Drip... drip... drip...
The dream began again.
A faint sound of wind reached his ears, and the air was filled with the earthy stench of rot.
Kallen rolled over, intending to avoid this dream and go back to sleep. After all, he was already far too familiar with these dreams he was "invited" into from time to time.
But footsteps approaching from the distance made him instinctively open his eyes.
The familiar backdrop of a pool was gone, replaced by a swamp, and he was lying in the churning mire.
He disliked the sensation intensely. He had bathed before bed, and after a dream like this, he would still feel dirty when he woke.
Before him, the scythe was still swinging back and forth at him.
It never tired of trying to cleave him.
Once Kallen opened his eyes, it swung even more enthusiastically.
The divine artifacts enshrined in the Order Temple had the excess self-awareness they nurtured cleared away at regular intervals. The last time the [War Scythe] was cleared, its main consciousness had fled to Kallen for refuge.
Although it had not yet reached the level of an artifact spirit, it already possessed considerable sentience. Its presence also gave Kallen far greater control over the [War Scythe] than even Mavario had.
Kallen raised a hand and pushed it away, leaving it to act up off to the side.
A golden skeleton appeared ahead.
She had once pried into his deepest secret. However, after he and she had "settled things" that time, he had warned her never to appear before him again, and there had indeed been no word of her for a long time.
This time, however, she had appeared in his dream.
You couldn't stand the loneliness again, and now you're getting restless?
Kallen slowly stood, and