CHAPTER 131: CHAPTER 131 - WAS IT ALL A DREAM?

Luca’s eyes snapped open.

The first thing he saw was darkness — not the comforting kind, but the heavy, suffocating sort that seemed to cling to his skin. The only light came from his computer screen, its cold glow spilling across the cluttered desk and dusty corners of his small, familiar room.

His breath hitched. No... this... this can’t be...

The hum of the computer fan filled the silence, oddly loud in the stillness. The game’s end credits scrolled lazily, the bold words You Got a Bad Ending glaring back at him like an accusation.

His lips trembled as he whispered, "Was that... all a dream? Was I never transported?"

He shoved the blanket aside and stumbled to his feet, bare toes curling against the familiar worn carpet. Sweat gathered on his forehead, trickling down his temple. His breathing grew rapid as he crossed the room, each step feeling heavier than the last.

The mirror stood there — tall, unyielding.

And staring back at him... wasn’t Luca.

It was him.

Kian. His real face.

A sudden voice, cold and sharp enough to make his shoulders flinch, broke the silence.

"So this is your real face?"

Luca whirled around so fast his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

Vincent stood a few feet away, his posture stiff, his hands clenched at his sides. But it was his eyes — icy, piercing — that froze Luca in place.

"I... what’s happening? Brother—"

"Don’t call me brother."

Vincent’s voice was low, steady, but it hit like a blade between the ribs.

"You are not my brother."

Luca’s stomach dropped. "No... no, that’s not true—"

"You deceived me... your best friend?"

The words came from his left. Luca turned sharply to see Eric stepping out from the shadows.

Eric’s expression was unreadable, but the slight tightening around his mouth, the faint furrow between his brows, made Luca’s chest ache. His eyes were fixed on him like one would on a stranger.

"Who are you? You’re not my friend, Luca."

"I am! Eric, I—"

"Who are you? You must be some bad guy..."

This time it was Lilliane’s voice, laced with scorn. Her hands were folded across her chest, her chin tilted upward in quiet defiance.

"Hmph, that’s why you told me I needed more friends besides Aiden."

Luca took a step toward her, desperation clawing up his throat. "No, Lilliane, that’s not—"

Aiden’s voice cut like a whip.

"Don’t call her by her name."

Behind him, the air grew tense — a weight pressing against his spine. He turned slowly.

A tall, white-haired woman stood there, a veil obscuring most of her face. Still, the slight tightening at the corners of her hidden mouth was enough to make his breath falter.

"So all those things you told me... they weren’t even yours. Did you just trick me to gain my sympathy?"

Luca’s hands trembled. He stepped forward, shaking his head violently. "No! Of course not, Master... at least you believe me—"

"Don’t believe him, Mom. He’s just deceiving all of us."

A younger girl with the same white hair stepped out from behind her, her eyes colder than any blade.

"Selena...?" His voice cracked, pleading.

"Mom, Dad, he is not brother. He doesn’t deserve our love."

Luca’s eyes darted toward his parents — the ones who had always smiled warmly at him. But now... now their faces were stone. Their gaze held no recognition, no softness.

"Lisa... Mom... Dad... it’s me... we’re family—"

His voice broke into a sob, his vision blurring as fresh tears burned his eyes.

Another voice came, low and sharp.

"Brother-in-law?"

"Kyle?" His voice was half hope, half fear.

Kyle’s mouth curved into something between pity and disdain.

"Do you think I would call someone like you my brother-in-law?"

But Luca’s eyes slid past him... and locked on her.

"Aurelia..." His lips quivered. "You believe me, right? At least you—"

She met his gaze.

Her eyes were unreadable.

Empty.

And in that emptiness, there was no warmth, no trust... nothing that said she had ever cared.

The walls seemed to close in as voices erupted from every direction, overlapping, drilling into his skull:

You are not my brother.

You deceived us.

You don’t deserve to be my friend.

You sympathy seeker.

You are not our son.

