The method we used to escape what I’ve been calling “the dream” turned out, to my surprise, to be far simpler than I ever could have imagined. Of course, I wasn’t exactly the one who got us out of there — and, thinking about it now, maybe that explains why it worked so well.
It didn’t take me long to realize that leaving that place could be a serious problem, and my first instinct was to go with the most obvious solution: try to shatter the dream itself by force. But before I could put my plan into action, Eryanis — with that calm, composed expression she always seems to wear — raised her hand and stopped me.
She told me, in her quiet, steady voice, that brute force wouldn’t be necessary. For a moment, I felt like she was the real adult between us, not me. It’s strange... in moments like that, I wonder who’s really the one carrying the weight of experience. I let out a breath, pushed away my darker thoughts and impulsive urges, and decided to hear her out.
Eryanis tried to explain the process of leaving that place to me with the patience of an experienced teacher, choosing every word as though she wanted to make sure I understood even the smallest details. Still, no matter how hard I tried, all I could do was stare back at her with my usual blank expression. Or rather — moments like that make me truly grateful to have a face that can’t betray my emotions.
Lost in my own thoughts, I almost didn’t notice when Eryanis’s voice cut through them — sharp and clear, like the ring of a bell: “Did you understand, dear sister?” she asked again, her eyes glinting with curiosity, as though testing whether I had really been paying attention.
I stared at her face for a moment. Her expression... no matter the angle, it seemed to radiate a serene, almost hypnotic light. For a fleeting moment, I thought about just telling her the truth — admitting that I hadn’t understood a single thing she’d just said. It wasn’t because I was stupid or hadn’t been listening — far from it.
The problem was deeper than it seemed. According to Eryanis, while each virtue has its own authority — a unique power that defines it — they all share something in common: a minimal degree of control over reality itself. As if each of them, in some way, had the ability to touch the fabric of the world and shape it, even if only subtly and in small ways.
For a moment, I seriously considered telling her the truth — once and for all. But... something in her expression made me hesitate. There was a softness in her gaze, almost a quiet expectation, that made me feel she would be genuinely sad if I admitted that I hadn’t understood a word she’d said.
And, of course, there was also my own reputation to protect. So, the next second, I started nodding up and down with so much enthusiasm I probably looked like a lunatic agreeing with the entire universe. Seeing this, Eryanis smiled — a wide, genuine smile that lit up her face in a way that was almost childlike. For a brief moment, all my guilt just... evaporated.
A barely-there thought crossed my mind as I watched the joy on Eryanis’s face: (Well, I guess there’s nothing else to do. As the older brother, it’s my job to make sure my little sisters always have a reason to smile... and, in the end, I do have a certain reputation to keep)
With that thought clear and my determination burning inside me, my next action was almost instinctive. I turned to Eryanis — who was still watching me with that enigmatic smile, as if she already knew exactly what I was about to say — and, without hesitation, sent her my thoughts: (So? What do you think? Can you get us out of here, Eryanis?)
Eryanis stared at me in silence for a moment, her huge single-colored eyes blinking slowly, almost as if she was processing my words. Then, a soft smile formed on her lips, lighting up her face in a way that was almost childlike: “Of course!” she replied, her voice full of such lighthearted enthusiasm it almost sounded cheerful.
She accepted my suggestion without a single question — which, to be honest, only made the weight of my guilt heavier. In the very next moment, she made a simple, almost casual gesture. Her hand lifted a few inches, as if pulled by an invisible string, and then she snapped her fingers. The sound that followed was not what I had expected.
Instead of a short, sharp snap, a high-pitched chime rang through the air, like the clear toll of a distant bell. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but there was something about its frequency — something I could almost feel on my skin, as though reality itself was vibrating in response.
The moment the sound reverberated through the space, a sharp crack split the air — and then the first fractures appeared. The “floor” the “sky” even the “horizon” itself began to break apart as though made of fragile glass. The sound of the spreading cracks echoed around us, shrill and almost painful to hear.
Within seconds, the reality around us was covered in jagged lines, branching out in chaotic patterns like giant spiderwebs. The cracks closed in until they swallowed us completely, wrapping both Eryanis and me in a cocoon of glowing fractures.
Then, in an almost silent instant, everything collapsed: the world shattered into countless fragments that dissolved into glowing particles, falling slowly around us like shimmering snow suspended in the air.
In the blink of an eye, everything changed. The infinite landscape, covered in dancing, colorful particles, vanished as though it had never existed. Eryanis and I now stood in a white, silent room, defined by smooth walls, ceiling, and floor — so plain it felt almost uncomfortable. For a few moments, I just stood there, turning my head slowly, taking in every corner.
