96 The Faceless Dream
“Let me narrow it down for you,” the formless entity said, “White hair, gold eyes–anybody like that?”
The moment that was said, he found the memory stirred up of his encounter with the odd, beautiful woman amidst the night in Elsia before.
“Yeah…I recall meeting a woman with those features. She…was intimidating,” he answered.
“Ha-ha,” the entity laughed, “That sounds about right.”
“You know who that was?”
“Mm. It’s a bit complicated, but just think of that woman as a force of nature. Right now, she’s got her eye on you. If she deems you to be a danger to the stability of the world, well…” The enigmatic entity made a motion with his finger across his neck.
“Gk…” He winced at the thought, “Why me…? What’d I do?”
“Who knows. I’m sure you can figure that out for yourself. Either way, just try not to cause too much trouble and she probably won’t kill you,” the entity casually told him.
“Probably?” Emilio repeated.
After a less-than-enlightening exchange of words within the swirl of the dreamscape of cosmos, the entity moved on to the next question.
“I believe you’ve asked this question yourself,” the entity said, “that is: do you believe this world is an artificial creation, or a true, naturally-formed planet?”
“Huh…?”
“It’s a simple question, isn’t it? You came here with the pretense of this being a ‘game”–a fabrication of reality, an escape from your life. Now that you’ve lived in it and experienced it so far, which do you think it is?” The entity asked.
When posed with this question, he recalled his time in this world; the experienced cultivates, the relationships formed, the pain he suffered, and the joy he felt–it was all real. The family he loved and the friends he made; there was no place in his mind where any of that was false.
“…The Dragonheart System…” He said.
“Mm?” The entity looked at him.
He looked up, “Do you know what that is?”
The entity looked at him for a moment before shrugging, holding a playful smile, “I wonder. Anyway, it’s rude to answer a question with another question.”
In the face of such unknown, he couldn’t help but oblige the mysterious figure as he nodded.
“Right, then…I…I believe it’s real,” he answered.
“Interesting.”
“–“
“You’d like me to tell you which it is, don’t you?” The being asked with a smile.
“–” He stared silently.
“You’re hesitating. I know why: if I do end up telling you that this world is indeed just a fabrication, your perspective will change. You’re afraid of that; the knowledge would dull your relationships,” the entity said, “but, isn’t that wrong? They feel real to you already, don’t they? I don’t understand it very well. Isn’t that enough?”
He didn’t know how to answer, but he didn’t feel as if the mysterious entity was wrong, either. It was something that scared him: the truth.
Of course, he wanted it to all be real. Though he came into this world believing it to be a digital construction, he had believed for most of his second life now that it was as real as Earth.
But, if he was told that it was fake, by the entity that resembled a deity, there would be no denying it; the new life he’d found would be flipped.
“Would you like to know?” The entity asked.
It was right there; the truth was served to him on a silver platter, hidden only by a lid that could be removed by a single syllable word.
“Yes.”
Even if he knew he’d regret knowing if one answer came to be, the curiosity inside of him bubbled like an active volcano, bottled and unsteady.
This answer brought a grin across the faceless entity’s lips; the unidentified entity reached his hand out before answering:
“First off, I think there’s something else you might want to know first,” the entity told him.
“Huh? Something else? What’re you talking about?”
“Think about it,” the enigmatic figure said.
He was left perplexed, but as he thought about it, the question popped into his mind naturally–it was something he’d considered briefly over the years, but not something he could actually confirm in any meaningful way, seeing as he was secluded to his small town.
That’s right…a question like that is just as important, he thought.
More than that, the answer to the question would further his knowledge on whether or not the world he lived in was real or artificial.
“Figure it out?” The entity asked.
He nodded, “…The question is…In this world, are there others like me? People who entered Reincarnation Online and ended up here?”
There was nothing on the software’s page that he remembered mentioning it being a multiplayer experience, but it was futile to try and remember that.
It’s been over a decade, I wouldn’t trust my memory with that…He thought.
The entity smiled, “There are a few like you, yes.”
“–!” His eyes widened, “Then this is…?”
“Ah, don’t be so hasty,” the entity stopped him, “The existence of others like you doesn’t mean the world of Arcadius is one thing or another. Be it a glitch in the system, if it were a game, or the act of an all-powerful entity, if this were reality…exceptions do occur.”
“…Just tell me, please…stop beating around the bush!” He prodded.
The figure stared at him for a moment before smirking, “Sure. Listen closely.”
He nodded, surprised that they obliged so easily as he listened in, leaning forward as he gulped.
“The truth is–”
It was all a blur; static in his mind by the time he woke up.
As his eyelids parted, his ears being abrasively greeted by the sound of the carriage wheels moving through the night, he’d forgotten that peculiar dream.
…My brain’s all fuzzy. Did I sleep weird? He thought.
–
What followed for the near future was nothing short of a “calm”; through the great forest, the carriage slugged along as he was cooped up in the carriage, day in and day out, only going out for bathroom purposes or to clear a particularly messy path for the steed.
Only twice a week did the carriage actually stop and they’d camp out.
[One Such Night]
The campfire was calmly swaying; the orange light provided warmth amidst the briskness of the forest night. Critters clicked and creatures called out within the maze of trees.
Despite the presence of such beasts within the great forest, Vandread calmly ate his meal: a smoked piece of fish that had been stored in his special cloth.
“How far are we from the other end of this place?” He asked.
“Far,” Vandread answered, minimally as always.
“–” He quietly ate.
He was the same; by now, he’d grown used to the wilderness nights, though sleeping was a whole other beast.
The steed snored, as well as Vandread; beyond that, he constantly scratched at his arms and legs as insects tried crawling over his body.