The Tomb of the Gods (1)
Drimo.
Shirone and the other seekers of the world now understood the dream.
"Drimo is a system that processes signals of logic and illogic," Shirone said.
"Therefore signals from reality and the otherworld enter at the same time. That's why dreams feel contradictory when you wake up," Miro added.
"Actually they're not contradictory," Sein agreed. "At least inside the dream they're perfectly logical."
"That's the scary part about hidden code," Mong-a said. "Things that are only possible in dreams can play out in reality."
Even now, thinking of Siok made his teeth grind.
'I still... Miro—'
He regretted, more than anything in life, not choosing her during the Twenty Judgments.
Of course he had no intention of hurting Gaold.
'I don't deserve it.'
Only Gaold had the right to love Miro, and that was precisely why a crack had opened in Miro's heart.
'But...
liking is liking.'
Sein, staring at Miro, met Gaold's eyes. They both knew what the other was thinking, but neither spoke, and they looked away.
"By the way." Gaold looked up. "This is definitely not a place to be sober."
KRAAAANG!
A monstrous roar came from the machines whirring in all directions.
"This is the center of Drimo."
The world called Mong-yu— the dream realm— sprawled crazily before Shirone's group.
Gangnan gaped. "My god... no madman's mind would look like this."
Strange structures repeatedly assembled and disassembled; among them Shirone even recognized ancient relics from his planet. Abstract and impressionist paintings, sound waves bursting like fireworks, unknown mathematical formulas.
"The way illogical emotion is rendered into rational symbols is marvelous," Luber said. "That's why some call dreams a source of inspiration."
Arius, who had plundered countless minds, could only praise it this time. "It's astounding. The common sense we know is being overturned; concepts from completely different categories combine seamlessly."
"In dreams every concept goes through mysterious mergers," Mong-a said proudly. "That's where logic and illogic get separated. When you wake, only the logical parts remain. This is very important. If illogical code ascends into reality..."
"The world changes," Shirone finished. "What defines the world is the human heart. If people begin perceiving the world by illogical standards, the world itself will warp."
"A breach of the rules?" Sein asked.
Mong-a nodded. "Yes. But in terms of equivalent exchange, that's actually a smaller problem."
"There are cases where concepts are manipulated artificially," Luber continued. "The representative example is the ."
"Ah—!"
"Concepts that should never come into the logical world can be forced through system loopholes. Humans call those who do that grave robbers."
When Luber glanced over, Arius hunched his shoulders. "Ha, but not every Object in the world is the work of grave robbers, is it? The Rian has is a classic case of self-manifestation."
"If a user has conviction, the system can't stop it. But rules exist to be followed. The reason I didn't enter your dream to punish you was the rules."
"…I'm sorry." Luber stopped scolding.
"That's fine. Objects have helped the world in some ways. Besides, I—" he gave a bitter smile, "—haven't always followed the rules myself."
"You broke the rules, Luber?" Shirone blinked. He hadn't heard that before.
"Yes. Once, I took an Object into reality by my own will. It was the Object used by Odae-seong: the Magic Sword Armand."
Many thoughts flashed through their heads. Of course Luber would know the origin of every Object, but the idea that Armand had been brought out by his hand felt strange.
"I met Armand. She was noble, right?"
"Yes. It was what she wanted. If there's time later, I'll tell you."
Luber had nothing to hide from Shirone; his hesitation was clearly personal.
'If it's Arius...' Sein thought. Arius would know something about the man who handed Armand to Zion, prince of Kazra. But even Arius kept his mouth shut, looking uneasy.
Luber led them to the lowest level of a giant pyramid.
"Here." In a small fountain Luber indicated, a viscous, blood-red liquid lay like a mirror.
"A non-physical engine, commonly called a dream engine. When activated, the barrier between logic and illogic collapses, and even the boundaries of time and space vanish."
"So that's how a dreamer can exist in everyone's dream at once," Shirone said.
"Yes. It's not a logical simultaneous event. It's that spacetime itself disappears."
When Luber activated the dream engine, the blood-red liquid coalesced in midair and began a chaotic transformation.
Mong-a reached out. "I'm injecting negative energy—Nightmare—into Imir's dream. Dream power at maximum. It'll realize the event Imir fears most."
"If such a thing exists," Arius added.
When the preparations finished, the red liquid began to shift form at tremendous speed. A human face, a monster, maybe nothing but illusion.
