[The Trial of the Dream Rift]

“Is this moral coercion?” Archie asked.

“You could think of it that way,” Eugene said, completely unashamed.

Archie stared coldly at the two men in front of him, recalling the words from his father’s notebook. A chill and deep contempt filled his heart toward the Inspection Bureau.

Charlie and Albert… is this the kind of organization they risked their lives for?

Honestly, it’s laughable.

“I don’t know,” Archie said coldly.

Eugene sighed and glanced at Job. “Looks like words alone aren’t enough to convince you.”

He lifted his hand toward his glasses again, and Archie instantly noticed the movement, alarm bells ringing in his mind.

He had done this motion earlier, but was stopped by Job. What is it? What will happen? Is it some kind of Origin Ability?

“Don’t worry, Dr. Archie,” Eugene leaned closer, finger slowly taking off his glasses. Beneath the black frame, his dark pupils swirled like tangled threads, trying to pull in anyone who met his gaze. “Just think of it as a nightmare you can’t wake up from.”

‘Sphinx! You must convey the information you heard earlier to Lord Ranen!’ Archie thought frantically. He wasn’t sure if Sphinx could understand, but something told him that if this man’s ability really was related to hypnosis, then things would be very, very bad.

He had too much intel that must never be revealed—especially considering Archie’s own origin abilities were a massive source of information.

*Ding—*

Suddenly, the text tone of a message rang out in the room. Eugene paused for two seconds, straightened up, and pulled a phone from his pocket.

No one knew what he saw on the screen, but his eyes widened slightly, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

“Interesting…”

What? What happened?

Eugene tossed the phone to Job, then turned and walked out of the room. “Come on. Wake that hacker up. We don’t have time to let him sleep.”

Job caught the phone and looked at the screen.

[Leave Archie immediately, or I’ll destroy the Outsider’s legacy.]

“Is this… a message from Albert?” Job’s eyes widened. He glanced at Archie, who looked back in confusion, then pursed his lips and followed Eugene out.

As soon as they left, Archie’s mind spun into overdrive.

What did Job just say? Albert sent a message? But isn’t he still inside Lord Ranen’s divine kingdom…?

Gritting his teeth, Archie shut his eyes and entered the Dream Rift. Sphinx didn’t even need him to explain—seeing Archie’s figure, it immediately turned and stepped into the mist.

‘I must inform Lord Ranen about this immediately!’

Sphinx returned to the divine kingdom through the mist. The moment it entered, Ranen sensed its arrival and turned with a curious look. But before he could speak, Sphinx blurted out in urgency, “Something’s wrong, Lord Ranen! Archie’s in trouble!”

It quickly relayed the interrogation Archie had faced, how a message had interrupted Eugene’s ability just in time, and even mentioned the name Job had whispered at the end.

“Albert?” Ranen’s eyes were filled with astonishment. “But… that’s impossible.”

“Because Albert is still in a deep coma—he hasn’t woken up at all.”

Albert was still in Ranen’s divine kingdom, and not a single movement could escape Ranen’s perception here. Albert had been entirely motionless, like he would never wake.

But if Albert didn’t send that message… then who did?

—-

Eugene and Job returned to the hospital—it had only been an hour since they left. Edmund looked at them in confusion, stunned to see them back so quickly.

“Did something happen?”

“No time for chit-chat,” Eugene grabbed Job by the collar and barged into the ICU. “Use your ability on him—wake him up no matter what!”

Job didn’t argue. Though he was irritated by Eugene’s tone, he understood the urgency. Ignoring his own weakness, he activated his ability on Edie once more.

A faint white light filled the ICU room, glowing and fading in cycles. The whole process lasted at least an hour.

An hour later, Job was nearly unconscious, slumped in a chair. Edie’s complexion had improved significantly, but he still showed no signs of waking up. Eugene called over several doctors to examine him. None of them had ever seen someone go from near-death to stable within a day, and their worldview was momentarily shattered. After some intense threats from Eugene, they finally came to their senses and stammered:

“Th-this might be due to the patient having stopped breathing and lost cardiac blood supply for a period of time… which caused cerebral hypoxia.”

“When will he wake up?” Eugene demanded.

“This… this is hard to say. It could be the next second, or he might not wake up for a very long time,” the doctor said hesitantly. He didn’t give a definite answer, but anyone with basic medical knowledge could hear the implication:

Edie might very well become a vegetable.

Eugene didn’t even frown at the news. He waved away the extra doctors and nurses, took off his black gloves, and pressed his palm against Edie’s head.

