NOVEL NEXT Filler Arc – Dream Sequence: I Am the Curse, Part 2
Filler Arc – Dream Sequence: I Am the Curse, Part 2
Silence fell over the arena like a drawn breath held too long.
Kael stood at the edge of the fractured platform, slime still coiled over his arms, steaming where red-black ooze had splashed him. The glow around his body—once wild and fiery during combat—now hovered like a quiet flame, pulsing to his heartbeat.
Across the shattered floor, the cursed version of him knelt, one hand buried in the cracked stone, the other limp at its side—fingers melting into tendrils and reforming, uncertain.
Not lunging.
Not snarling.
Just breathing.
For the first time since stepping into the nightmare, Kael didn't feel like prey. Or a vessel. Or some reckless dreamer caught in his own psyche.
He just felt… tired.
His shoulders sagged slightly. His breathing slowed.
"Still alive?" he muttered, barely audible.
Rimuru floated beside him, dim but stable. Her glow, once flickering during the ascent, was calm now—soft blue with gentle pulses. No urgency. No panic.
Kael took a slow step forward.
The floor crackled beneath his boot, flakes of dry slime sloughing away as if peeling from old skin.
The cursed version didn't move.
Kael circled slightly, studying him from a distance.
The figure wasn't collapsing, but it was faltering. Its arms twitched out of sync. The glow in its eyes flickered, not just with mana, but with something… hollow. Lost. Like the structure was breaking from the inside.
And then it spoke.
Not loudly.
Not cruelly.
"Do you remember… the slime?"
Kael blinked.
"…What?"
The cursed Kael raised its head slowly. Its voice was cracked now—still layered with the voices of those Kael had consumed, but softer. Like the weight of those voices had grown too heavy to carry.
"The first one. The wild one. No name. You absorbed it during training. It wasn't hostile. It didn't even fight back."
Kael's throat tightened. "I didn't think it mattered."
"It didn't. Not until it did."
Kael stared.
Rimuru pulsed faintly beside him. She remembered too.
A small slime, no bigger than his palm, wobbling across a training path. He had reached out. Touched it. Used Predator casually.
It was gone before he realized it had feelings.
That memory had haunted him once.
But like so many other small wrongs… it faded behind louder victories.
He looked back at the cursed version of himself.
"You remember all of them?"
The cursed Kael's body rippled.
"No. You do. I'm just what you buried."
Kael felt his stomach twist.
Every battle. Every name. Every life taken in pursuit of survival, strategy, or protection.
He wanted to say I didn't know. He wanted to argue that not every loss was avoidable.
But those words felt… weak.
Instead, he said:
"I see them now."
And it was true.
In the cracks of the arena, faces shimmered. Not with judgment—but with presence. Memory. Fragments of voices and lives woven into the battle-scarred floor.
Goblin footfalls.
Beastfolk howls.
Panther cries.
Even Rimuru's voice—small, quiet—saying "I trust you."
[Sync Thread Reinforced: Emotional Processing Stabilized]
[Burden Acknowledged. Weight Balanced.]
Kael exhaled.
He raised a hand—not as a threat, but as a promise.
"I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm asking for a chance to do better."
The cursed version's body twitched.
Its arms steadied. Its form straightened.
But its voice… cracked open.
"Then prove it."
Chains shattered beneath the arena.
Mana surged.
The cursed version's mouth split into a new, jagged grin.
"Let's see if you can carry us all."
And the second wave began.
The cursed Kael didn't charge.
He reached.
His arm extended—not swung, not slashed—just elongated, impossibly fast, like molten tar stretching through air. Before Kael could react, the tendril coiled around his ankle and pulled.
The arena disappeared.
Sky. Stone. Tower.
Gone.
Kael was yanked into the core of something that wasn't a body… but a domain.
He fell through slime and shadow, through layers of memory compressed into heat and voice and pressure. It wasn't like falling through water—it was like drowning in thought. Every inch of movement dragged him across shards of what he had done, taken, chosen.
