Popos_Zedan

In the shadows of a world unraveling, she drew her last breath in the fifth year of the apocalypse. Yet, fate had other plans. As she opened her eyes, time bent, and she found herself transported back to two fateful months before the end of everything she knew. With the enigmatic Boss Lady System by her side, Tyla sensed the weight of destiny pressing down upon her. How would she navigate the looming darkness and the secrets yet to unfold?

Meanwhile, deep in the stillness of the night, he awoke at 2 a.m., drenched in sweat, haunted by an ethereal figure—a faceless woman who prowled the depths of his nightmares. Each pulse of anguish echoed with a promise of vengeance. He could not rest until she was found; the blade he once gifted her now a curse that bound them together. As shadows whispered around him, he vowed she would pay for the betrayal that plunged him into this relentless quest.

Lady boss at the end of the world

Tyla drifted above the shifting cityscape, her body heavy with exhaustion. Each breath felt like wading through thick air, her limbs numb from overusing her mana. Below, the eerie streets stretched in endless distortion, roads looping where they shouldn't, alleys vanishing into nothingness.

She inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself.

System 111, still clinging to her hair, let out a small sigh. "Lady Boss… you look like you're about to pass out."

"I feel like I'm about to pass out," Tyla muttered. She rubbed her temples, trying to will away the throbbing headache creeping in.

The system fluttered in front of her, twirling in slow circles as if stretching after a scare. "You know, the astral world is really weird when you think about it. It's not just a dream world—it's, like, a place where everything exists at once."

System 111 nodded enthusiastically. "Yup! The past, the present, and even the future of all things are layered on top of each other here. That's why buildings flicker between different eras or why time doesn't work properly."

Tyla frowned, glancing down at the streets below. Even now, she could see it—the way some structures crumbled into ruins before reforming into something brand new, the way people's shadows didn't always match their bodies.

"So… it's like a giant, living memory?" she asked.

"Kinda!" The pixie did a little spin in the air. "But not just memories—thoughts, emotions, dreams. This place is shaped by the collective consciousness of everything that has ever existed. People, creatures, even entire civilizations leave traces of themselves here."

Tyla exhaled, watching as an alleyway twisted into a spiral before vanishing entirely. "No wonder it's such a mess."

System 111 giggled. "It is a bit chaotic, huh? But it makes sense when you think about it. Reality is like a river, always flowing forward, but the astral world is the ocean—deep, vast, and holding everything at once."

Tyla hummed in thought. That explained a lot—the way she kept seeing flickers of places that didn't belong, the feeling of being watched, as if countless unseen eyes were observing her across time.

"…So that means if I go too far, I could end up in a place that doesn't even exist yet?"

"Uh-huh. Or a place that no longer exists." System 111 tapped her tiny chin. "That's why astral projection is tricky! The deeper you go, the harder it is to find your way back. And since you ran so far to escape that shadow thing…"

Tyla groaned, already regretting her reckless sprint. "Great. Just what I needed."

The pixie patted her cheek reassuringly. "Don't worry, Lady Boss! I believe in you! …Mostly."

Tyla shot her a dry look. "Thanks."

She took another steadying breath. Despite her exhaustion, the explanation helped. The astral world wasn't just random—it had rules, even if they were bizarre.

Now, she just had to figure out how to use them to get back.

But when she reached for the tether connecting her astral body to her real one… nothing. No pull, no guiding thread.

Her fingers clenched as she floated aimlessly, trying to force her will into moving back. But the space around her twisted mockingly, stretching time and distance. The harder she tried, the more lost she felt.

Not a voice, but a feeling—something pulling at the edges of her soul.

Ahead, rising from the warped skyline, was a monument that shouldn't be here. It belonged in Vasthaven, the capital—hundreds of kilometers away from Lirienne, the coastal city where Tyla lived. A journey that would take at least six hours in the real world. Yet, in the few minutes she had fled from the shadow, she had crossed an impossible distance.

sweet dreams' embrace (1)