"Going in."
As the engine spun Drimo, the surrounding landscape shifted.
It was Imir's dream.
Dark. Nothing visible. 'Is this—?'
Silence pressed on them as if this world that had swallowed them ignored their existence.
"It resembles a vacuum," Gaold said.
The comment was so close to the truth that no one answered.
Miro murmured in her head, 'Imir's dream resembles a vacuum.' For Imir, who didn't even allow insignificant creatures to appear in his dreams, that might be natural.
"Is this a nightmare? Or no dream at all?" Gangnan asked.
"That's the problem—we can't tell," Mong-a replied. "But I think it's more likely a nightmare. If it were a true vacuum, not only communication but even our existence would be erased."
"I used Shining magic and the light didn't turn on. Shirone, Miracle Stream?"
"Same. The casting goes through, but this space is controlling the phenomena."
Sein swallowed. 'This isn't a simple vacuum. A world with power enough to ignore Shirone's abilities. We could—maybe be annihilated here.'
"Something's there." At Gaold's voice Shirone stopped and saw an eyeball floating in the void.
There was no light, yet they could see it because that alone was the substance of this dream.
"It's a nightmare," Mong-a said. "I don't know why it's a nightmare... but Nightmare did have an effect."
"Hmm. Imir's fear." Arius stroked his chin and parsed the psychology in the keyword "eye." 'Voyeurism, observation, surveillance. Or sensory systems? Maybe a physical weakness.'
An eye carries many symbolic meanings, but at least it was preferable to an infinite vacuum.
"The number's increasing." As they moved, the eyes kept multiplying. They couldn't gauge distance, and the darkness eventually filled with them.
'Many eyes. A passive concept. Surveillance? Or resistance to voyeurism?' Arius ran possibilities through his head when Miro spoke.
"Anke Ra?"
"No."
Arius stopped and opened his Spirit Zone to sense the number of eyes. Synesthetic insight seldom errs, but this time the count was absurd.
"Roughly over ten billion eyes. These are probably Gaian eyes."
At first it made a sort of sense, but Miro tilted her head. "Then why ten billion? Eyes come in pairs. Shouldn't it be over twenty billion?"
"That's the point. Why are there single eyes? It's psychological unification. Like how disliked friends compress into one person in a dream."
They listened.
"Then here's the problem: why isn't the concept of 'eye' unified here? If it's just fear—surveillance or voyeurism—one giant eye would be enough, right?"
"Maybe because Anke Ra is present?"
"That could be one answer: conceptually it avoids duplication. But even so, it wouldn't output such a huge number. Perhaps the number itself is what terrifies Imir."
Shirone looked up. "Ten billion eyes. Why would that be frightening?"
"Because it's not one," Arius said. "An eye also implies penetration, realization. In other words, ten billion eyes are defining something. They're defining Imir. And he fears that. Therefore..." Arius circled once and aimed at the center the eyes were fixed on.
"Imir is there."
The moment he finished, a figure formed out of the darkness where there had been nothing.
Imir sat cross-legged, chin on his hand, smiling at them.
"Correct."
"Imir." Everyone assumed combat stances, though honestly they didn't even know what stance should work here.
'No sensation.' Ten billion eyes weren't defining them.
"Yes. To put it plainly... is this a dream?"
People usually don't perceive the fact they're dreaming, but Imir was no ordinary being.
"Yes. Good method. This is probably what you're looking for."
When Imir extended his hand, a sphere of electricity glowed blue.
'Ultima System.' It was almost the same form as what Shirone had taken from Babel.
"Honestly, it's unpleasant. No enemy has ever seeped into my mind. Could it be a manager? Well, the world was on the verge of destruction..." Shirone said, then, "Imir, hand it over. If you're truly strong, use your power for the world."
Imir readily offered his hand. "Fine. Take it."
Shirone lunged, but no matter how he moved, the distance wouldn't close.
'No, that's not it.' He even wondered if he had legs.
"Heh heh. See? You can't take it. I don't even know who you are. Want to know why?" Imir grinned. "Because I don't care."
As long as ten billion eyes did not define them, they were nothing.
Imir absorbed the Ultima System into his palm and slowly rose. "I'll admit you scored one hit. But finding me will be trouble. Because my memory is—"
Imir's image dissolved into the darkness.
"Because it's the Tomb of the Gods."