Screams whispered past his ears, some familiar, others terrifyingly new.
"You took me for my skill."
"You didn't even ask my name."
"I wanted to live. You needed to win."
"He told me I mattered…"
Kael tried to cover his ears—but there was no body. Just will. Just presence.
And then—he hit ground.
Solid.
Cold.
Alive.
He opened his eyes slowly.
He stood in a void.
The sky was a sphere above him—curved like a dome, pulsing with red and blue veins. Around him stretched a plain of cracked obsidian etched with memories. Not carved—burned in. Each one a still image in glass.
A goblin's final moment. A Nyavari dissolving in Predator's maw. A bandit's terrified face.
Everything he had consumed or taken without understanding was here, frozen, watching.
Rimuru appeared beside him, flickering violently—barely maintaining form.
Kael knelt instinctively. "Rimuru—are you—?"
She pulsed weakly. Not in pain. In warning.
Then the floor beneath her cracked.
Something rose from it.
No, someones.
Shadows.
Figures with no faces, formed of liquid memory—oozing mana in streaks of regret and flame. Some were tall. Some were beast-like. Some were human. All of them had no eyes.
Just empty sockets dripping tears of blue light.
They began to surround him.
Kael stood slowly.
"This isn't justice," he said. "It's punishment."
None replied.
But they moved.
They stepped forward—not to attack. Not yet. Just to be seen.
And Kael realized…
They were all silent.
No screaming. No yelling. No anger.
Just… silence.
Like their voices had been stolen when he took their power.
Kael turned to Rimuru. "I don't think I'm supposed to fight them."
She dimmed—then pulsed in affirmation.
Not fight.
Face.
Kael stepped toward the nearest one.
It recoiled slightly, uncertain.
He reached out.
Touched its shoulder.
The form flickered—and changed.
A girl. A mage. Maybe sixteen. The one he'd absorbed during the Slime Link rampage when the left flank collapsed. She looked terrified—but calm.
And she whispered:
"I hoped I would be remembered."
Kael's chest tightened.
He nodded.
"I do."
She faded into blue mist.
The others began to shimmer—one by one. Warriors. Beasts. Strangers.
All watching.
All waiting for something simple.
Recognition.
Kael fell to his knees, whispering name after name—some he remembered, some he barely knew, some he made up because they had never told him.
Rimuru floated above him, her glow syncing.
And then—
A light pulsed from his chest.
[Sync Stabilized – Mana Conscience Thread Created]
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[Emotional Load: Absorbed, not erased.]
The void began to brighten.
One by one, the shadows lifted their heads.
And Kael realized—
He wasn't here to fight them.
He was here to free them.
The stillness was deceptive.
Kael's boots touched down on solid ground, but nothing about the world around him felt stable. The very air hummed, not with mana—but with memory. Thin as thread, heavy as lead.
He wasn't standing on stone anymore.
The black floor beneath him was translucent now, showing flickering layers below—spirals of memory suspended in fluid motion. Each layer a pale-blue lens into something half-forgotten, painfully real.
And around him, the dream was changing again.
Walls rose from the edges of his vision, curling upward like ink poured into water—forming smooth, glassy surfaces that shimmered and breathed. They didn't reflect Kael. They played him.
Like windows.
Like confessions.
[System Alert: Subconscious Anchor Detected]
[Designated Area – CHAMBER OF REGRET]
[Emotional Load: Critical]
[Processing manually…]
Kael stood still.
He didn't call for Rimuru. She hovered close anyway, brushing softly against his shoulder like she sensed what was coming.
The walls began to move.
One by one, scenes bloomed to life around him.
At first… quiet ones.
The Raveni seer, bowing her head after giving him the seed.
Gobrin, slapping Kael's back with pride the day Emberleaf's festival finished without bloodshed.
His younger self, curled on a cot in the palace, muttering names from Earth in his sleep—his mother's voice humming in the background.
