Chapter 6: The One Who Shouldn’t Exist
Klein had met many strange beings.
Angels who twisted reality with a whisper.
Elders who wove fate like thread.
Monsters that lurked beneath the skin of humanity.
And yet—
Yeaia was something else entirely.
Not divine. Not eldritch. Not even quite human.
They were erased.
And Klein was going to find out why.
---
"Tell Me What You Are."
The candlelight flickered between them.
Yeaia sat cross-legged on Klein's desk, their silver-gray eyes distant as they stared at the words carved into the wood.
"You really want to know?" they murmured.
Klein leaned forward. "Yes."
A beat passed.
Then, softly—
"I am a Pathway that should not exist."
Klein's breath hitched.
A Pathway?
Not a Beyonder. Not even a Sequence.
A Pathway.
A fundamental law of the world—something that shaped reality itself.
"What does that mean?" Klein asked, his voice quieter now.
Yeaia tilted their head, their black-and-white hair falling over one eye.
"It means that I am the echo of a dream that was never meant to be."
Klein stilled.
Yeaia's fingers traced over the desk absentmindedly, as if touching something barely real.
"There were always supposed to be 22 Pathways," they said softly. "Each one woven into the fabric of existence. The Fool. The Hanged Man. The Sun. The Visionary. The Error."
They smiled, a quiet, exhausted thing.
"But I am not one of them."
"I was never supposed to be."
Klein felt something cold settle in his chest.
"Then… what are you?"
Yeaia's gaze met his.
"I am the Dreamer Pathway."
A Pathway that was never meant to exist.
Something that was never written into reality.
---
The Dream That Faded
"There was once a time," Yeaia began, "when the world was still being shaped. When the gods were still young and the Sequences were still forming."
Their voice was hollow. Like someone reciting a story they had told a thousand times before.
"In that time, there was a being who dreamed."
Klein listened, silent.
"This being did not desire power. Did not seek control. Did not wish for knowledge or dominion."
"They only wanted to sleep."
"And in their sleep, they created."
Yeaia's fingers brushed against the candlelight, the glow flickering as if caught between realities.
"The Dreamer was a god that never woke."
"And from their sleep, the Dreaming Pathway was born."
"It was a Pathway without ambition, without hunger. A Pathway of procrastination, forgetfulness, wandering, and unreality."
"A Pathway that did nothing but exist—and in its existence, refused to be real."
Klein's eyes narrowed.
"If it existed… then why is it gone?"
Yeaia let out a quiet breath.
"Because the world rejected it."
Their voice was so small.
"The Great Ones decided that a Pathway that did nothing, that sought nothing, was useless."
"And so, they erased it."
A shiver ran down Klein's spine.
"They erased an entire Pathway?"
Yeaia nodded.
"The Dreaming Pathway was unmade. Removed from reality, forgotten by history. Every trace of it was wiped from existence."
"And yet…"
They looked down at their hands.
"I remain."
A Pathway that was erased.
A concept that the world itself had forgotten.
And yet, Yeaia existed.
---
"Why Are You Here?"
Klein exhaled, steadying himself.
"So… if the Dreaming Pathway was erased, then what are you?"
Yeaia's expression was unreadable.
"I don't know."
"I am not a god. Not an angel. Not even a true Beyonder."
"I am the last remnant of something that should not be."
"A dream that refuses to fade."
Klein stared at them, piecing it together.
Yeaia was not a normal being.
Not a person who had taken a Sequence.
Not a Sealed Artifact or a distortion of reality.
They were something left behind.
A ghost of an entire Pathway.
And yet…
"Someone is trying to erase you again."
Yeaia stilled.
Klein's eyes sharpened.
"You said it yourself. The Dreamer Pathway was erased. But you're still here."
"That means someone—something—is trying to finish what they started."
The air felt heavier.
Yeaia's smile was tired.
"Maybe."
"Maybe I was just too slow to disappear."
"Maybe I was a mistake left behind when they erased the rest."
"Or maybe…"
They looked at Klein, and for the first time, their expression was serious.
"Maybe someone is bringing me back."
A long silence fell between them.
Klein's grip on his pen tightened.
"Who?"
Yeaia's silver-gray eyes gleamed in the candlelight.
"I don't know."
"But I think we're about to find out."
And in that moment—a knock echoed at the door.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
Klein's blood ran cold.
Because he knew.
No one was supposed to be able to find him here.
---
End of Chapter 6
---