Corridor, Nightmare, Depth Six.
Fu Qian studied the little chapel before him, his thoughts illuminated.
Its capacity was certainly a bit cramped, but that somehow brought with it a peculiar sense of contentment.
It even seemed fair to put it that way.
Though the Witch had brought him straight here, this place undoubtedly belonged to one of the Nightmare Corridor's most secret corners.
Daimol and Dark Moon.
It seemed one of the five great figures had not only been corrupted by the First Generation Dark Moon, but had been completely unaware of it.
And the other prisoners, too.
The reason he thought so was that, even now, the place remained peaceful. Nothing strange had followed them in.
Even the rust stains on his hand had settled down.
"They can't locate us for now."
The Witch beside him drove the point home, her tone calm and certain.
"But this is indeed behind the door?"
Fu Qian nodded, deeply impressed by the wonder of this little haven.
"Yes. We're now deeper in the dream, and have touched the essence of this place. Daimol's will is still active, too."
As she spoke, the Witch had already stepped forward. She followed a passage so narrow that even one person could barely squeeze through, then made her way around to the front of the statue.
The inconvenience wasn't just because the space was cramped—the side that looked like the front seemed to be the back.
That was right. By now, Fu Qian could see clearly that, though the chapel was small, it had all the usual features. And the statue inside seemed to have been designed to face away from everyone.
"I forcibly broke through the barrier they'd set up, and even damaged Daimol to some extent, but not enough to stop her from resisting."