I stood frozen in place like a tree trunk, staring at the dream versions of my former family—but with foggy, indistinct faces.
I didn’t understand why they were like this.
I was certain that everything had been vivid and real in Elliot’s dream, so why were they like this?
The dreams created by the Demon of Dreams were designed from the memories of its prey and built upon their emotions... like mine.
So did I not remember their faces?Are you kidding me? How could I not?
I frowned as I tried to recall my memories with my family—and I succeeded.
I still remembered everything in detail: how they behaved, the way they spoke, the warm atmosphere around them... everything.
Except for two things.
Their faces... and their names.
"How is this possible... how can I not remember something this important?" I muttered, feeling my eyes widen slightly against my will.
Why hadn’t I noticed this before?
My older sister stood up from her chair and walked toward me."What’s wrong with you today? Why are you standing there frozen like an idiot?"
Even if my conscious mind didn’t remember them... my subconscious still did.
Or was it because this body wasn’t the same as my past one?
She stopped in front of me, brought her foggy face close, then grabbed my face and turned it left and right as she examined it... she wasn’t gentle.
"Well, your head looks fine, so sit down and let me eat my dinner." She spoke, irritation clear in her voice.
Forget about their faces.
What about their names? Why couldn’t I remember them?
"Are you okay?" my mother asked worriedly.
And what about... my name?
My previous name—what was it?
I grabbed my head and looked at them one by one before answering.
My voice came out slightly shaky due to my dry throat and chaotic thoughts."I’m fine, I just... just got lost in thought."
Then I pushed my sister’s hand away—she was still playing with my head like a ball—and walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
I sat there, my thoughts still in disarray.
"Are you alright, my son?" my father asked from beside me.
He didn’t call me by my name.
I nodded unconsciously, then looked at him and asked,"Dad, what’s your name?"
"Did you forget your father’s name?" he asked, amusement clear in his voice. Perhaps he thought I was joking.
"Just tell me." I insisted.
I felt something hit the back of my head... of course, it was my sister."Have you started losing your mind or what? What kind of question is that?"
My father laughed, then sighed and answered,"My name is ******."
Just as I expected, I heard nothing.
I asked another question, this time to my mother."Mom, what’s my name?"
I felt her blink at me behind the fog before answering."Of course, your name is *****."
This made no sense.
I remembered many people from my first life—their names and their faces—but I couldn’t remember my family... I even remembered the city’s layout in detail and the names of many places.
So why?
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, forcing the chaos in my head under control.
There were several possible explanations for this.
But the most likely one was that...
My memories had been tampered with.
Whether I liked it or not, regaining my past-life memories at the exact moment my life was threatened wasn’t a coincidence... I never believed in coincidences anyway.
And there was also that blank space in my mind before the age of seven in this life.
The more I thought about it, the more realistic this possibility became.
And whatever had done this had deliberately left these flaws in my memories.
Or maybe I had simply forgotten...
Who knows.
I ignored their worried words and stood up from the chair. I wanted to leave this place... staying here with these incomplete versions wasn’t something I desired.
I walked toward the cooking utensils."Maybe you were the only thing I truly loved in my life... whether in the past or the present."
My sister laughed."Hahaha... have you been watching stupid drama shows lately?"
I extended my hand and picked up a long, sharp knife.
"Maybe my mind doesn’t remember you... but my heart does."
When they saw that, their expressions stiffened, and my father asked,"What are you doing, my son?" His tone was filled with concern.
"And I’m certain these feelings... are real."
I looked at them one by one, then at the knife in my hand."But you’ve been gone for a long time... and you left me alone."
The voices around me faded as I stared at the blade...
"Whether in the past or the present, I still have to move forward... without stopping... even in front of your incomplete versions."
"I won’t stop."
With those words, I erased any remaining traces of emotion within me... just like I always did in that laboratory.
My hand moved swiftly toward the closest person to me... my sister.
I felt the knife slice through flesh and bone as warm, sticky blood splashed onto my hand... the sensation was far too real, more than I had expected.
I didn’t slow down. In the next moment, I moved toward my mother... or the foggy dream version, and cut her down, then did the same to my father.
It took a single second for three bodies to collapse onto the floor, warm blood washing over my hands.
I took a deep breath and remained calm... not thinking about it, waiting for the dream to collapse.
And it did.
Moments later, cracks began spreading everywhere—across the walls, the ceiling, and even the three bodies.
Then, in the next instant, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass, the world around me broke apart and faded into nothingness.
I stood in an endless black void.
Without delay, essence surged through my body—or whatever form I was in now—and I activated my ability.
Because in front of me was a creature that looked as though it had escaped from someone’s nightmare.
It was a sphere of red flesh, purple fluids leaking from its surface everywhere, with dozens of fleshy tentacles attached to it, spreading in all directions, each several meters long.
I could see countless threads of purple light emerging from the flesh sphere, shooting out in every direction before fading into the void.
One of them was directly connected to my chest... this thing was draining my life right now.
Perhaps after a few days in the real world, I would become nothing more than an empty corpse.
And as if things weren’t grotesque enough, in the next moment, numerous eyelids scattered across the flesh sphere opened, revealing dozens of eyes staring straight at me.
It was true that I had seen this in the game—but it was still too much.
This was the Demon of Dreams, in all its defiled glory.