On a pitch-black street, a young man ran desperately. His breathing had grown heavy, his stamina long since exhausted, but he didn't dare slow down.
Because right behind him, a monstrous creature was in pursuit.
The beast stood about two ters tall, with four arms and four legs, its entire body covered in dark brown fur. A white bone mask obscured its face.
It moved swiftly and possessed imnse strength. With every step it took, searing lava oozed from beneath its feet. There was no way a low-sequence Beyonder could stand against it.
The young man had encountered such a creature before, in a small mountain town in Feysac. Back then, it had slaughtered the entire town. If not for the tily arrival of his then-adventure party's captain, he would have died along with the others.
Since that day, this monster had been a frequent visitor in his nightmares.
But... he never expected to encounter it again after entering the ruins!
And this ti, his captain and Mister had been killed instantly!
When he witnessed his captain's powerful body being torn apart and devoured, he could no longer suppress the crippling terror in his heart—he just wanted to flee the ruins.
Yet even after reaching the mainland, even after running back into the city, the monster still pursued him!
Just as his strength completely drained, as he could no longer move even a step, and as hopelessness took root in his heart—
A rousing, heroic lody suddenly echoed in his ears.
The young man hesitated for a mont and instinctively turned toward the source of the music.
A brilliant beam of light suddenly pierced through the darkness, illuminating a corner of the street.
The monster halted, frozen in place, staring blankly at the scene before it.
Then—
A figure clad in a blue robe, draped in a red cloak, descended slowly from the heavens, bathed in the radiance of the light.
As he landed before the monster, he straightened his back, flourished his cloak, and extended his right hand, pointing directly at the creature.
His voice rang out with undeniable authority:
"Your sins, your weaknesses, they have nowhere to hide from my gaze!
"I am the one who sees through all things—Doctor Strange!"
The mont his words fell, another beam of light shone upon the monster's opposite side.
There, a figure clad in gold-and-red armor knelt upon one knee, right hand pressed to the ground.
As the brilliant glow illuminated him, he slowly lifted his head, his deep, steady voice resonating through the air:
"A champion of justice... A bane of monsters...
"I am—Iron Man."
At that very mont, the two pillars of light, which had broken through the darkness, trembled slightly—but quickly regained stability.
Up in the sky, Jane, seated atop a cloud-like spiritual entity, clutched two "Luminous" charms in her hands.
Her body shook slightly, as if she were struggling to hold back laughter.
At that instant, she decided to completely erase her earlier promise about playing a superhero as well.
In truth, it wasn't just her.
Even Ebner, who was portraying Doctor Strange, nearly broke character the mont Dunn delivered his lines.
Taking a deep breath, he withdrew the "Draconic Might" he had placed upon the monster—after all, without it, the beast wouldn't have stood still for their performance.
The next mont, he and Dunn exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them.
In perfect sync, they attacked simultaneously—
Ebner simulated a "Holy Light", while Dunn unleashed the "Light Storm" from his armor.
In an instant, brilliant radiance engulfed the monster, drowning the white-bone-masked creature in an overwhelming blaze of light.
"Hmm... It seems to be a Four-Ard Bone-Faced Ape. Its bone mask is a primary demonic material... I wonder where this young man encountered it, for it to have left such a deep impression as his worst nightmare."
Having disposed of the creature before the nightmare could end, Ebner rubbed his chin and casually remarked to Dunn.
As for how he knew that the bone mask was a demon's primary material—
That was because he had personally killed a Blood Worship cultist in Tingen who was a Serial Killer. From him, he had learned parts of the Demon pathway's formulae.
"I... I encountered it in the northern Antares Mountains... near Lastin Town!"
Before Dunn could respond, the young man, still gasping for breath, spoke up.
Unlike Jane, Dunn, or Ebner, he was the only one who didn't find the "Doctor Strange" and "Iron Man" entrance laughable.
Instead, he was filled with gratitude toward them.
The Antares Mountains?
I recall in the original story, there were rumors of Giant descendants in that region...
But I didn't expect there would also be a Beyonder creature containing demonic materials there...
Though Ebner found this a bit strange, he didn't dwell on it.
His "performance" wasn't over yet.
After giving the young man a nod, he and Dunn struck a synchronized victory pose.
Almost at the sa mont, the nightmare scene shattered, and Ebner, Dunn, and Jane once again reappeared before the Twilight Courtyard's entrance.
As for the young man they had rescued, he materialized within the courtyard's barrier. Barely conscious and still in a daze from waking up, he was imdiately pulled into yet another dream—one woven by Closfia—just like the other people who had entered the ruins.
