The Interpretation of Dreams (Asking for monthly votes at the start of the month!)

Dream.

Deep sleep.

Dreaming while in deep sleep.

Dreaming and realizing one is dreaming.

Horn rarely dreamed, even before he transmigrated, and it had become even rarer since. Memories of the night were always blurry, like raindrops returning to the vast ocean.

If it were his former boss and slacking-off partner from before he transmigrated, they would surely be citing classics again, rambling on about how Hypnos and Thanatos were twin brothers. But now, beneath a death-like, profound slumber, Horn fell into a dreamscape that felt strangely familiar.

[--The Path of Returning to the Dream--]

Some memories are sketches depicting a dream. But some memories cross the borders of dreams, arriving at the Woodland and the dwelling upon it.

A road paved with moonlight spiraled like a giant python atop the mountain ridge, extending upward until it touched the bright silver atmosphere, and narrowing as it descended toward a forest that grew, tangled, and clustered at the edge of something or somewhere, remaining dim even under the cobalt light.

--This is a dream.

Never had he been so certain that he was in a dream. He did not attempt to head upward along the road, nor did he try to look back at the source of the cobalt light. Driven by a sense of foresight, Horn stepped onto the downward path without a second thought, following the moonlight that flowed like mercury.

--This is the starting point.

And so, the dream began to flow.

As it flowed, colors like impurities faded from Horn, mixing into the increasingly narrow and intermittent path, causing the light, airy moonlight to slowly become heavy and mottled.

--Like a stream.

A thought suddenly arose in Horn's mind.

And so, Horn fell into a stream.

The rushing water roared, and whirlpools dragged at the colors on Horn's body, making the boy's silhouette blur until it seemed as if he would merge with the stream like a stubborn ink blot at any moment.

--Can't go on like this, must break free.

"Change!"

The urgent and forceful command escaped his lips, ordering the stream. A scorching majesty caused the whirlpools to stall for an instant, and the reef blocking the path ahead shattered, creating an opening large enough for a person to pass through. The dream trembled and heated up; the scent of hot copper inexplicably permeated the air.

And so, the scalded stream twisted and flipped over, as if it had taken a gulp of hot water when caught off guard, and spat Horn out in disgust.

"Ptooey!"

Carrying a sense of inexplicable regret, Horn, having failed to reach the shore, drifted downstream and floated away through the shattered opening.

[The waters of the Woodland are both cold and deep, yet never clear. You cannot get there by relying solely on the knowledge of change; you must exert passion.]

[You have drifted into other dreams.]

A moment later.

"Glug, glug."

The silhouette of a behemoth's spine slowly emerged in an ice-blue lake, and four tentacles tipped with hooks stretched out, scanning the entire lake in confusion.

How strange. Just a moment ago, there was the scent of flames and the most conspicuous light. How did it vanish all of a sudden?

It really couldn't figure it out.

However, the confusion lasted only for an instant. The Kraken's flocculent brain quickly dissolved back into its state, happily returning to a state of ignorant chaos.

After all, this is the [Woodland]; nothing is strange here. If one were to make a fuss every day, they would have long since gone mad or died, just like those moths.

Crunching on the wings of the unknown little thing it had just caught, very satisfied with the delicious, unexpected treat, the [Kraken] settled back into the bottom of the mire until it was startled awake next time.

--Sigh, I still kind of miss the taste of those glowing things. I wonder when I'll get to eat one again.

This was its final thought before falling back into hibernation.

The morning sun shone through the unclosed blinds onto Horn's face, causing the boy's eyelashes to flutter slightly as he woke from his deep and peaceful slumber.

"Ahhhhh—slept so well."

His stiff joints felt invigorated by the act of stretching. Filled with a sense of overflowing power, Horn summoned the light screen without a second thought to check it.

Ding, ding, dong.

His heartbeat accelerated in an instant, and his boiling blood pumped, blowing away the lingering sleepiness. On the unprecedented action frame, gray-white whimsical symbols piled up like clouds, and the progress bar beneath them had reached its end.

Under the light touch of Horn's consciousness, the entire action frame turned to dust and dissipated, leaving behind only the shallowest of traces.

[When you do not use the correct solution for a dream, you cannot enter the correct location—perhaps that is not a bad thing.]

[You have entered the hustle and bustle of sleep.]

[A deep and tranquil slumber—you dreamed of nothing, but this quiet time of solitude has left you refreshed.]

"Dreaming has its risks; seek knowledge with caution," the words of Professor Olive echoed in Horn's ears once more, bringing a chill that felt almost tangible. It made the yawn Horn hadn't finished yet...

Holy crap, there wouldn't actually be a Dreamlands, would there?!

I won't dream of a tall, cheerful Black man next time, will I? No, no, perhaps Nyarlathotep is more likely... Oh my, what am I thinking? Bad luck, bad luck.

He patted his forehead, interrupting the overly active train of thought that came with his state of abundant spirituality, and Horn looked at the unexpected harvest lingering on the tabletop.

The pink card trembled in time with the rhythm of his heart, a milky-white cross overlapping an abstract heart shape, signaling its pulsating nature.

[Obtained Influence: Vitality!]

[Today, your heart beats with greater strength.]

[Vitality: Exercise, or other rarer things, invigorate me, filling me with vitality. [Studying Vitality is beneficial to your health.]]

[Aspect—Influence: A certain echo, resonance, or harmony that will soon fade away.]

[Aspect—Upgradable: This is merely a glimpse into the future.]

[Aspect—Heart: To protect the skin of the world we know, the tireless heart persists in its beating.]

Recalling the fleeting glance he had caught in that Prevention and Suppression Bureau pamphlet, Horn briefly compared it to his own situation, feeling genuinely relieved that no dream-related hazards had come looking for him.

Thank goodness, thank goodness.

"No specific numerical values, only confirmation that it belongs to [Heart]... How lucky. In any case, having more vitality shouldn't be a bad thing."

Unable to find a use for [Vitality] for the time being, Horn withdrew his consciousness from the tabletop as if nothing had just happened. He began to wash up, unconsciously stepping with a light gait and wearing a flush of color from his recent exertion.

The grand future of alchemy was still waiting for him; work, work, ready to work.

He donned his alchemy uniform to the accompaniment of the Lower District's habitual clamor and tidied up the personal items he would need later. Carrying his case in one hand, Horn stepped into the morning chill and set off on the road to the Birmingham Alchemy Academy.

Compared to the late autumn when he had first transmigrated, the morning wind in Birmingham had grown increasingly biting... yet Horn's pupils were brighter than ever. The layer of helplessness that had once clouded his curious gaze had faded, replaced by a touch of familiarity.

For the last time, Horn walked down the apartment stairs, heading forward to meet the dawn.

There was no looking back.