“W-Wait, what are you doing?” Job asked weakly.

“Shut up,” Eugene said coldly. “We don’t have time to let him stay in bed.”

“It’s time to wake up, Edie.”

Eugene’s Origin Ability, [Hypnotist], allowed him to invade a person’s consciousness and spirit through eye contact or physical touch, enabling suggestions, hypnotic commands, or even reality rewrites.

As one delved deeper into the levels of the Dream Rift, Origin Abilities could evolve into new forms—just like Edmund’s ability, [Clown], which initially enhanced his physical skills and mastery with blades, and later developed into control over his limbs and rapid healing.

Eugene’s [Hypnotist] was no exception. Beyond basic suggestion, he had developed techniques like mental streamlining and consciousness disruption.

He had used this to forcibly wake Job up earlier—and now, he was doing the same to Edie.

Edie’s peaceful sleeping face was instantly twisted in pain. His brow furrowed, and his face contorted in agony. Beside him, the brainwave monitor began to spike erratically. Job tried to stop this violent method, but he couldn’t even stand up.

Five minutes later, Edie let out a scream and finally opened his eyes, suddenly sitting up in bed.

“Finally awake,” Eugene snorted and tossed a phone to Edie. “Time to work. Track the address this message came from.”

Edie stared blankly. Even with the phone in his hands, he didn’t seem to register what was happening. Eugene, visibly impatient, grabbed his face and took off his glasses. “Now, use your ability to trace the origin of that message. Understand?”

His pitch-black eyes seemed to swirl like tangled threads, drawing everything into a void. Edie shuddered, picked up the phone, and followed Eugene’s instructions instinctively.

His ability, [Cyber Phantom], activated by force. As he typed out responses to the messages, he used his powers to track the address in real-time during the exchange.

[Are you Albert? What are you planning?]

[^-^]

[So that thing really is with you. I’ve left Archie. Hand it over.]

—-

Reading the incoming texts, a man with rare long black hair let out a soft chuckle, casually tossing the phone over Arkham Hospital’s wall. Humming a cheerful tune, he walked along the road beneath the shade of trees.

Passersby couldn’t help but turn their heads—no wonder. The man was strikingly handsome, with a delicate softness rarely seen in Western men. A faint floral fragrance lingered around him.

Archie Hayes.

Amos repeated the name silently in his heart. He remembered this cold, iceberg-like man. Though he hadn’t been the center of the last operation, for various reasons, he had hovered in that ambiguous, dangerous edge.

He was Albert’s closest friend, childhood companion, and childhood sweetheart.

And his father… was the Bureau’s undercover agent sent to infiltrate the Outsider.

But at this moment, to Amos, Archie had only one identity that mattered—a follower of Ranen.

“Saving Archie Hayes… that should count as no small favor to him.”

Amos murmured softly. He closed his eyes and stood beneath the leafy shade lining the road. Today was a rare sunny day in Arkham. Warm sunlight filtered through the trees, casting irregular dappled shadows across Amos’s deceptively gentle features.

Passersby were all unconsciously drawn to him. It wasn’t just like seeing a beautiful flower by the roadside—it was something deeper. As if, if this man willed it, he could effortlessly become the center of any crowd.

Or… he could vanish into the background, unnoticed. A ghost with no presence at all.

Amos opened his eyes. The crowd, which had just been inexplicably captivated, now carried on as if nothing had happened. None of them remembered stopping to admire a handsome stranger.

Ranen.

He whispered the name in his heart, and a blush of obsession crept over his fair face. The thought of that mysterious flower—an unparalleled treasure that could never be found in the real world—itched at him like ants crawling under his skin.

After stealing the Soul Flower of the Outsider leader Soren, Amos had disappeared for a long time to absorb and digest the strange petals.

He had gained knowledge that others could never imagine. And with it, his desire for Ranen grew stronger.

He had a feeling—that this was the ultimate thing he’d been searching for.

No one, not even a god, was more extraordinary than Ranen.

But the question of how to approach this goal was a difficult one.

Still, that didn’t matter. If there was one thing Amos never feared, it was solving difficult problems.

He had spent years lurking by the side of the Outsider’s leader, and he could spend his entire life chasing the ultimate flower.

And his next target…

Amos glanced at the Arkham hospital wall, lips curling into a faint smile.

Let the Bureau clear the path for him.

—-

“Found it,” Edie said weakly, bloodshot eyes full of exhaustion. His mental and physical state had long since hit their limits, but under Eugene’s hypnotic command, he forced his dried-out body to overextend his mind.