"Only two nightmares left..." Dunn, using his Nightmare abilities, sensed their current states. His expression turned serious. "Both of their nightmares have already reached a dangerous stage... And one of them is soone Lady Closfia specifically instructed us to take care of. Let's split up for this one."
Ebner gave a small nod before turning his gaze toward the large collective dream visible within the barrier. He had no idea what ritual Closfia was conducting inside or what its purpose was, but judging by the increasing number of people being pulled into the dream, all of whom had just had their impressions of "Doctor Strange" and "Iron Man" deeply reinforced, he could tell—her ritual was reaching its critical mont.
At this point, adding one or two more people wouldn't make much difference... And considering that the remaining two nightmares involved soone Closfia had requested they personally look after and soone seemingly connected to Azik... neither of them were suitable to be thrown into the ritual.
.....
Inside a dreamscape ford by collective subconsciousness, countless Beyonders and even so ordinary people who had unknowingly stumbled in through their sleep were now experiencing firsthand the "past" of Doctor Strange and Iron Man. So of these stories were admirable, so touching, others thrilling, and so even humorous—but all of them had an undeniable pull, gradually imrsing the drears in their narrative.
And since most of them had just been "rescued" by the two heroes in an incredibly dramatic and morable fashion, they had no reason to doubt the authenticity of these stories. Instead, they felt that these past experiences were precisely what had shaped the two heroes into who they were today.
Even the ordinary people who had stumbled into the dream—though never personally rescued—had read about the "heroes" in newspapers. Now, seeing this firsthand felt like peeking behind the mask of legends.
Of course, so people were puzzled. Why would the past experiences of these heroes be displayed here? But the "clever" ones assud this was a glimpse into "Iron Man" and "Doctor Strange's" mories—which only made them believe the stories even more.
Amidst this perfectly crafted atmosphere, Closfia, hidden behind the scenes, placed The Book of Greed and Conspiracy onto the sacrificial altar. Then, she prayed devoutly to the Earth Mother Goddess.
Monts later, the altar held only a single extracted, purified Dream Weaver Beyonder characteristic. The mystical book itself had vanished.
Closfia had expected this outco. After all, that book was one of the "special relics" the Earth Mother Goddess had long commanded her to collect. It was the key component that had ensured the success of this ritual, so it was only natural that the Goddess would claim it.
She took a deep breath, reached out, and picked up the Beyonder characteristic, then placed it into a glass beaker that had already been prepared with auxiliary ingredients.
The mont it touched the liquid, the solution inside turned a shimring golden hue, rippling gently, clear and translucent.
But from different angles, Closfia felt as if she could see a golden vertical eye staring back at her.
Her gaze shifted back toward the drears. As the stories of "Iron Man" and "Doctor Strange" progressed to the point where they entered the ruins and began rescuing people from nightmares, Closfia lifted the beaker to her lips.
To create one or more distinctly defined characters... To weave stories for them that blur the line between reality and fiction... To establish them as legends throughout the continent... To make at least 500 people firmly believe in these figures... And at the mont when their impression and trust reach their peak—drink the potion.
Recalling the Dream Weaver's advancent ritual, Closfia drank the potion without hesitation.
.....
Nasali, the red-haired daughter of Duke Greycastle and student of Lady Greed, stared in horrified disbelief at the Magic Mirror before her. Its mouth opened wide, revealing rows of sharp fangs. She felt pure despair consu her.
So... it's finally my turn?
Nasali closed her eyes. mories of her teacher's ritual flashed vividly in her mind—she had watched as her teacher "offered sacrifices" to the Magic Mirror. One after another, adult n were devoured whole—leaving only their clothes behind.
Even though her teacher had chosen criminals as sacrifices, the sheer brutality of the Magic Mirror had long since cented itself as Nasali's deepest nightmare.
Even during her ti at sea, when she had interacted with Aurora Order's envoys, she had never personally faced such a soul-freezing terror.
This was the primal fear that prey felt when standing before a predator.
But just as she braced herself for inescapable death, waiting for the expected agony to co—nothing happened.
Seconds passed. Ten seconds. Fifteen.
Puzzled, Nasali cautiously opened her eyes—
And what she saw nearly drove her insane.
The Magic Mirror, now the size of a palm, was hopping excitedly toward a man who had suddenly appeared. Like a loyal pet, it rubbed affectionately against his boot.
The man, seemingly acting on instinct, kicked it away.
Yet the Magic Mirror simply bounced back and rubbed against him again.
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