The air shimmered faintly, and Forreal blinked—or rather, she would have if her eyes weren't perpetually closed. One moment they were standing atop the skyscraper, and the next, she was in a place that could only be described as otherworldly.
The room was serene, with an almost meditative stillness that contrasted starkly with the view they had just left behind.
It was an oriental house, spacious yet humble. Paper-thin shoji walls framed the space, their wooden lattices casting soft, rhythmic shadows on the tatami mats below. A faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air, and a single hanging lantern illuminated the room with a warm, amber glow.
A low table sat at the center of the room, its surface polished to a mirror-like sheen. Surrounding it were neatly arranged cushions, and in the far corner, a delicate bonsai tree rested on a small pedestal, its gnarled branches frozen in perfect artistry.
Forreal stepped cautiously onto the tatami mat, her senses heightened. There was something here—a faint trace of black magic. Not as overwhelming as Surreal's, but undeniably present.
She turned to him, her voice low. "This place… it feels off. Why are we here?"
Surreal didn't answer immediately. Instead, he moved toward the center of the room, his steps as light as the wind. "You're becoming more perceptive," he remarked. "Good. You'll need that."
"For what?"
"Everything," he said cryptically, kneeling down on one of the cushions.
Before Forreal could press further, her attention was drawn to the figure sitting cross-legged on the far side of the room.
The woman's presence was striking, radiating an air of nobility and mystery. She wore an elegant, flowing dress in deep crimson and gold, its intricate patterns swirling like embers on silk. Her hair, long and silver, cascaded down her back, matching the ethereal sheen of Surreal's and Forreal's. Thick, lush white eyelashes framed eyes that remained closed, and her lightly tanned skin glowed faintly in the lantern's light.
Forreal froze, her breath catching. She looks just like us…
Before she could voice her thoughts, the woman's voice cut through the stillness—calm yet commanding, like a blade slicing through silk.
"Why have you come here?"
Her tone was firm, but there was a hint of trepidation, as if she already knew the answer but dreaded to hear it.
Surreal's serene expression shifted into something colder, his usual playful demeanor replaced by an emotionless facade. He rose slowly, his extra arms folding neatly behind him.
"Surreal."
The single word hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.
The woman's eyes snapped open at the sound, revealing pupils as clear and white as fresh snow. Her breath hitched, her composed exterior fracturing as shock washed over her face.
"You…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Surreal stepped closer, his tone bitter. "I'm home."
The woman's hands reached out instinctively, trembling as they extended toward him. Yet her gaze seemed to fall beyond him, as though she could see something that wasn't there—or perhaps, nothing at all.
She was blind.
Her voice wavered. "After all this time… you're here."
Forreal watched in stunned silence as the woman's fingers stopped just short of touching Surreal. She recoiled suddenly, her expression twisting into one of distress.
"You…" she said again, her voice breaking. "You've broken the law of satiety." Her emotions shifted rapidly, joy giving way to sadness, then anger, then despair. Tears brimmed at the corners of her unseeing eyes as she shook her head. "Do you even understand how much has been sacrificed for this power you flaunt so casually? Do you understand the weight of what you've done??"
Forreal, still trying to piece together the scene, turned to Surreal. "Who is she? What's going on here?"
Surreal glanced at her briefly before turning back to the woman. "This," he said casually, "Is the Nameless. She's someone who was ousted by our tribe, stripped of her name and identity…
"To me? She's my mother."
Forreal's mouth fell open. "Your mother?!"
"Exactly," Surreal interrupted. "She's your mother too, in a way. Or at least, she was before your spiritual portfolio was rewritten. Tell me, Forreal—have you ever wondered why you were an orphan in your world?"
Forreal's brow furrowed. "It still doesn't unsettle me that you appear to know every bits of my past."
"I already told you many times," Surreal said with a faint smirk, "Our timelines aren't all that different. The only real divergence is that I'm male, and you're female. Everything else? Practically identical."