Kael felt warmth rise in his chest.
Then came the turn.
The scenes shifted.
That same Raveni, now weeping as a magic beast trampled her caravan.
Gobrin, clutching a broken leg and shouting for Kael while a fire raged nearby.
Zar'ghel, arms spread, protecting Nyaro from a blast—and Kael hesitating.
He reached toward the wall, instinctively.
It burned to the touch.
Kael yanked his hand back.
His reflection in the surface wasn't him.
It was Cursed Kael—grinning, arms slick with ooze.
And just behind him: every life Kael had touched.
Some smiling.
Some staring.
Some fading into silhouettes of red mana.
Rimuru flared suddenly in protest, forming a barrier of blue between him and the wall.
Kael clenched his fists.
"No more lies," he whispered. "Show me everything."
The chamber responded.
The floor beneath him rippled. The air bent inward. And the walls began to rotate in a slow spiral—each one projecting a moment Kael regretted.
Not because they were evil.
But because they were incomplete.
Moments where he looked away too soon.
Moments where he convinced himself someone else would fix it.
Moments where he told himself, "That's not my fault."
He watched—
—Himself walking away from a weeping goblin after a dispute over food.
—A beastkin child watching Kael kill her father, not knowing he had betrayed Emberleaf hours earlier.
—A named slime Kael never remembered afterward, left behind when the village moved camps.
They didn't scream.
They didn't accuse.
They just watched him.
And waited.
Kael sank to his knees.
He pressed his palm to the floor.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to forget."
The lights dimmed.
But the dream didn't shatter.
Because sorry wasn't enough.
Kael looked up.
"I regret every name I let fade. Every life I didn't carry. Every time I told myself I was too busy being king to be human."
The wind picked up.
The walls cracked—fine fractures like veins of light spreading through their surfaces.
Rimuru pressed against his back.
[Emotional Integrity Surpassing Threshold]
[Catalyst for Stabilization Detected]
[Processing…]
Kael stood slowly.
His voice no longer shaking.
"I remember."
He reached toward the nearest wall.
Instead of burning him, it melted.
And in its place, stood one figure.
Not Cursed Kael.
Not an enemy.
Just a man.
Young. Worn. Honest.
A version of Kael… without the weight.
Not smiling.
But ready.
Kael met his gaze.
"You're not what I'm afraid of."
The figure nodded once—and vanished into light.
The entire chamber shattered.
Gently.
Like ice under morning sun.
Kael stood again at the peak of the dream.
The spire reformed beneath his feet.
But the sky above him had changed.
No longer red.
Just a slowly pulsing field of soft stars and silver mist.
And from below…
Cursed Kael rose one final time.
Only now, his body struggled to stay whole.
He was cracked.
Leaking.
Breathing hard.
The end was near.
The cursed Kael rose, but not like a warrior.
He heaved himself upward—each movement jagged, reluctant, wrong. His corrupted form was fraying at the edges. Limbs cracked and reformed inconsistently. Veins of red-black slime pulsed chaotically across his chest, like the mana inside him was turning against itself.
His mouth opened, and a dry, ragged breath escaped—something between a growl and a cough.
Kael took a slow step forward, his eyes steady, Slime Link Mode glowing around him like a soft aura rather than a weapon.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't raise his arms.
He just said, with quiet conviction:
"You were never the enemy."
The cursed version twitched violently.
"Liar."
Kael didn't stop.
"You're the part of me that took the hits so I didn't have to feel them. You absorbed the guilt so I could function. You locked away the faces so I could keep leading."
He stepped closer.
"You're not a curse."
The cursed Kael reeled back, head shaking as if the words physically hurt.
"I am what keeps you from crumbling."
Kael nodded once.
"I know. But I'm ready to stand up now."
He lifted a hand.
Rimuru floated beside it, brighter than she'd been in this entire dream. Her glow expanded outward, rippling into long, elegant threads of light that wrapped around Kael's wrist and arm.
