The night stretched on as the moonlight casts silver hues over the quiet room. Umbra sat beside the wide window, bathed in the pale glow.
Earlier, they had been fortunate— Duke Vein had extended his hospitality, offering them refuge in the Vein household. Together with the child he saved, they shared the same room as a guest of the grand manor.
His gaze shifted towards the sleeping child. Dark green hair with a small, delicate face, breathing steady and deep in his sleep.
A child, so young. Yet, he had experienced a Nightmare.
Umbra exhaled softly as he was replaying in his mind the memories he had glimpse upon defeating the Nightmare.
Two children. One standing in defiance. The other, trembling in fear.
He was certain now— the one cowering in terror was the child lying before him.
A bitter smile crossed his lips
"I think I have become too sensitive after seeing so many of these memories."
He took a slow sip of the tea however, the warmth barely reached him.
The child's suffering must have a deeper story. After all, the Curse of Nightmares does not take root in the hopeless.
It starts with those who dream. The moment that dream shatters, despair consumes them whole, birthing a darkness that devours them from the inside.
Umbra clenched his fist and returned his haze towards the moonlit sky.
"Someone is trying to manipulate the curse."
What happened earlier was a case of anomaly. The descending of the Nightmare had been unnaturally fast. It was far beyond what should have been possible.
Only one thought crosses Umbra's mind. Someone was pulling the strings.
A shadow of conviction settled over his face. Umbra curled his lips to a sharp grin, though there were no signs of joy behind it.
"I won't let you have your way." Umbra said as he carried the weight of the challenge. "If this is your provocation… I will answer it."
...
Sunlight streamed through the large window near Vicente's room as the morning arrived. The golden light refracted against the glass, with its warmth brushing over his face, stirring him from sleep.
Even as he awoke, the events last night lingered vividly in his mind. Excitement still coursed through him—mixed with astonishment at what he had witnessed, at things he had yet to fully understand.
"The world truly has many things to offer."
But it was not just Umbra's abilities that occupied his thoughts. Other people were there too. Duke Vein, with his commanding presence; Charles Vein, reckless yet formidable; Umbra, the force that fought the logic of the world's system.
A smile tugged at Vicente's lips as he thought about those three eccentric men.
Still… a nagging feeling weighed him.
He had been helpless last night.
He was a Dreamer. A being tasked with dealing with those afflicted by the Nightmare curse. Yet, when the time had come, he had done little.
Dreamers were meant to eradicate Nightmares. That was their purpose. But even if he chose not to kill, shouldn't he have done more?
Umbra who dealt with the curse.
Charles who fought the Dreamer.
Duke Vein who shoulders the aftermath of the event last night.
If Umbra had fought alone, Charles could have still stalled the Dreamer, and things might have unfolded the same way. His presence had changed nothing.
He clenched his fist.
"I will do better next time
It was a conviction, but also an acknowledgement of the gnawing doubt within him.
Then—
"You are the reason the boy was saved yesterday, Vicente. If you had not separated me from Charles, things would have taken a different path."
The words struck him the moment he stepped into the office of Duke Vein. He was called earlier as he woke up.
Vicente froze, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the speaker—Umbra, his dark curtained mullet-like hair casting shadows over his sharp features. His pupils were so dark, so abyssal, that looking into them felt like being pulled into a void.
Umbra's expression was unreadable, but his voice carried weight.
Vicente processed the words, and slowly, a chuckle escaped his lips.
Of all things, Umbra was thanking him.
And he was clearly uncomfortable about it.
The sight of Umbra, bashfully acknowledging his role, amused Vicente. It was unlike him, and strangely enough, it eased the doubts Vicente had carried moments before.
But Umbra's gaze darkened instantly.
Disgust.
A cold glare. A look of sheer contempt.
Vicente straightened, hastily suppressing his amusement. He had clearly overstayed his welcome at that moment.
Shifting his focus, he took in the rest of the room.
Seated around the space were familiar faces—Duke Vein, as composed as ever. Umbra, now brooding. And the child, the one who had been suffering from the Nightmare's descent.
The boy sat quietly, detached, with his expression unreadable. He didn't meet anyone's eyes.
Guilt.
Vicente recognized it instantly.
The child must have felt burdened by last night's events.
And Vicente understood that feeling all too well.
"Now that Vicente is here, why don't we discuss last evening's events?"
Duke Vein said as he looked at the people seated before him. It was clear he had been expecting this conversation.
There was one variable present in the event that was left out from this conversation. It was Charles Vein. Vicente could understand Duke's intention seeing Umbra in front of him.
With that said, Vicente settled into his seat across from the Duke.
