The room around him flickered like a broken lantern. Medical attendants moved frantically, voices overlapping—changing bloody sheets, bringing basins of water, laying out herbs and instruments Kael did not recognize. He stood in the middle of it all, unseen, untouched, as if nothing tethered him to the scene except the faint glow that pulsed above the chest of his younger self.
The butterfly.
Its crimson wings spread with a faint shimmer, as though it were waiting for him. Drawn to it, Kael stepped forward. His hand hovered, trembling, before lowering onto the chest of the boy who lay there—his own body from another time. The instant his palm touched, something yanked him forward like a current.
The world twisted.
When the dizziness subsided, Kael found himself standing in the middle of a forest clearing. The air smelled of damp moss and wildflowers, too vivid to be false, yet the silence pressed too heavily to be real.
On a fallen tree trunk, a small boy sat hunched over, shoulders shaking. His long black hair stuck to his damp face, and those blood-red eyes glistened with tears.
Kael froze. He knew instantly who it was.
The boy lifted his head, as if sensing something. "...Who is that?" His voice cracked, timid yet searching.
Kael flinched, a chill running down his spine. For the first time in all his dreams, someone—someone from the past—had felt his presence. Hesitant, Kael stepped out from between the trees.
The boy's eyes widened. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. It was not the bright, heroic smile the world knew, but a sad, brittle curve of the lips, too heavy for such a young face. "What are you doing here?"
Kael didn't answer. His throat closed, words locked away. Confusion knotted inside him. This was supposed to be just a memory, yet the child was staring straight at him.
Instead, Kael's voice came out low, steady despite his unease:
"Why… are you crying?"
The boy rubbed at his eyes, smearing tears across his cheeks. "I just… I don't know." His voice broke again, and his small shoulders trembled. "I was chosen as Hero… I should be happy, but—" He buried his face in his palms, sobbing harder. "Reinhardt should have been the one chosen, not me…"
Kael moved instinctively, closing the distance. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. The child looked up through tears, forcing another smile. "...Will people hate me? Will my friend… Reinhardt abandon me?"
Kael's chest tightened. He didn't know the truth, couldn't know it—but he knew one thing. His hand ruffled the boy's black hair, gentle.
"No, Kael…" he whispered. He drew in a deep breath and steadied himself. "Even if you become weak… they never abandon you."
The boy's eyes widened, staring at him as though staring into a mirror. More tears spilled, but this time, his lips trembled into a smile—not of despair, but of relief. His tiny fingers grasped Kael's hand, clutching it tight.
"Am I… able to save everyone?"
The words pierced him like a blade. Kael flinched. It was the same question he himself had asked Elric only last night. His silence betrayed him.
The boy tilted his head, puzzled at the lack of reply. Then his gaze sharpened. Slowly, his small hand rose and brushed Kael's white hair. His lips parted in surprise. "…Why are your hair white?"
His hand trailed lower, fingers brushing across the deep scars that lined Kael's neck and collarbone. "What… What happened to me? What happens in the future?" His grip tightened suddenly, both hands clutching Kael's shoulders. He shook him desperately. "Tell me! Please—tell me!"
The world around them shuddered. A deep cracking echoed overhead. Kael looked up, and the bright forest sky fractured like broken glass, splitting apart to reveal endless darkness bleeding through.
The boy's form flickered. His hair drained of black, turning to hazel brown. His red eyes dulled into a familiar shade Kael had seen before—the reflection of his other life. The boy's attire shifted, threads unraveling and reforming into the simple, worn clothes of his past world.
Kael staggered back. His breath caught.
The child in front of him was no longer Kael.
It was himself—the boy from his other world, the life he thought he had left behind.
The forest dimmed, swallowed by black. The air turned heavy, suffocating.
And in that moment, Kael understood.
This was no mere memory.
This was a dream.
The air shifted again. The small boy's appearance began to change right before Kael's eyes—his black hair dissolved into strands of soft brown, his red eyes dimmed into hazel, and his pale, scarred skin turned into something more ordinary. He was no longer the young Kael of this world. He was him—the boy from the other life, the past Kael had desperately tried to forget.
The forest dissolved into mist, vanishing like smoke. In its place stretched an endless, glasslike lake, a vast mirror that swallowed the horizon. The two of them floated above it, suspended in a dreamscape where sky and water were one.
Kael's eyes widened. His breath caught as dread gnawed at him. He knew this figure. He knew what it meant when that boy appeared in his dreams. Pain. Regret. Guilt sharpened into a blade against his throat.