The glow touched the corrupted mana—and didn't fight it.
It merged.
Kael closed his eyes, and with a single breath, opened the gates of his mind—not to battle, but to share.
What flooded out wasn't fire.
It was warmth.
A surge of memory not forged in combat or pain—but connection.
The names came first.
—Gobri. His clumsy jokes during weapon drills.
—Nana. Singing off-key while building a school tent.
—Nyaro. His paw squeezing Kael's shoulder during a stormy night.
—Zelganna. Mumbling to herself as she carved new armor for goblins.
—Gobrinus. Silently replacing Kael's broken pen every week without being asked.
Then came the feelings.
The way Emberleaf smelled after rain.
The sound of Rimuru bouncing against his bedpost.
The heartbeat of the village as it grew—not perfectly, not easily—but together.
The sensation of trying. Not succeeding. Just trying, honestly.
These were his truths.
And they surged through him like a tidal wave.
[EMOTIONAL THREAD COMPLETE]
[PULSE INITIATED: MEMORY TRANSFERENCE ACTIVE]
[Synaptic Sync Confirmed with Rimuru]
The world around Kael brightened.
Blue and white light swirled around his body like solar winds. It wasn't overwhelming—it was beautiful. Silent. Patient.
A pressure wave rolled across the spire-top. Not destructive—but cleansing.
Kael extended his hand forward.
Rimuru spiraled beside it.
The light from them both struck the cursed version full-on.
But instead of burning—
It entered.
Not forcefully.
But like a key.
The cursed Kael screamed—not in pain, but in recognition.
His form shook, the corrupted slime trembling as if exposed to something ancient and clean. The voices inside him began to cry—not angry cries. Not battle cries.
Just voices.
"I was a builder…"
"I liked tea…"
"I had a song I sang when I was scared…"
Faces emerged within the cursed body. Faint. Transparent.
Some Kael recognized. Others he didn't.
But he saw them all.
They weren't enemies.
They were people.
"You took us to win," one voice whispered.
"But you're remembering to live," said another.
Cursed Kael's mouth trembled.
He fell to his knees, hands pressed against the floor.
His voice came small.
Not layered.
Just Kael's voice.
A quiet version.
"...I don't want to forget anymore."
Kael lowered his hand.
"You won't."
The light faded.
Not into darkness—but into sunlight.
Soft, dawn-colored mana bathed the spire. The storm above was gone. The chains had turned to threads of light, unraveling into the wind.
The corrupted figure collapsed forward.
His body no longer monstrous.
Just fragile.
Kael walked to him.
Knelt beside him.
And whispered—
"You carried it long enough. Let me take it from here."
The wind above the tower turned still—no longer violent, no longer heavy.
For the first time in what felt like hours… there was peace.
Kael remained kneeling beside his fractured reflection. Cursed Kael—if that name still applied—lay still, no longer boiling with red mana, no longer oozing corruption. His body had begun to fade, gently. Not dissolving into mist, but becoming translucent. Unburdened.
"I was… tired," the fading voice said, softer now. "Tired of screaming where no one could hear."
Kael bowed his head. "I hear you now."
A pulse answered—not from the broken figure, but from beside him.
Rimuru.
Her glow brightened gradually, not in urgency—but in rhythm. Soft, steady, alive. The air around her shimmered with blue-gold spirals, like fireflies dancing through silk.
She floated forward—toward the space where the corrupted version of Kael had been.
And without a word… embraced it.
Her body wrapped gently around the fractured remnants of the shadow Kael. No attack. No purge. Just presence. Warmth. Forgiveness.
Kael watched, motionless, as light flowed outward in concentric rings, washing across the platform. The last fragments of shadow peeled away—not violently, but like dusk giving way to dawn.
Rimuru turned to Kael—her form returning to normal.
Round. Soft. Familiar.
She bounced once, gently, before floating back to his shoulder.
And then—Kael felt it.