Umbra's piercing gaze locked onto the Duke, filled with sheer contempt.
"Discuss?" he echoed, his tone sharp and biting. "Coming from the father of the man who almost got this child killed?"
It was clear that Umbra was not happy.
Despite his reluctant appreciation for the Duke's assistance, one fact remained: the event could have been easily solved.
If a certain someone had not recklessly chased— if Charles Vein had not pursued the savior of the cursed child— the situation never would have escalated the way it did.
Yet, in the face of Umbra's arguments, Duke Vein was composed. The ever-present smile on his lips did not waver.
"But, Umbra, if he was not there, who would have stopped that dreamer?"
Vicente opened his mouth, ready to interject, but stopped himself when he saw Umbra's expression.
Umbra didn't acknowledge the question. He didn't so much as glance at Vicente.
His glare remained locked onto the Duke—a silent condemnation.
This was a matter of perspective, of arguments and logic.
Umbra had thought that if he had arrived on time, the Dreamer never would have set foot inside that place. If he had stopped the source, none of this would have happened
Still, Duke Vein let out a small chuckle, as if amused by the tension in the room. "He was an idiot, for sure. But tell me— if he hadn't interfered, do you really think the child wouldn't have undergone the Nightmare's descent anyway?"
Vicente tensed.
Nightmare's Descent.
The moment the nightmare fully devours its host.
When an afflicted individual ceases to be human and transforms into horror incarnate
Last night, the child… had been gone. In his place stood a dark, twisted figure, grotesque beyond reason. Unnaturally long, thin arm jutted from its back, curling eerily in the air. Two more extended from its sides, moving with unnatural fluidity. The sheer wrongness of its form made Vicente's skin crawl.
"Also…" He spoke deliberately, his voice slow and measured. "Do you really think the Dreamer wasn't in league with whoever orchestrated this anomaly?"
Vicente's eyes widened slightly. He was in a state of confusion. But when he turned to Umbra, he saw Umbra's expression unfazed.
No surprise. No confusion.
Because he had already considered it. It was the thought he had come up with last night.
Umbra had known from the start that last night's events were unnatural. The Nightmare's descent had happened too quickly—far faster than should have been possible.
A Nightmare is only born when a person's despair reaches its breaking point, when their shattered dreams leave them open to corruption.
So how did it happen instantly?
Unless…
Unless someone had forced it.
Unless someone had deliberately manipulated the Curse itself.
Duke Vein and Umbra had come to the same conclusion.
But Umbra wasn't so easily swayed. He remained still, silent—watching, calculating.
The air in the room thickened.
Then—
"I apologize for my child's actions."
The Duke's voice was light, almost casual.
"And that is precisely one of the reasons I called the three of you here."
Vicente frowned. "What do you mean?"
The Duke leaned back slightly, his smirk deepening. "I planned to bring this up later, so let us continue discussing last night first."
Then, as if amused, he added—
"I will make sure to prevent a fight between Umbra and Charles."
For the first time since the meeting began—
Umbra hesitated.
Because that suggestion was music to his ears.
...
With the atmosphere still laced with tension, the Duke wasted no time shifting the conversation forward.
"Child, I conducted some research on you after last night, and I found something rather… confusing."
The Duke's gaze landed on the boy—Nilan Pavo—who had remained silent up until now. He placed a report on the table.
A single sheet of paper. Thin—almost empty. Too little information for someone who had lived twelve years in this world.
The Duke had started his investigation the moment the night's events had settled. While no one else had been paying attention, he had gathered what little information was available about the child.
Nilan Pavo. Male. Age 12. Arrived at Pavo Orphanage a day ago. Had no surname. No memories of his life before the orphanage.
That was all.
Vicente's eyes widened in shock. "That is it?"
The lack of records of Nilan's history was beyond suspicious.
Umbra, however, remained unfazed. He had already expected this. After all, he had seen inside the child's dream. And, there was almost nothing there.
At least for an hour, that child had been on the verge of being devoured by his Nightmare. Not because he was weak—but because he had almost no dreams left to fight back.
"He has only a few dreams. That is why the Nightmare could so easily consume him."
Vicente's brows furrowed upon hearing this. "What?"
Few dreams? How could a child—a person—lack dreams? Before Vicente could dwell on it further, Duke Vein turned to Nilan.
"Now then, let us hear from the victim himself."
All eyes landed on the boy. Nilan shifted slightly in his seat, fingers curling into his sleeves. Not out of pressure, but fear.
Still, he spoke.
"I arrived at the orphanage a few days ago… but I don't remember anything before that. I just woke up knowing how to read and write like the others." His voice was quiet, yet steady and continued. "But… even now, I can't recall why I was so sad yesterday."
