The lich's bones creaked like ancient trees in a storm as it turned to face Seven. Its hollow eyes flickered, the blue flames within dimming to a smolder. When it spoke, its voice was quieter than before, the edges of its words frayed.
"Truly, I am angered, now that I ponder it." The lich's skeletal fingers twitched, claws scraping against the stone beneath them. "Your memories… they struck me deep. These feelings return. I had forgotten what it was like—this fire in the marrow, this… pain."
It gestured toward the horizon, where the ruins dissolved into ash. "In my solitude, I built walls in my mind. Etched spells into bone to dull the ages. But now?" A bitter laugh rattled from its ribs. "Your light melted them all. The hope of a new world… it taunts me. My time is lost. So yes, I was… angered. But fret not, little chimera. Or Seven."
The lich's tone hardened, cold as winter iron. "Enough. Speak the first thought in your mind. We shall act on it."
Seven blinked. His stomach growled before his mouth could form words.
"Umm… I want to eat something."
The lich went still. For a heartbeat, Seven wondered if he'd erred. Then the creature tilted its skull back and loosed a rasping chuckle, like wind through dead branches.
"Ah. How could I forget?" Its voice softened, almost mournful. "Mortals need food. It has been… so long." Its gaze drifted upward, as if chasing a half-remembered star. After a silence, it clacked its jaw. "We hunt. I once knew… something of cooking."
They wandered the skeletal remains of a forest, petrified trees clawing at the sky. The lich moved with predatory grace, its tattered robes blending with the shadows. Seven trailed behind, his mind adrift until a question struck him.
"Wait," he said, digging into his pocket. "That fire in the underground room, the one that wouldn't die. You saw my memories. Why?"
The lich paused, bone fingers resting against a tree fossil. "The mana. That place brimmed with it, far beyond nature's flow. I meant to seek its source, but then…" It glanced at Seven, flames flaring. "A greater mystery appeared. A living human. In flesh."
Seven pulled the crystal from his pocket, the one he'd taken from the glowing room in his dreams. It pulsed faintly, casting amber light across the lich's bones.
"What of this?"
The lich recoiled. "What is this? Where did you found this"
"A glowing room. I found this before waking here."
"Glowing room?" The lich leaned closer, voice a whisper. "I saw no such thing in your thoughts. Show me."
Seven closed his eyes. The image surged forth, warm light, a hum of energy, the contours of the room sharpening in his mind: walls pulsing with amber veins, a vaulted ceiling alive with engraved glyphs. When he opened his eyes, the lich clutched its skull, flames thrashing.
"This… was hidden from me," it hissed. "Your mind has gaps. Or something cloaks the truth."
Before Seven could reply, the lich stiffened. Its head snapped east. "Food first. Answers after."
**
The beast was a mangled thing, part boar, part shadow, eyes glowing sickly green. The lich slew it with a flick of its wrist, dark magic unraveling its essence. As they gathered petrified wood (burning with violet flames), Seven watched the lich gut the creature.
"You've done this before," he said.
"Once," the lich replied, voice distant. "For another." It spoke no more.
The meat tasted of ash and ozone, but Seven devoured it. The lich stared into the fire, skeletal face unreadable.
"That crystal," it said suddenly. "It is a key. Or a snare. It binds to the room your mind concealed." Its claws twitched. "We shall find that place. Tear its secrets loose."
"The glowing room aside, first we will investigate your dream. I want to know more about that place, the world you dream of. It is no ordinary vision. The hum, the lights, the air… it reeks of a realm beyond this one. A place where the rules of flesh and bone may not apply."
Seven frowned. "Are Dreams real?"
"Real?" The lich's voice dripped with disdain. "Reality is a fragile concept. What matters is that it exists, even if only in your mind. And if it exists, it can be unraveled." Its claws twitched, as if already eager to tear into the fabric of the dream. "Now, sleep. I will be watching."
**
That night, Seven dreamed again of Earth, not some fractured imitation, but the real neighborhood where he'd lived before the disaster took his parents.
Every cracked sidewalk tile matched his childhood memories - the liquor store with its flickering neon owl sign, the park bench where Mom once scolded him for licking frozen metal.
His feet moved before his mind caught up, carrying him past the 7-Eleven where Dad bought him first Slurpee, around the corner where bike handlebars still bore his teeth marks from that crash in '08. When he saw their peeling blue porch, he ran.
The smell of sizzling galbi slapped him before he reached the door. His throat clenched. That was Mom's marinade - sesame oil and pear juice, the recipe she'd...
He lunged for the knob.
Thud.
Forehead stinging, hands scrabbling at nothing. An invisible barrier hummed where the doorway should be, vibrating his fillings.
"No. No!" Seven slammed his palms against the air, each impact sending prismatic ripples across the unseen wall.
Through the warping haze, he saw the kitchen - apron strings dangling from a hook she'd painted like a daisy stem, Dad's stupid 'Kiss the Chef' mug steaming on the counter.
The crystal in his pocket flared hot enough to blister.
Seven didn't care. He kept pounding until his hands bled, screaming curses at the shimmering void.
Not at the dream, not at the wall - at the universe itself, its brutal, exquisite timing. To dangle this memory now? After taking everything? After making him forget her voice until this cruel pantomime reminded him?
Green light from the microwave clock washed over him as the dream dissolved. He woke gripping the crystal so tight it etched permanent lines into his palm."