Truth

"Dream…" Nietzsche muttered unconsciously as he stared at the oil painting.

Through it, he seemed to see a starry sky… and a hazy phantom.

"Nietzsche, what happened to you?" Hannibal shook Nietzsche's shoulder, seemingly realizing that something was wrong.

Nietzsche turned his head subconsciously, feeling as though a layer of white mist was covering his vision.

In the white mist, Hannibal's shape was completely different. His skin corroded and fell off, revealing the bright red muscles under them. His hands turned into claws, and his eyes were blood red!

"Ahh!!!" The young man screamed. His face turned pale, and he almost fainted.

When he finally lifted his head, he saw a displeased Mr. Robert and Hannibal, whose appearance had returned to normal.

It seemed as though everything he saw just now was but an illusion.