He staggered back, his legs heavy, as though chains bound him to the invisible floor. Each step felt like sinking deeper into water, until finally his strength gave way. He collapsed, knees striking the mirrored surface that rippled beneath him like liquid glass. His chest heaved as his gaze locked on the child slowly approaching.
The boy's hazel eyes glimmered with fury. "So… you think you can run from me?" His voice cracked, sharp and raw, echoing across the endless lake. "You think you can hide?"
Kael remained frozen, silent, his throat tight with fear.
The child's small hand stretched out, trembling with rage, before it clamped onto Kael's neck. The touch was cold—unnaturally cold—like death's grip itself. Then came the pressure. Hard, unyielding, merciless.
Kael's body jerked as he struggled to breathe. His fingers clawed at the child's wrist, but it was useless. The strength pressing down on his windpipe was not that of a frail child—it was the crushing weight of everything Kael had buried.
"You forgot about me!!" the boy screamed. The sound pierced Kael's ears like blades. He flinched, his vision blurring from the sheer force of the voice. "You abandoned me!"
Kael groaned, pain tightening in his chest, his lungs desperate for air.
"You think you deserve a new life?!" The boy's nails dug deeper into Kael's skin. "You don't! You stole it! You stole my suffering, my tears, my death—and turned it into your escape!"
Tears spilled down Kael's cheeks, unbidden.
"You're not a hero!" the boy roared, his eyes glowing with venom. "You never were! You killed them—you killed so many! How dare you think you deserve peace after everything you've done?!"
Kael's arms, once fighting back, grew weaker. His hands slid down, limp, falling against his sides. His vision tunneled. Darkness crept in. His body felt heavy, unresponsive. His consciousness flickered like a dying flame.
The child laughed—a cruel, broken laugh that split the silence of the dream. His grip tightened, so much that Kael heard it: the sharp crack of bone straining under the force.
"You are alone," the boy hissed, his face so close Kael could see the madness in his hazel eyes. "Always alone. You'll always be alone."
Kael's eyes fluttered shut, his mind drifting as if surrendering to the abyss.
But then—light.
A soft glow shimmered in the distance. A familiar crimson gleam drifted into the dream, delicate wings scattering sparks across the endless lake.
The crimson butterfly.
Kael's dimming gaze found it instantly. His tears blurred the sight, but the glow was unmistakable—it was here.
The boy's eyes widened, fury replacing his triumphant smile. He dropped Kael's throat, letting him fall limp to the mirrored floor. Kael gasped faintly, a broken sound scraping his throat, but the child's attention was elsewhere now.
"You again?!" the boy snarled, his voice breaking into a scream. "You worthless thing—why do you protect him?!"
The butterfly danced in the air, gliding just out of reach, its crimson light wrapping Kael's fallen body in a fragile warmth.
"You fool!" the boy shouted, spinning to chase after it. His feet splashed against the lake's surface, leaving ripples with every furious step. "He's not the one you're waiting for! He's nothing! He's mine!"
His voice grew distorted, louder, as if the dream itself bent to his anger. "Give him back to me!! HE IS MINE!!"
Kael lay crumpled on the ground, his breaths shallow and ragged, every inhale a lance of pain through his shattered neck. He couldn't move. Even though the boy had let go, the phantom grip remained, choking him still. His blurred vision caught fragments of the crimson butterfly weaving through the air, leading the boy further away.
It was protecting him. Just as it always had.
But Kael's strength was gone. His body wouldn't respond. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his consciousness fading again. Tears slipped down his pale cheeks as he let his eyes close.
Then—he heard it.
A voice.
It wasn't the boy's. It wasn't Elric's. It wasn't Robert's. It resonated deep in his mind, warm and ancient, wrapping around his broken spirit.
"Wake up… Breathe…"
Kael's eyes twitched, a faint spark stirring in the darkness.
The voice was gentle, kind, yet commanding—the voice of the dragon.
"… Don't give up… Breathe… All of them are waiting for you."
Warmth bloomed in Kael's hand. A sensation so vivid he could almost feel skin against his own.
His eyes opened weakly. In his blurred vision, he saw it—a figure of light kneeling beside him, holding his hand firmly. The figure radiated like a small sun, hazy yet unmistakable. A child's silhouette.
Kael's throat burned as he tried to breathe, each gasp shallow but real.
"Please… breathe…" the dragon's voice came again, trembling now, as though it was praying. "Don't give up… wake up… Please…"
The warmth in his hand pulsed brighter, steadier.
Kael's tears fell silently as he stared at the glowing figure, his heart twisting at the desperate plea in that unseen voice. His chest heaved. His body screamed with pain. But still…
He knew he had to wake up.
He needed to.