never stopped.
No matter how high he scored.
No matter how many ranks he earned.
No matter how many boardrooms he conquered or how many demonesses whispered his na with lust or fear.
He kept walking.
But even in the dream, a whisper echoed...far off, soft as velvet, brushing the edge of the illusion.
"Lux..."
It wasn’t the teacher.
Or the wrath demon.
Or Sira.
It was Lullaby’s voice.
His breath caught.
The dream flickered again, like soone shaking a snowglobe filled with all his worst mories. His younger self stood there in the perfect black and silver uniform. Shoes polished. Spine straight. Eyes tired in a way a child’s eyes shouldn’t be.
"I don’t want to do this again," Lux muttered.
His fists tightened. His jaw clenched. The hallway stretched out like a throat waiting to swallow him whole.
And then sothing soft brushed his cheek.
A fingertip. Cool. Gentle. Familiar.
He turned.
Lullaby stood there in her oversized sweater, sleeves covering her hands, hair ssy like she’d rolled out of a blanket and wandered straight into his subconscious. Her expression was half sleepy, half sad. Her little demon-bunny aura made the dream feel warr instantly, as if the cold stone hallway realized soone nice had arrived and panicked.
"Lux," she said.
His chest loosened at the sound of her voice. Even here, even in this nightmare playground of mories, she sounded like ho. Or like a pillow. Or like the feeling of sitting under soft blankets after a horrible day.
"Lullaby," he exhaled, confused, cautious. "You... you’re here."
She nodded, smiling softly as she walked toward him. Her slippers made no sound on the floor, as if the dream itself didn’t dare challenge Sloth’s daughter.
"Yeah," she said simply. "I ca because you called."
"I didn’t call," Lux said automatically.
"You did," she replied. "Not with words. With feelings." She reached out and fixed the collar of his school uniform. "You’re hurting."
Lux’s shoulders stiffened.
He looked around. The hallway flickered to the classroom. Then to the arena. Then back again. All the worst rooms of his life, swirling like a cursed carousel.
"This is a dream," he muttered quietly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Of course you’re here. You’re subconscious comfort magic or sothing."
Lullaby puffed her cheeks slightly. "I’m not your subconscious anything. I crawled in because you look like you’re being boiled alive in your own brain soup."
Lux blinked. "...That’s one way to put it."
She nodded proudly. "I’m smart."
He breathed out a shaky laugh. The first real laugh he’d made in this dream.
Then the smile fell off his face as quick as it ca.
He looked down at himself. At the uniform. At the child body the dream forced him into. At the mories layered over him like armor made of guilt.
"Lullaby," he said quietly. "This place... it’s the dream I hate."
"I know," she whispered back. "You always hate it."
Her voice was gentle but firm. Like she already knew the script of this recurring nightmare and ca ready to tear it apart with plush weaponry.
He swallowed.
"I’m tortured here," Lux said. His voice wasn’t loud. It wasn’t strong. It was the voice he only had deep inside, buried under roles and power and pretty lies. "It’s always the sa. The teacher. The scores. The fights. The pressure. The... expectations."
Lullaby didn’t answer imdiately.
Instead she reached out and took his small dream-hand into her sleeve-covered ones, rubbing her thumb lightly over his knuckles.
"You are tortured," she said softly. "Because of perfection."
Lux’s expression twisted. Not in anger. In truth.
He wanted to deny it. To scoff. To roll his eyes and say sothing smart.
He couldn’t.
Because she was right.
He let out a long, shaky breath.
"I need to be perfect," he said. "Too much expectation. Too much burden. If I’m not perfect, then..." He stopped. His throat tightened. "Then I’m not ready. And I need to be ready for everything."
She stared at him for a mont. Not judging. Just... understanding.
"I know," she said. "You’re the heir. The CFO. The royal. Son of two sins. Everybody wants sothing from you even before you were born."
Lux turned his head away.
"But sotis you push too hard," she continued. "That’s why this dream keeps happening. You only see this when you’re scared."
"Scared?" Lux scoffed. "I’m not scared."
Lullaby tilted her head. Her eyes glowed faintly with gentle magic. "Your uncle is targeting you now."
Lux froze.
Of course she knew. Lullaby always knew. She wasn’t just Sloth’s daughter. She was the emotional resonance of a realm. A creature whose magic read exhaustion and fear the way a doctor read pulse.
"You feel helpless," she continued. "And angry."
"Everyone would be angry," Lux muttered.
"That’s exactly what he wants," Lullaby whispered. "If you lose control, if you break yourself by trying too hard, he wins."
Lux swallowed.
His lips parted. "He knows I’m a perfectionist."
"Yes," she said. "And what destroys a perfectionist?"
Lux didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
Lullaby leaned forward, her forehead gently tapping his.
"Imperfection," she whispered.
The word shook him.
It echoed in the hallway. In the classroom. In the arena. All those illusions trembled like they suddenly realized they shouldn’t be here.
He closed his eyes.
"Lullaby," he whispered. "I don’t want to be like this."
"I know," she said.
"I don’t want this dream."
"I know."
"I don’t want to feel like that kid anymore."
She nodded. "But that kid is still you. He’s the you who was forced to hold too much too early. The you who was punished for breathing wrong. The you who never got to rest."
Lux’s chest felt tight. But not suffocating. More like...
More like letting sothing out.
"Can I stop this?" he asked softly.
Lullaby smiled. "Yes. But not by pushing harder. You stop it by resting. Letting go. Letting soone help."
He snorted. "Yeah. . Ask for help."
"You do ask," she said. "Just not with words."
He blinked.
"Like now," she explained. "You didn’t call . But your heart did."
"That’s not..."
She poked his forehead.
"You cling when you sleep," she said. "Naomi told . Rava knows. Mira pretends she doesn’t, but she knows. Even Sira knows. You cling because your body begs for reassurance that nobody will leave."
He went still.
Her voice softened.
"You cling," she whispered, "because the boy in this dream was left alone with everything."
Lux looked away. His throat burned.
"...Shut up," he muttered.
Lullaby smiled again, small and warm. "It’s okay to be tired, Lux."
He breathed out slowly. The hallway blurred. The walls softened. The oppressive weight lightened.
Lullaby lifted her sleeve-covered hands and gently cupped his face.
Her palms were cool. Soft. Safe.
"You do everything for them," she said. "For us. For Hell. For your future. For your past. For your pride. For your fear." Her voice trembled but stayed calm. "But who does everything for you?"
Lux’s eyes flickered.
Naomi’s heartbeat.
Rava’s embrace.
Sira’s fierce protectiveness.
Mira’s quiet obsession.
Lullaby’s unconditional softness.
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
She moved even closer.
The dream darkened around them, turning into a warm midnight instead of endless hallways.
She brushed his hair back gently. "Sleep, Lux."
His breath hitched.
"You need it," she whispered, stroking the back of his head exactly how he liked, slow and gentle. "Not the kind you get by collapsing. Real sleep. Safe sleep."
"I..." His voice cracked. "I don’t know how."
"I’ll teach you," she said softly.
Then she guided his head down, pulling him into her lap. The uniform, the child body, the school setting...none of it mattered. He lted into her touch like gravity no longer worked.
She ran her fingers through his hair, humming sothing soft and old and sloth-born.
His eyes fluttered.
The dream world softened.
"Lullaby..." he whispered.
"Yes?"
"I’m... really tired."
"I know," she said, stroking him slowly. "So sleep. It’s okay."
His breaths slowed.
His fists unclenched.
His whole body relaxed for the first ti in days.
He fell asleep in her hands.
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