The corridors of the Xenology & Beast Research Wing were a sterile contrast to the chaotic energy of the combat fields. Lucas walked deeper into the sub-levels, his footsteps echoing against white-jade floorboards that hummed with high-frequency mana scanners. He was following a cryptic trail left by Valorie—not the clumsy librarian he had met in the city, but a shadow that seemed to move through the Academy's restricted zones with invisible ease.
He found her in a private vault, the air thick with the scent of ozone and something sweet, like night-blooming jasmine. Unlike the frazzled girl buried under scrolls, this Valorie stood poised, her presence radiating a quiet, terrifying authority.
"You're late, Lucas," she said without turning.
"The Sentinel dorms are designed like a labyrinth," Lucas replied, his eyes narrowing as he felt the atmospheric pressure change. "But that's not why the air in here feels like it's trying to crush my lungs, is it?"
Valorie turned, and for a split second, she dropped her suppression wards. Lucas's Eye Skill flared, his vision turning gold as he gazed into the spiritual shadow behind her.
Deep within her soul, a Grimoire hovered—not Blue, not even the Gold of the high nobility, but a Deep Violet. Lucas's heart hammered against his ribs. A Violet book holder was a Tier-2 anomaly, a rank that usually belonged to the Hidden Elders of the Great Sects or the Royal Lineage itself. But even more shocking was the silhouette residing in her first page.
The Dream Beast: Oneiro-Wraith
Beside Valorie, the air rippled like a disturbed pond. A creature began to manifest, though it seemed to have no solid form. It was a shifting mass of starlight and obsidian smoke, shaped vaguely like a slender, long-necked stag with eyes that contained entire galaxies.
[ SUBJECT: UNIDENTIFIED ]
[ RANK: ??? (ESTIMATED GENERAL+) ]
[ ATTRIBUTE: DREAM / CAUSALITY ]
"A Dream-Type..." Lucas whispered, his voice dry.
"It's called a Somnambulist Weaver," Valorie said, her voice dropping into a professional tone. "It doesn't exist on the physical plane. It feeds on the ambitions and nightmares of those around it. Its bloodline is a mystery even to the Academy, but it is the reason I'm hidden here in Research instead of leading a Clan."
The beast shimmered, its form flickering as if it were a glitch in reality. It could slip into the minds of enemies, making them fight phantoms of their own making or erasing their memory of the last ten seconds of combat. Like Lucas, Valorie was a Sentinel—but while he focused on Static and Illusion, she commanded the very fabric of Thought.
"I invited you here because we are the same," Valorie said, the shifting Dream Beast letting out a sound like distant wind chimes. "We are both masters of 'Control' who hold secrets that could set this Sanctuary on fire. My Dream Beast can manipulate the perception of those who watch you, but in exchange, I need your data. I need to see how a 'Trash' beast like Moxie managed to break the genetic lock."
Lucas felt a chill. Valorie wasn't just a nerdy researcher; she was a predator hiding in a library.
"You want to protect your secrets, and I want to explore the impossible," she continued. "The TID is already looking at your survival trial footage. They think you have a 'Mental Overclock' device. If I 'claim' you as my primary research subject, I can provide you with 'Official Prototypes'—fake tech that explains why your beasts are so unnaturally strong."
Lucas looked at the Dream Beast. It was a terrifyingly powerful entity, capable of rewriting a person's perception while a fight was still happening. If he collaborated with Valorie, he could walk through the Academy in broad daylight, and no one would ever see his true six-floor Pagoda.
"Fine," Lucas said, extending his hand. "I'll give you the data. You give me the cover."
As they shook hands, the Dream Beast's smoke-like tail brushed against Lucas's arm. For a moment, his vision blurred, and he saw a flash of his own future—a mountain of white dragon scales and a sea of purple fire.
"One more thing," Valorie added, her violet eyes flashing with a cold light. "The Academy's Research Department has a secret project called the 'Ancestral Rebirth.' They are looking for a beast with Mythical potential to host an experimental Synchro-Core. If they find out about your snake—or whatever that 'Frost-Vein' serpent really is—they won't ask for permission. They'll take her."
The realization hit Lucas like a sudden drop in temperature. He looked from the cosmic, smoke-like stag at Valorie's side back to the woman herself. He had mentioned the snake to her before—dismissing it as a common Frost-Vein Serpenthe'd found by a river—and he hadn't questioned her when she'd seemingly accepted that lie.
But as he looked into the galaxy-filled eyes of the Somnambulist Weaver, he understood the depth of his miscalculation.
The Dream Beast didn't just eat nightmares; it navigated the subconscious. While Lucas had been busy selling the lie of a "normal snake" with his words, his mind had been radiating the true weight of Nyxia's presence. To a beast that operated on the plane of Causality, Lucas's verbal deception was a thin veil over a blinding sun. It didn't need to see the physical scales to know the "weight" of the myth Lucas was carrying; it had tasted the draconic frost in the ripples of his thoughts.
"You've been in my head," Lucas stated, his voice flat. It wasn't a question.
Valorie didn't flinch. "I remember what you told me, Lucas. A 'normal snake,' right? But dreams are messy. They leak. When you sleep, your mind tries to process the sheer pressure of holding a Mythical contract. My Weaver doesn't even have to try; it simply breathes in the echoes you leave behind. It saw the truth that your words tried to hide: a pair of violet eyes that didn't belong to a reptile, and a frost that could freeze the stars."
Lucas didn't argue. He didn't even bother to ask how long she had known. Against a beast that could attack through the world of sleep and pull truths from the deepest layers of the mind, his physical defenses were secondary. If she had wanted to betray him, she could have handed him over to the Wingshtons the moment she saw the first spark of white dragon-fire in his subconscious.
"The Weaver sees the 'threads' of what's coming," Valorie continued, her voice softening as the Dream Beast's tail drifted through a nearby stone pillar as if it weren't there. "It saw the path where you try to pass off a God-tier dragon as a river snake and fail miserably under the Academy's scanners. I'm offering you a way to make that lie a reality."
The Strategic Alignment
Lucas looked at his wrist, where Nyxia was currently coiled tight. The fact that Valorie knew the truth didn't make her an enemy—it made her the only person in the Sanctuary capable of seeing the true scale of the gamble he was playing.
"If the Weaver can see her," Lucas said, "can it hide her?"
"It can do better," Valorie replied, a faint, sharp smile touching her lips. "It can broadcast a Dream-Signature over her. To any sensor or inquisitive master, she won't look like a Mythical entity, nor even your 'normal snake.' She will look like a piece of Experimental Bio-Tech I'm developing in the sub-levels. I will be your official handler. Your anomalies won't be 'secrets' anymore—they'll be 'State-Sponsored Research.'"
Lucas finally nodded. He was a Sentinel, a master of control, but he was practical enough to recognize a superior tool. Valorie's Violet Grimoire and her Somnambulist Weaver were the ultimate camouflage.
"Then we have a deal," Lucas said. "But stay out of my head. If I see that stag in my dreams again, I'll show you what a dragon's nightmare looks like."
Valorie let out a short, genuine laugh. "Fair enough. But be careful, Lucas. The Dream Beast didn't just see a dragon. It saw a throne made of ice and bone. Whatever you're planning for the Wingshtons... even the Weaver is afraid of how it ends."