A pause.
"Aren't you glad that you could forget that nightmare last night?"
Umbra's voice cut through the air. For a moment, Nilan was silent.
Then—
"I guess I should be… but, I want to remember."
Umbra clicked his tongue in irritation. The nightmare had nearly consumed him and yet, he wanted to remember it?
[Nightmares were born from dreams to begin with.]
Ridiculous.
Umbra turned away, clearly annoyed. He truly did hate Nightmares.
"Strange."
Duke Vein leaned back in thought, his fingers tapping against the table.
"Memory loss?"
The idea made sense. If the boy hadn't lost his memories, his dreams would still be intact.
Umbra crossed his arms. "That seems to be the case. I entered his dream realm... and I only saw one. And, judging from the time wasted, the nightmare could only have gotten at most three at that time."
His tone was laced with frustration.
"Dreams are formed through cognition. They are shaped by memory, perception, and desire."
He paused.
"If someone loses their memories, their dreams disappear too."
And once a dream is lost, it is gone forever. Memories might return one day. But the dreams connected to them? Never.
Duke Vein let out a soft chuckle.
"That aligns with an old theory by the imperial scientist Hualaitis. He believed the mind and dreams were irrevocably linked."
A brief silence passed.
Then, with a small smile, the Duke added—
"He would have been fascinated by this case… if only he had lived for centuries."
…
"How about trying to gather his memories? Maybe that'll help?"
Vicente's suggestion was uncertain, but in a situation as mysterious as this, what else could they do? If they could dig deeper into Nilan's past, perhaps they would find answers.
"Help?" Umbra's tone, who seemed confused, was sharp. "Help from what?"
Vicente met his piercing gaze. "Saving humanity, of course."
The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted.
Umbra's expression twisted. A deep, burning rage flickered in his eyes, something Vicente couldn't quite understand—until a mass of darkness materialized in Umbra's hands, twisting and curling into a scythe. Before Vicente could react, the blade was hovering at his throat.
"Saving humanity?" Umbra's voice dripped with venom. "How ridiculous."
Vicente felt the weight of his fury pressing down on him. Why?
Umbra's voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"Dreamers —who claim Nightmares as their own—who think it is their right to exterminate them as they please. Do you even understand the weight of what you're saying?"
Vicente's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? We never—"
Vicente's words were cut off as he remembered one question.
Who decided that the one who should deal with nightmares are the dreamers?
It wasn't written in history. It had simply become a belief. Each time a Nightmare tried to descend, Dreamers claimed the right to exterminate it.
Not humanity. Dreamers.
And yet—wasn't that because humans couldn't fight Nightmares themselves? Wouldn't they lose their sanity trying to kill their own kind?
Still…
Claiming Nightmares as their burden to bear… treating them as theirs to kill…
Something about that felt… wrong. Vicente's expression darkened as the realization sank in.
Even so—one question lingered in his mind. "Then, why did you let me be part of the rescuing yesterday?"
"Can you clearly not tell? There was no choice." The words that left Umbra's mouth was as cold as ice. "I felt disgusted with the way you celebrated last night."
He was completely twisted. But, it wasn't that Vicente could blame him. He had the logic to think that through.
A choice to save humanity.
A choice?
Without doubt, Vicente showed firmness and clenched his fists.
"Rejection and Acceptance."
Umbra's eyes norrowed. He could not comprehend. Was he trying to comment on his words?
No.
It was the very life of a dreamer.
"That is my ability as a Dreamer." Vicente's voice was unwavering. "I call it that. It allows me to reject or accept certain phenomena. I'll explain more later."
A Dreamer's ability wasn't something shared lightly. It was their greatest secret. To reveal it was to invite vulnerability. To give an enemy the chance to counter it. For Vicente to say this now…
It meant one thing.
He wanted them to trust him.
Duke Vein's gaze softened in understanding.
Umbra, however, remained unmoved. His voice was cold, skeptical. "What kind of scheme are you planning?
Umbra was someone who never trusts.
Vicente felt he could understand Umbra a little.
I wonder if that eye, full of contempt, that is directed to me is that all there is.
Vicente held his gaze. "I am not scheming. I told you. I want to help humanity."
For a moment, Umbra stared at him.
Then—
He burst into laughter.
"Got you."
"Eh?"
"It was all an act. From the start, I knew you were serious about it."
Vicente's expression twisted in disbelief. He had been deceived. A vein popped in his forehead as he glared at Umbra, who was still laughing.
"You—!"
He lunged at him, but Umbra only dodged effortlessly. The amusement was flickering in his eyes.