Chapter 6—Keep Running
"He figured it out?" The agent narrowed his eyes. "Or luck?"
Ryle wasn't sure.
Boom!
The agent's fist collided with Nightmare Ryle's; purple aura and orange flames erupted on contact. Neither pulled back an inch. Wind tore between them as their hair whipped sideways, both fists still locked together, neither giving ground.
'Incredible.' Ryle shielded his eyes. 'But how do I help?' He knew why it existed—just not what to do.
"You're right." The agent spat the words through gritted teeth as both he and the Nightmare poured more energy into the clash.
Whoosh!
The influx cracked the air between them and shoved both figures back. The shockwave rolled outward—and flung Ryle into the air.
He looked down. 'Can't rely on luck every time.' His arms and legs weren't responding properly, trajectory aimed straight at the burning liquid below. ''Definitely broken…' His limbs hung wrong.
Below, both stood on the burning liquid. 'How?' He wanted that—he was falling toward it right now. He focused hard, eyes and senses locked on them.
The agent's entire body was wrapped in purple energy like a second skin.
"I can feel something, but—" Ryle's brows rose as he tried to pull at whatever he felt stirring inside him. His palms flickered—a thin purple aura bled out from them. "Yes." A grin broke across his face. "I did it."
"What?" The agent's focus snapped away from the Nightmare. "Already controlling dream power?"
"Not bad, Ryle." The Nightmare smiled, clenching his flaming fists. "Things just got more interesting."
"How is he already using it?" the agent muttered—and didn't move as the Nightmare came rushing at him.
Boom!
Ryle hit the burning liquid feet-first and felt nothing. A thin layer of purple energy wrapped his soles like a second skin. His lips curved. 'Good.'
He let the energy spread up his legs, across his torso, over his arms. The heat vanished. He waved an arm through a passing spark and checked for burns.
Nothing. Only the purple layer—undisturbed.
"Finally." He turned toward the fight.
Boom!
The agent deflected the Nightmare's punch with his palm and drove his free hand—wrapped in purple aura—into the Nightmare's gut.
Bang!
The Nightmare was pushed back several meters, wincing, breath knocked out of him. Then his entire body erupted in orange flames. The agent's muscles tightened, brows knitting together.
"This Nightmare is stronger than expected," he said quietly.
He clapped his hands. When he pulled them apart, blue water surged between his palms and formed a spinning sphere.
The Nightmare raised his left hand outward, back of the hand facing his other arm, then drew his right hand back like pulling a bowstring—two fingers extended. A ribbon of fire gathered in his palm and sharpened into an arrow.
Ryle's brows shot up. 'That pose—Anime character.'
Whoosh!
The half-meter water sphere and the fire arrow tore toward each other.
Boom!
Smoke erupted from the collision point. Then —
Thud!
The agent came flying out of the smoke, body catching fire.
'Water couldn't cancel out fire.' Something heavy settled in Ryle's chest. 'I have to do something.' He scanned around. No weapon. No opening. Nothing.
"Emotions," he muttered, the word surfacing on its own.
Resentment had been his guess. He turned inward and felt through everything—all of it, aimed at himself. No extraordinary power, no cheat ability. His second life was no better than his first. He'd wanted to achieve something, be someone distinct—who wouldn't, coming back with all their memories intact? But reality had already answered that.
'Nothing I brought mattered.'
Knowledge—useless. Dreams—pointless. Everything the same.
'My memories...' He lowered his head.
Then he felt it—the energy wrapped around his entire body, humming steadily.
'I'm not... ordinary anymore.' His fingers tightened. 'I won't stay that way.'
He exhaled slowly. The moment the Nightmare had appeared, the moment he'd moved dream power—that was the line. He'd already crossed it.
The smoke cleared. The agent rose with burns scattered across his arms and chest. The Nightmare stood completely untouched, casually picking at his ear, then blowing the debris from his fingertip.
Then he stopped. A jolt ran through his body—he turned sharply toward Ryle, who had been murmuring under his breath. The Nightmare's body flickered with purple smoke for a moment before settling back to normal.
"It's no use," the agent hissed, already surrounded by swirling blue water. He raised his palm, extended a finger—water flooded out and shaped itself into an arrow, then shot toward the Nightmare like a bullet.
Whoosh!
The Nightmare punched straight through it.
Bang!
He slid back a few meters as the arrow dissolved, then steadied himself.
"Run!" the agent screamed at Ryle, who was standing still, staring at the Nightmare with a blank expression. "It's no use!"
'Why isn't it working?' Ryle's mind turned it over. He was carrying dream power now—technically no longer ordinary by any measure. So why wasn't it enough?
"Once it's formed, letting go won't stop it!" The agent roared as dozens of water arrows assembled in the air above him, packed so tight the purple moon was completely blotted out.
Whoosh!
His arm swept forward. More than a hundred arrows screamed toward the Nightmare.
Orange flames erupted across the Nightmare's body, vaporizing arrow after arrow into steam. A few broke through—met with a punch, and a kick, knocking aside without slowing him down.
Boom! Bang!
The Nightmare moved through the storm of arrows like a dance, smoke billowing thick across the entire area.
"Run, kid." The agent was panting now, voice raw. 'How is this Nightmare so strong? This isn't normal.'
Ryle heard it. He exhaled. 'No use, huh.'
He turned and ran.
The agent watched his back for a long moment, then said quietly, heavily. "I'm sorry, kid."
He raised his right index finger. Water surged from his body and shaped into a single deep arrow—dense, focused, perfectly aimed.
At Ryle.
No hesitation.
One arrow.
One step from death.