This Energy Hub... Why Does It Look More and More Like...

"Did you sleep well?" a greeting came from outside the door.

Grisha lifted his eyelids and saw that it was one of the comrades who had come with him. Only then did he yawn and begin fastening the prosthetic leg he had set aside.

Honestly, he had not slept well at all.

All night long, he had been having nightmares. Every time he woke from one dream and turned his head, before he could even feel relieved, he would discover that he had entered another nightmare.

When he saw the morning light over Blood Port, he even felt somewhat liberated.

His companion noticed the dark circles beneath Grisha's eyes and looked surprised. "Nightmares again?"

Grisha pursed his lips.

Nightmares had always plagued him. He constantly dreamed that he was still on the battlefield, surrounded by wounded comrades crying out in agony and one familiar face after another.

He looked up at his surroundings. This was bustling Blood Port—lively, peaceful, full of vitality, so beautiful that it felt somewhat unreal.

Perhaps everything now was the dream, nothing more than the hallucination of a boy dying on the battlefield.

Grisha stared at his hands, his gaze flickering.

Well... that would be fine too. Equal death was a kind of release.

"Don't stand around spacing out. Hurry up, the ignition ceremony is today!" His companion patted him on the back.

Grisha hesitated for a second before remembering.

He had clearly been looking forward to it all along, yet the nightmares had left him so dazed that he had nearly forgotten.

The thought of Bazel being thrown into the furnace dispelled much of the gloom in Grisha's heart.

Perhaps he would never truly leave that battlefield. Perhaps nightmares would haunt him forever. But at least their blood had not been spilled in vain.

Bazel—just