The Nameless remained silent, her expression caught between confusion and sorrow as she listened to their exchange.
Surreal's tone grew more pointed. "But there's more to it, isn't there? Let me share a little truth—one that was carefully hidden from the tribe. Once, there was a woman named Sukowati. She was sterile."
"Stop!" the Nameless shouted, her voice laced with fury. "Do not speak that name!"
Surreal ignored her protest, his voice unwavering. "This woman, Sukowati, turned to black magic to conceive a child. That decision—her defiance of natural law—ultimately led to her banishment."
The Nameless trembled, her hands clenched into fists.
Forreal, now completely overwhelmed, took a step back. "And you're telling me… this Sukowati is…?"
"My mother," Surreal confirmed, his expression unreadable. "And yours too, after a fashion."
Everything felt a little bit too sudden.
Forreal, as Surreal said, had always been orphaned and deemed as one when she was still living with her people.
The amount of jealousy that was hiding in her heart when she saw a proper and happy family, the childish wish to have someone to guide her and teach her how the world works, and scold her when she did something wrong so that she didn't inconvenience others.
But out of all of that, she only wanted to know the warmth of a hug, or someone assuring her that everything will be okay.
The Nameless took a deep breath, regaining her composure. Her voice was steady once more as she addressed Surreal. "You didn't come here for a reunion. What is it you want?"
Surreal's smile returned, cold and detached. "To put you out of your misery."
Forreal's eyes widened. After realizing who the Nameless was, there was a crumbling emotion that was dwelling inside her, unwilling to let it go. "What?! She's your mother! And to an extent, my mother!"
Surreal didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the Nameless.
Forreal stepped forward, her voice rising. She wanted to rationalize Surreal's action, but she was also fighting with her own heart. "Is that future really that grim…? What happened to you before this? What kind of horror have you been through to make you this… cold? This heartless? She's the only connection we have to… to family! And now, she is the only family that you have!"
Still, Surreal said nothing.
The Nameless smiled faintly, her expression softening into something almost maternal. "It's alright," she said, her voice calm. Like a swan who saw her young gaze into the distant sunset, she knew that she needed to let her child go. "If this is the path you've chosen, then so be it…
"But know this, my child—after my death, no matter where you go, I will haunt you. I will reside in the cold fireside corner of your heart, as I restrain the embers of your agony from those who dare to use it for their own selfishness.
"I shall be there in your fool's gold soul, chipping away the false shine—so that only your worth shall remain."
Hearing those words, a genuine smile appeared on Surreal's face.
"That works for me."
Surreal raised a hand, dark energy pooling in his palm. The room grew dim, the air heavy with an oppressive force.
Then, rapturing light emerged.
The Nameless's body began to crumble, her form dissolving into fragments of light and shadow. She met Surreal's gaze—or what would have been his gaze—with unwavering conviction.
Her lips seemed to spell a sentence unspoken.
And then, she was gone.
Forreal fell to her knees, her stomach churning as nausea overtook her.
Surreal turned to Forreal, placing a hand on her shoulder. His face was lined with a bitterness that seemed almost foreign to him. "This was the least painful way," he said quietly.
He exited the house without another word.
Forreal stumbled to her feet, her heart heavy as she followed him outside.
"This place is…"
The truth of their location hit her like a blow. The oriental house was perched on a floating piece of land, surrounded by a twisting, maddening void that seemed to stretch into infinity.
Surreal spoke without looking back. "This void… it's consuming everything. Even souls. She didn't have much time left." He paused, glancing over his shoulder. "I gave her a quick death—a human death, to reserve her soul in its most lively state, instead of the natural cause where her soul would crumble alongside her weary heart and body."
"... What happened to her soul?"
"You heard what she said. I don't even need to use my power as the vessel of a Psycheweave Engine."
"I see…"
Both of them went into silence.
Forreal's mind branched and converged into a storm of emotions as she stared into the maddening void.