A resonance deeper than battle. Deeper than mana.
Something inside him realigned.
Not a new skill. Not an upgrade.
A balance.
The part of him that grieved.
And the part that led.
[RIMURU FULLY SYNCED]
[SUBCONSCIOUS DUALITY STABILIZED]
[PSYCHIC THREAD CREATED: MEMORY LINK ENABLED]
Kael blinked. "Wait… memory link?"
Rimuru pulsed affirmatively.
And suddenly—
Kael saw a flash.
Her memories.
Brief. Blurry. But there.
—The first time she felt Kael's warmth.
—The moment she feared losing him to the predator spiral.
—The feeling of joy when he said "I trust you, too."
—The pride she carried, every time she floated beside him.
Kael's breath caught.
"You remember me?"
Rimuru pulsed.
Kael chuckled softly, rubbing the corner of his eye. "Damn it. You're not supposed to be the emotional one."
She bounced into his face.
Boink.
He flinched. "Okay, okay. Deserved."
The sky above flared once.
The world around them cracked—not from danger, but from release.
The dream was ending.
[Dream Anchor Disengaging]
[Psychic Layer Stabilized]
[Exit Path Restored]
Kael stood slowly, Rimuru circling him one last time like a ribbon of light.
He turned toward the edge of the spire—toward the sunrise glowing beyond the dream horizon.
The weight was still there.
But it was his to carry now.
Not buried.
Not chained.
Just... accepted.
Kael took one final breath.
And stepped forward.
Kael stepped into the light.
It wasn't like waking up—not yet.
The transition was slower. Smoother. As if the dream itself no longer wanted to fight him. As if the nightmare had finished screaming and now simply wanted to exhale.
Behind him, the tower began to fall apart—but not violently. Like a glacier finally melting after centuries. Its layers—memories, fears, echoes—peeled away into strands of mana and song, unraveling into the wind.
Ahead, the horizon spread out like a blooming canvas.
He didn't see Emberleaf yet.
Just radiance.
An open field of glowing white light laced with blue, where the sky no longer pulsed in red or bled shadows, but shimmered like morning mist above snow.
And at the center of that field—
A wave.
Not made of water.
Not made of slime.
A memory-wave, tall as a mountain and wide as a world.
Composed entirely of light.
Of moments.
Kael saw it coming, but didn't brace.
He understood.
This wasn't destruction.
This was cleansing.
Rimuru hovered beside him, and without words, floated forward. She pulsed once—bright and strong—and positioned herself between Kael and the wave.
Her entire body glowed white-blue now.
She was the core.
The wave reached them—and passed through.
—
Time slowed.
Kael closed his eyes as the memories washed over him—not his own this time, but shared ones. Pieces of everyone he had consumed through Predator, now released, not as ghosts, but as stories:
—A goblin singing while repairing shoes.
—A Raveni beastkin girl sketching constellations.
—A bandit who once wanted to be a healer.
—A wild slime who felt joy mimicking bird calls.
One by one, their memories returned to the wind.
Not erased.
Not stolen.
Returned.
Rimuru trembled slightly, her body absorbing and translating the energy.
Kael reached out and gently cupped her.
"It's okay," he whispered. "Let it go."
And she did.
The light around them surged once—high, final, absolute.
Then—
Silence.
Kael opened his eyes.
The wave was gone.
So was the tower.
So was the battlefield.
He stood on a still, moonlit surface.
A ripple of soft blue light stretched in every direction—like the inside of a calm lake at night.
And above—
A star.
Not one from Velaria.
Not one he'd seen in Emberleaf's sky.
A new star.
Small. Gentle.
A memorial.
[Cleansing Complete]
[Memory Load: Balanced]
[Predator Stability: 97%]
[Emotional Trauma: Resolved]
[Lucid Dream Arc – COMPLETE]
Kael exhaled.
Not in exhaustion.
In peace.