The more I looked, the more certain I became: there was no mistake — we were back at the facility. The absence of cameras, observation windows, or any sign of human presence made me conclude that Laura, Emily, Victor, and Rupert probably had no idea we had returned yet.
I stood there for a while, lost in thought, my gaze fixed on nothing in particular, until a silvery glint caught my eye near the edge of my vision. It was Eryanis’s hair, glimmering softly as though it was catching a light only she could see. When I lifted my eyes, I found hers — curious, attentive — watching me in silence.
“Is something wrong, sister?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, her voice carrying genuine concern.
I looked at Eryanis, who kept watching me with that curious, almost questioning gaze for a few seconds. I sighed and gave a slight shake of my head, pushing away the thoughts that were gnawing at me.
Then, I reached out and placed my hand gently on her head, softly running my fingers through her hair. Though she still looked a bit confused, Eryanis slowly closed her eyes, like a satisfied kitten, tilting her head slightly to savor every second of the affection.
In any case, it’s true that some parts of what happened are still wrapped in fog — especially the fact that I saw Emily, Victor, Rupert, and Laura dead, each in a different way and under circumstances that defied any logic — but in the end, I know there’s nothing I can do about it. Even so, the words of my other self keep echoing in my head, insistently.
I’m not really sure what I was like before losing my memories. According to my sisters, I was probably someone responsible, respectable — someone worthy of admiration. But the current me is far from that. Honestly, I enjoy spending time locked away in my room, not worrying about much, just letting the days pass as I do absolutely nothing important.
But my other self’s words won’t leave my mind. Something about them tells me it would be a mistake to ignore them. I have this nagging feeling that if I get too comfortable with the way things are now, someday I’ll regret it — and it won’t be a small regret.
Thinking about all this made me let out a heavy sigh of frustration. Honestly, as I’ve said before, my amnesia can be irritatingly inconvenient — like my own mind is having fun at my expense.
Well, anyway, that’s a problem for future me. With that thought, I forced a crooked smile and sent my words to Eryanis: (Let’s get out of here)
Eryanis didn’t react to my words — just gave me a soft, serene nod, elegant as ever. In silence, she followed close behind me. Curiously, the aristocratic air she’d had when we first met seemed to have returned, as if that was her natural state and everything else had been just a momentary break from her usual composure.
Either way, we walked side by side toward the door leading to the facility’s main hallway. The moment my hand touched the door’s cold metal surface, an unexpected thought formed in my mind — a quiet whisper I couldn’t ignore. What exactly was this anomaly? According to Laura, it was nothing more than a cluster of light, so enigmatic that even the organization had no idea what it was meant to do — or why it existed.
And, to make matters worse, as soon as it was transported into this room, the light just disappeared — not in any dramatic way, but as if it had simply dissolved into the air, merging with the environment itself. What does that even mean? I have no idea. Laura, however, seemed convinced that the containment room itself had become the anomaly... or something very close to it.
I thought about that for a moment before turning around, my hand still resting on the cold metal that seemed to drain the warmth from my skin. At my side, Eryanis noticed my hesitation and watched me silently, a curious glint in her eyes.
My gaze swept the room slowly, and, as I had suspected, there was no sign of any cluster of light — just an empty, silent space, so still it made the air feel heavy. I gently closed my eyes — maybe hoping that when I opened them, something would have changed. But when I opened them again, my vision seemed to fold strangely, as though the world had been turned inside out.
No matter where I looked, there was nothing: no vibrant colors, no sound, no sign of movement that suggested anything there was still “alive” It was a suffocating void, almost hostile in its neutrality. In short, that place was just that: a dead, inert space, with no story to tell.
For a moment, a knot of confusion twisted in my mind — why was there nothing there? The void almost felt like it was mocking me. My eyes instinctively shifted to Eryanis, who was still watching me closely, as though studying every reaction: (Was this Eryanis’s doing?)
Honestly, it was a pretty plausible theory. I don’t know exactly what Eryanis did, but whatever it was, it had definitely been fatal to the anomaly that had trapped us in that dream.
What’s most curious, though, is that I can remember every detail of what happened in there — every sound, every sensation, as though it was all still etched into my skin. Still, thinking about it, maybe that’s not the strangest part, given the bizarre situations I’ve been through before.
But is it because I’m an anomaly myself? Would that alone make me immune to its effects? Honestly, even I have trouble believing in such a shallow explanation. So why didn’t it work on me? The answer is simple... and arrogant. I’m far stronger than that anomaly. Strong enough that its influence simply shattered when it tried to reach me.
... well, if it wasn’t that, I really can’t think of any other reason. I mean, normally, in situations like this, it all comes down to strength, right? Maybe I really do have more mental strength than I thought... I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and in the middle of all the tension, a single thought crossed my mind, clear as day: (I just want to laze around... and eat some ice cream)