Luca staggered back, clutching his head. His knees buckled. His breath came in ragged gasps.

"NO! NO! NO!" His scream tore through the darkness, but no one flinched. No one reached for him.

Luca’s eyes snapped open.

For a heartbeat, he expected darkness—the suffocating black of that room, the cold glow of the computer screen, the accusing voices pressing in from every side.

But instead... light.

So much light that his pupils shrank to pinpricks.

A warm breeze whispered across his face. The smell of grass and sun-dried earth filled his lungs.

He lay still, almost afraid to move, his body trembling with leftover adrenaline. Slowly, his fingertips curled into the soil beneath him—warm, real, alive. He pushed himself upright, blinking against the blinding blue sky above.

It was too bright. Too peaceful. It felt wrong after what he’d just endured.

Then he saw her.

Celestia stood a few paces ahead, her back to him, golden hair dancing in the wind like threads of sunlight. The long fall of it swayed gently, catching the light in glints of fire.

She turned her head slightly, one sharp, clear eye catching his.

"Time you woke up."

Luca’s breath hitched. He didn’t answer—couldn’t. His mind was still shackled to the nightmare, to the sting of betrayal in every voice, the cold dismissal in every gaze.

So... all of that was a dream?

He let out a slow, shaky breath, only now realizing how long he’d been holding it in. His chest loosened slightly.

Thank the goddess...

But then—

A ripple of doubt.

What if it wasn’t just a dream? What if that... was real?

The images clawed back in—Vincent’s cold stare, Eric’s unfamiliar eyes, Aurelia’s empty gaze. His throat tightened, the phantom weight of tears burning at the edges of his vision.

If it had been real... then every smile, every bond, every shred of warmth had been a lie.

His stomach knotted. He pressed a palm to his face, trying to push the thought away, but it clung stubbornly.

"Hey." Celestia’s voice snapped through the haze, sharper this time. "What are you thinking about? Get up quickly—we don’t know how long we can stay here."

He gave his head a quick, almost violent shake. Right. Just a dream. Nothing more.

But another thought slammed into him. His gaze darted around—the endless grassland, the clear sky—

Wait... how the hell did we end up here?

As he remembered how Celestia had jumped with him into that horrifying darkness of the corrupted mana hurricane.

He got to his feet and closed the distance between them, irritation prickling under his skin.

"Are you crazy or what? Is that how you handle things? What if it hadn’t worked? We could’ve both died!"

Celestia turned just enough to give him a sidelong glance, lips pressed thin. "It worked out, didn’t it? Why dwell on it? We have more important matters to deal with."

She didn’t say anything about him calling her crazy as she was aware of what she had done, if they were outside instead, Luca may have died thousand death by now.

"You—!" he started, frustration burning in his tone, but swallowed the rest and followed her stride.

Still, his curiosity refused to be silenced. "So... we really are seeing the vision from seven thousand years ago? And how are you even here with me?"

"Yes," she said without slowing. "We should be seven thousand years in the past. As for how I’m here... that’s complicated."

"Try me," he challenged.

Her brows lifted a fraction before she sighed, finally turning to face him. "Your ability sends you through a time–space tunnel. Literally traveling back in time."

Luca blinked. "Wait... so I’m not seeing visions at all? I’m actually traveling through time and space?"

A single nod.

"Then... What about when I was inside Emeron’s body? How is that possible?"

"You’re too weak to survive the tunnel physically," she replied matter-of-factly. "Your body would be destroyed instantly. So instinctively, your soul—your spirit—travels instead. In that case, it entered Emeron’s body. Sometimes you witness events in third person, sometimes in first. That’s why you thought they were visions."

Luca’s mouth parted slightly, his mind still grappling with the concept, when—

"Hey, you two! Stop right there!"

A sharp male voice cut through the air like a blade.

Both turned. A figure stood several yards away, hand on his weapon, stance tense.

"State your identities."

Luca went still. His pulse skipped.

Wait... he can see me?

Cold disbelief crawled down his spine.

What the hell is happening?