sweet dreams' embrace (2)

The monument was a breathtaking relic of history, built centuries ago by Emperor Aurelian Valcrest to honor his beloved wife. Its once-pristine marble arches now flickered between states of ruin and grandeur. At times, it loomed impossibly tall, its ivory domes gleaming under an ethereal glow, intricate carvings whispering tales of love and devotion. Other times, it crumbled into dust, the echoes of forgotten footsteps drifting through the air like ghosts.

Tyla stared, a shiver running down her spine.

This place was sacred, timeless. And yet, in the astral world, it was just another fragment of the past and future collapsing into one.

A chill crawled down her spine.

Why is this here?

The pull strengthened. It wasn't forcing her—just… waiting.

She hesitated, then moved toward it.

As she approached, the shadows thickened, swirling like ink bleeding into water. The air became heavy. And then—

A figure.

A man stood at the monument's base, his silver hair catching the eerie twilight glow. He moved with lethal precision, his long coat flaring behind him like the dark wings of a fallen angel as he cut through the writhing creatures clawing toward him.

Tyla's breath caught.

Arthur Stone.

Even in this twisted world, he was striking—his icy blue eyes burning with cold fury, his lean, muscular frame tense with exertion. But there was something haunting about the battle before her.

The creatures surrounding him were not just monsters. They were nightmares given form—shadows of pain and loneliness woven into grotesque shapes. Some had hollow, gaping maws but no voices, as if screaming into an endless void. Others bore empty, frozen eyes, their bodies twisting in unnatural ways, trapped in an eternal grasp for something just out of reach. Wisps of black mist clung to them, pulsing with the frigid chill of isolation.

Arthur fought them relentlessly, his every movement precise, efficient—desperate. Yet for every nightmare he cut down, more rose in its place, shifting between shapes as if mocking him. A faceless figure reached for him with fingers like broken glass. Another clutched at his coat, its form flickering between a child and a beast, its jagged whispers full of longing.

Still, he did not falter.

He was fighting himself.

Fighting the things that lurked in the depths of his mind—the cold that had seeped into his soul, the emptiness that even power and wealth could not fill. The nightmares swarmed him, but he stood unyielding, as if sheer will alone could silence the echoes of his own torment.

Tyla clenched her fists.

This was the man who had imprisoned her in another life. A man who had always been untouchable, unreadable. Yet here, stripped bare in the realm of dreams, his struggle was laid open for all to see.

And it terrified her.

Her heart pounded. Why is he here?

System 111 trembled beside her. "L-Lady Boss… those monsters… They're his nightmares."

Tyla tore her gaze away from Arthur, swallowing hard. "What?"

"He must be sleeping. These are nightmares born from his mind—twisted echoes of his fears."

A sick chill settled in her gut. Arthur was fighting his own nightmares… trapped in them.

She should leave.

Tyla's hands curled into fists. She owed him nothing.

'He imprisoned me in my past life. Let him suffer.'

The thought echoed through her mind, sharp and bitter. This was justice, wasn't it? Watching him drown in his own darkness, powerless—just as she had been under his control.

And yet…

Her eyes remained fixed on him. On the way he fought with brutal efficiency, never stopping, never yielding, even as the nightmares clawed at him with hands shaped from loneliness and pain.

She knew what it felt like to be trapped.

Tyla's throat tightened, her breath unsteady.

'Just turn around. Go home.'

But then—

Ding!

A new tab flickered into existence on her system interface.

[Soulmate]

Tyla's breath hitched.

That option had been inactive. It shouldn't have changed. And yet now, it glowed with an eerie light.

A mission appeared.

[Save your soulmate from his nightmares.]

Penalty for failure: Death (Host & System).

Her entire body went cold.

System 111 let out a strangled squeak. "I-I didn't do that! It's the system's main function—Lady Boss, if you don't do this… we'll both die!"

Tyla's pulse thundered in her ears.

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair.

She should have been the one to decide. To turn away and leave him to his fate. To prove to herself that she didn't care.

But now… now there was no choice.

A shaky breath left her lips, and with it, something inside her eased—a terrible, unspoken relief.

She had spent her more than two years of her previous life suffering because of this man. And yet, when faced with the decision, she hadn't been able to walk away.

But it wasn't her decision anymore.

She could blame the system.

Her fingers twitched. She swallowed hard.

Then, slowly, she turned toward the battlefield.

Her pulse roared in her ears as she turned back to Arthur. He was fighting, but there were too many. The nightmares coiled around him, whispering in warped voices—his fears, his regrets, his demons. His movements were slowing.

Tyla clenched her jaw.

Damn it.

She raised a hand. A pure light flickered to life, brighter than before. The soulmate bond pulsed, amplifying her power. Her astral form shimmered—blurred—hiding her identity.

Then she moved.

Gliding down, Tyla plunged into the chaos.

A burst of pure light erupted from her, slicing through the monstrous figures like a divine blade. The nightmares screeched, writhing as their dark forms unraveled, burning away under the purifying force.

Arthur's sharp gaze snapped to her.

For the first time, shock flickered across his cold, unshaken features. His icy blue eyes widened—not in fear, but in something raw, something dangerous.

Tyla didn't falter. She reached for him, her fingers glowing with radiant energy. The moment her hand pressed against his chest—right over his heart—warmth surged between them, a pulse of power so intense it sent shivers down her spine.

His body went rigid. His breath hitched.

His gaze locked onto hers, and in it, she saw fire beneath the ice—a storm barely restrained, something unspoken yet searing.

Then, his nightmares fought back.

The shadows lashed out, clinging to him with desperate, clawing tendrils, resisting the purification. The darkness surged, a final attempt to pull him under.

The bond between them pulsed violently, demanding more—demanding something deeper.

Tyla's heartbeat pounded in her ears. She knew what she had to do.

Stepping closer, she lifted a trembling hand to his jaw, feeling the coldness of his skin beneath her fingertips. His entire body tensed at her touch. A breath passed between them, charged, heavy.

Then, she rose onto her toes and kissed him.

A shockwave of golden light exploded outward, engulfing them both.

Arthur froze. His entire being shuddered against hers. The nightmares let out an agonized wail before shattering, their twisted forms dissolving into tiny, glowing spirits—sweet dream creatures, fluttering like fireflies in the dim astral world.

For a moment, time itself seemed to halt.

Arthur's fingers twitched—hesitant, unsure—before brushing lightly against her waist. His breath was ragged, his body caught between yielding and resisting, as if something inside him was breaking apart and reforming all at once.

Then—just as she felt the faintest pull, the beginning of something dangerous and intoxicating—he disappeared.

Tyla staggered, gasping for air. The world around her pulsed, the tether to her physical body snapping back into sharp focus.

She was going home.

The last thing she saw before fading was the dream spirits swirling in the air like scattered stardust… and the lingering, ghostly warmth of Arthur's lips against hers.