“The location is… in this area.” With the last of his strength, Edie pointed to a spot on the map—then collapsed into unconsciousness.

“Tch.” Eugene clicked his tongue, frowning at the map before glancing at the two in the ICU ward.

Both Job and Edie had fainted from forcibly overusing their abilities.

Outside, Dana and Eunice were still recovering from their injuries.

“Tch… Not a single one of you is usable right now.”

…

When Edie regained consciousness, he had already been transferred to another ward.

“I… I just…”

“Oh, Edie, you’re awake.” Dana brought over some water and fruit. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better.” Edie forced a weak smile and sat up in bed—then immediately clutched his head. “What’s going on? My head is killing me…”

“That bastard forced a hypnotic ability on you earlier. Sorry, I couldn’t stop him.”

The voice came from the adjacent ward. Edie turned his head and was shocked to see who was lying in the next bed. “Captain?”

He barely recognized the man as Job. Just days ago, Job had been in peak physical condition—strong, muscular, the kind of guy anyone would call a beast.

But the current Job’s figure was almost a size smaller than before, and his face was gaunt and emaciated, like withered wood.

“What the hell happened!?”

“Just… some side effects from overusing my ability,” Job replied vaguely.

“That’s not just a side effect,” Dana said. She was one of the least injured in the team and was now able to move around. She poured water for both Edie and Job. “I saw it myself—Captain’s limbs were cut off.”

“His arms and legs?” Edie’s eyes widened. And now that he looked closely, he noticed the skin on Job’s limbs looked different—like it had regrown.

Then it came back to him—before he lost consciousness, they’d been fighting the cult.

Which meant…

He looked toward Dana. Dana said calmly, “We lost. If it weren’t for your distress signal that brought Edmund and the police, we’d all be dead.”

“That damn cult—how dare they act so brazenly!” Edie’s chest rose and fell with anger.

“Yeah… no one expected them to hit back so hard, so fast,” Job said bitterly. “Sorry. That was my misjudgment. I thought if we moved fast enough, we could avoid any surprises.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Captain,” Dana sighed. “Who could’ve predicted that the leader of Black Poker would still be alive… How did he even survive?”

No one had an answer. Or rather, this question had been lingering in everyone’s mind for a while—how had someone who was just a weak, powerless pawn until recently suddenly launched such a devastating counterattack?

“God…”

Eunice’s voice drew everyone’s attention. She spoke in a hollow, numb tone: “Other than that possibility, what else is there?”

“God… huh.” Job muttered.

The deity of the Secret Church…

Of course they knew that cults had their own patron gods—so everything they had suffered until now, had it all been divine retribution from some evil god?

Even in the Investigation Bureau’s line of work, evil gods were extremely rare to encounter. Investigators almost never left records behind when it came to them, and the reason was simple:

Those who had seen an evil god were either dead… or insane.

They were entities that completely broke all established norms. They couldn’t easily descend into reality—but once they got involved in any incident, regardless of the original classification, the case would instantly escalate to an “Unknown”-level mission. Very few investigators survived those.

That’s why the squad never even considered the possibility at first.

While everyone fell into silence, Edie slowly dragged himself up and grabbed the nearby computer.

Job panicked. “Edie! You’re in no condition to use your powers!”

“But I can’t just sit here!” Edie didn’t need Job to tell him how bad his condition was. Just staring at the screen made his head throb unbearably.

But he couldn’t do nothing. At the very least—at the very least—he had to investigate what this Secret Church really was. There was no way it was some small, newly formed cult! No minor group had so many fanatical members willing to die for it!

“What’s with the loser’s howling?” Eugene pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Seeing Edie’s state, he sneered, “Looks like you’re recovering pretty well. Perfect.”

“It’s time to get back to work.”

—-

“So their target is the Outsider’s legacy, huh…” Ranen murmured, recalling the information Sphinx had shared with him earlier.

He had once again returned to Albert’s hospital room. As expected, the blond man still lay unconscious on the bed, teetering on the brink of life and death.

It was strange, really—Albert’s condition hadn’t gotten any worse, but it also hadn’t improved. It was stuck in this precarious limbo. Sometimes, Ranen would almost forget there was a comatose patient lying inside his divine kingdom.

Old Luke frequently lingered nearby, but Ranen couldn’t communicate with him, so he still didn’t know why Luke had brought Albert back in the first place.