The dream began to dissolve around him—not in terror, but like curtains falling after a play.
Rimuru curled into his shoulder, her glow fading gently to its usual rhythm.
Kael whispered:
"…See you on the other side."
And the world blinked out—
Kael's eyes opened.
Not jolted.
Not gasping.
Just… opened.
The ceiling above him was wooden. Familiar. Cracked in the same place it always had been—where a goblin had thrown a book too hard two months ago. A vine curled lazily around the corner of the support beam. The faint smell of moss, ink, and morning dew drifted through the open window.
His bedroll was soft beneath his back.
His fingertips were cold.
His breath was real.
Kael blinked slowly. He didn't sit up. Not yet.
He just let the silence wrap around him.
No mana pressure.
No cursed reflections.
Just birdsong.
And breathing.
He turned his head slightly.
There—by the corner of his mattress—hovered Rimuru.
Curled. Dim. Calm.
She wasn't pulsing. She was resting.
But when she sensed him stir, she blinked softly and floated over—settling just beneath his hand. Kael let his fingers trail over her back.
"Hey," he rasped, voice dry.
She nudged his thumb.
"I'm… back."
A pulse.
He smiled—just barely.
Then the door creaked.
Kael tensed instinctively—but only for a second.
"Boss?" came Gobrinus's voice—groggy, hesitant. "Uh, Nana said you've been asleep for, like… sixteen hours. So, uh… breakfast is cold. But I saved you a biscuit?"
Kael closed his eyes and laughed, softly.
Rimuru bounced once in his hand.
"Tell Nana I'll be down soon," Kael called out, still lying flat. "Tell her I had a long dream about existential self-annihilation and emotional reconstruction."
"…I'm just gonna say 'bad dream,'" Gobrinus muttered. The door clicked shut again.
Kael chuckled again. Then stared at the ceiling.
No burden.
No fanfare.
Just rest.
Just breathing.
And after everything—he let himself feel it.
Relief.
The sun peeked through the branches of the Heartroot Tree, casting golden light across the upper platforms of Kael's treehouse. Birds chirped lazily between the canopy. Somewhere below, a hammer rang out against wood. Goblin voices called instructions, followed by a loud crash and Gobchi yelling something about "creative scaffolding."
Kael sat on the edge of his balcony, legs dangling over empty air, wearing the same sleeveless tunic he always reached for on slow mornings. His hair was still messy. His mana circuits still groggy.
But for the first time in a while… he felt okay.
Rimuru perched beside him, bobbing slightly with each breeze. She sparkled just a little brighter today. Not as a flare of magic, but like someone proud of a job well done.
"You didn't let me drown," Kael said.
She pulsed gently.
"I didn't let myself drown, either."
Another pulse.
Kael leaned back on his palms, breathing in the scent of morning dew and toasted bread from below. The Emberleaf kitchens were still figuring out how to make pancakes without fire spirits accidentally caramelizing the floors, but they were improving.
A knock echoed from the hallway behind him.
"Come in," Kael called.
Nana poked her head through the wooden door. Her robe was too big for her, and one of her braids was still half undone. "I made you tea," she said, holding a wobbling cup with two hands. "It's the calming kind. Rimuru gave me the right herbs. She said you'd need them."
Kael blinked.
Rimuru pretended to be looking at the sky.
Kael smiled and took the cup. "Thanks."
Nana hesitated. "Was it a nightmare?"
Kael looked out over the forest.
"No," he said after a moment. "It was something I had to remember."
Nana nodded. "That sounds like a weird kind of nightmare."
Kael sipped.
The tea was bitter.
He didn't mind.
A goblin sprinted past the window screaming about a slime explosion in the herb garden.
Kael sighed.
Rimuru bounced into his lap and settled like a weighted pillow.
"I'm glad I'm here," Kael said quietly. "All of it… it's worth it."
And for a few precious minutes, the world didn't ask anything of him.
Not as a king.
Not as a Scourge.
Just as Kael.