Thanks to intelligence from Archie and Edmund, Ranen now knew that Albert had become the center of yet another conspiracy. If he left things as they were, it was only a matter of time before someone tracked this place down.

But abandoning Albert wasn’t an option. Not just because he was Archie’s friend—Ranen himself couldn’t bring himself to abandon a justice-driven investigator like him.

Well, sure, their stances were probably… technically enemies.

But still—

He remembered how Albert had recklessly risked his life to save Arkham during their confrontation with the Outsider leader Soren. Even if it meant burning himself out, he had fought for the city’s survival. Ranen couldn’t turn his back on that.

No matter what, Albert deserved credit for saving Arkham.

Ranen summoned his staff and held a seed in his left hand.

After a series of experiments within his divine kingdom, he’d finally developed the ability to grow a variety of magical plants. It was far easier than enchanting weapons—maybe his divine gifts lay in flora and fauna after all?

The spiritual seed in Ranen’s hand began to glow, eventually sprouting into a delicate shoot. He plucked a small leaf from the sprout, pried open Albert’s mouth, and placed it inside.

Soon, a miracle occurred—Albert’s badly burned and scarred skin began turning gray, flaking off like dead skin. Beneath it, fresh, healthy flesh started to grow.

After using about two or three seeds, the burns on Albert’s body were virtually gone, and his handsome face had returned to its former appearance.

But—he still showed no sign of waking up.

Ranen had tried everything he could think of. Yet the blond man remained asleep, like a fairytale Sleeping Beauty, eyes stubbornly closed. Ranen was puzzled.

“Master, Master.” Sphinx rubbed up against Ranen’s leg, eagerly presenting himself.

“I almost forgot about you,” Ranen turned his head to look at Sphinx. “Do you have any way to wake him?”

Sphinx put on a serious expression. “May I ask, Lord Ranen—what kind of cats do you like?”

“Uh… ones that like to snuggle with me, I guess,” Ranen thought for a moment. “I’m not too fond of the aloof kind.”

Upon hearing this, Sphinx froze in place like he had turned to stone.

It’s over. The great feline faith hasn’t even begun, and is he already out of the game?

“Well? Your answer?”

Sphinx replied with difficulty, “This person is currently in a state of trial, which is why he still hasn’t woken up.”

“Trial?” Ranen was surprised.

“Yes. Even though you healed his physical injuries, he cannot wake up because his soul is currently trapped in the third level of the Dream Rift’s trial,” Sphinx said solemnly, staring at the unconscious blond man. “And this level… is the most dangerous and unpredictable of them all.”

Ranen frowned. “Will he die?”

“Die? N-no, not exactly. In a way, no one really dies in this trial,” Sphinx flicked its tail. “Everyone can return from it unharmed… but whether the one who returns is still themselves—now that’s another story.”

Ranen froze. For a moment, past pieces of intel flashed through his mind—the faceless one, the strange entities that began appearing on the staircases of the second level…

“You mean—”

“You’re absolutely right,” Sphinx nodded. “This level tests the subconscious. It might take the form of a dream or memory. Those greedy abominations will invade the human subconscious, attack them, and consume them. If someone fails this trial… the monsters lingering on the staircases, the dead that haunt the dreams, will take their place—and return to the real world in their stead.”

Sphinx rose to its feet and circled Albert’s bed, clicking its tongue. “He’s in serious danger now. Just like the previous level, the faster you pass through the third level of the Dream Rift, the better. The longer it takes, the more entities are drawn into his subconscious, swarming through the mist and waging war in his dreams. And now… how long has he been lying here?”

Ranen: “At least a week…”

Sphinx gasped. “Well, that’s it then. Might as well prepare the funeral. No way the one who wakes up is still this guy. At this rate, even A-level anomalies might’ve shown up by now. He’s done for—bury him.”

Ranen looked at Albert. He lay peacefully, those ocean-blue eyes closed.

Ranen suddenly recalled the first time they met—a bright and sunny police officer, a secretive undercover agent moving through the dark. Which side of him was the real Albert?

“Master?” Sphinx called out hesitantly.

Ranen snapped out of it and realized his hand had unconsciously drifted to Albert’s cheek.

If Albert never woke up, then the Outsider’s legacy might never see the light of day.

Ranen still had so many questions—about Miskatonic University, about the Outsider.

Could he find answers in Albert’s dream?

As the thought crossed his mind, some hidden force stirred in response. Mist began to rise around Ranen, thick and heavy. It formed a link between him and the man on the bed. Sphinx instinctively reached out a paw—but caught only empty air.

Ranen had vanished.