Message from the Abyss
"Even they have some shame, preparing us a better safehouse and all."
"[Safe] house, that is—though I have my fundamental doubts about that label."
The Luddite riots fused with communism. And the Thames & Bray department store terror by Anastasis. It had already been three days since those events unfolded.
In the meantime, nothing major had happened aside from being provided this new hideout. Sure, there were minor tidbits like Transco going berserk and mobilizing massive forces to tear up Slough. Or the aristocratic lawmakers in the House of Nobles officially approving warrantless arrests and summary executions of communists. Or Anastasis and Transco reinforcing their troops and staring each other down, teetering on the brink of all-out war.
"You've skipped breakfast too, so you must be hungry. Shall I prepare a meal right away—"
"Nah, no appetite. I'll just grab some tea-time snacks later."
Thanks to all that, worries were bubbling up again about corporate war spilling over London once more. The stock market's worst crash since Prime Minister Yang Lettuce had at least ensured an abundant supply of eel rice along the Thames.
If both sides started economic sanctions on each other's territories, the number of divers would skyrocket even more. Eel jelly yields would be bountiful this year.
But whatever—put that aside for now.
"So listless..."
My murmur leaked out as I sprawled on the long sofa. Then I felt a soft mass against my cheek twitch.
A faint lavender scent wafted up, soothing my mind a little, but not quite enough.
I'd awakened something by accident, taken down Anastasis assassins, but so what? Played pawn to my so-called partners, had my achievements snatched away, a comrade endangered—and not only couldn't I fix it, I just sat there like an idiot getting toyed with right in front of me.
Feeling pathetic and powerless, I sighed, and Bell placed her hand on my head resting on her thigh, stroking it gently.
"Please don't take it too hard, young master. If you steadfastly overcome these trials, opportunity will come someday."
"...Thanks, Bell. I'd be lost without you. For real."
Honestly, her comfort didn't quite hit home. But I meant the thanks from the heart. She gave her all to support me when I couldn't do a damn thing for her in return—that always filled me with gratitude words couldn't express.
"So... for now, leave everything to me and rest easy. If it helps you regain your strength, I can serve you in any way."
Bell's hand swept over my crown, tousling my hair. She twisted a few strands from the side, kneaded my earlobe and cheek, then slipped a finger just into the entrance of my ear canal.
The finger swirled inside, making a faint scratching sound.
"Hoo—"
"Eek."
As the finger withdrew, warm breath blew in its place. The tickling breeze made my body float a bit, and she hummed contentedly, fiddling with my ear again.
Normally, I'd be pulling away by now, mumbling about embarrassment. But right then, I just wanted to surrender my body to her.
Rustling sounds filled my ears up close. The pleasant texture and scent drained the tension from my limbs. Her warmth was perfectly temperate—probably adjusted on purpose.
"Are you getting sleepy, young master?"
"Yeah, feeling drowsy. Can't nap in broad daylight, though..."
"I'm fine with it, so take a quick nap. That vulgar woman's absent right now anyway."
"Don't say that... Yawn—ah, screw it. I'll catch a wink."
"Yes. Sweet dreams. Feels nostalgic, like old times. Hehe."
Hearing Bell's oddly cheerful laugh, I closed my eyes and let myself sink into her comforting touch and warmth.
Even the darkened view blurred soon after, my mind scattering like it was being pulled away. I nodded off a few times in her embrace before plunging into sleep.
There's a saying: 'Dreams are messages from the abyss.' Not particularly philosophical or psychologically profound, but since dreams can reflect one's inner anxieties or fears, maybe there's something to it—I'd thought that once and moved on.
But now? Time to reconsider. If it's true, how the hell do I interpret what I'm seeing?
"Have I been that stressed lately?"
I looked around. This dreamscape—or whatever—was pure chaos. Lightning cracked the sky, waves churned a black, oily sea into whirlpools spewing white foam. Some ecosystem lurked within: wriggling horrors filled my view.
A massive anglerfish with dozens of eyes clustered like a honeycomb gaped wide, devouring small fish. Gurgle gurgle.
Peering closer at those fish, they had human-like faces—but single-eyed, with elongated philtrums giving an ape-like impression. As the angler swallowed one, countless pupils reflected those cyclopean faces like mirrors.
Then tentacles burst from the fish's eyes, absorbing not just its body but the black sea itself, stretching into tree-like forms.
"What the...?"
Thousands, millions of branches pierced the sky. They intertwined into a colossal tree, golden leaves blooming to illuminate the surroundings—no, the entire dream world.
So blinding I thought I'd go blind.
"Urgh..."
Squinting, I barely made out the scene. The tree grew enormous, sucking up the sea; root-like tentacles sprouted flowers. Creepy faces lurked inside the petals, smiling grotesquely.
Despite the horror, a deep calm welled up from within.
"For my subconscious, the references are weird... Uh... uh...?"
But the tree's peace didn't last. Golden leaves faded, drifting down. The trunk turned chalky gray, cracking with sharp creaks.
Kiiiiek, kiiiiiiiiieee!!
The flowers wept blood-tears, screaming. I clamped my ears, but the grating shrieks echoed in my skull.
The tree shattered into dust clouds. Flowers and tentacles withered black and rotten.
I was... confused what to feel. Awe? Grotesque? Futility? Or just write it off as a bullshit dream?
Weird dream sequences aren't rare, but this felt tied to me somehow. No reason, no evidence—just a gut sense.
Whoosh—
Remaining leaves fluttered weakly and fell. One brushed past; I snatched it mid-air, examined it closely. A plain little leaf with faint golden glow.
Turning it over, my body suddenly resonated, glowing gold too.
Panicking, I dropped it. The leaf crumbled like dry tinder; surrounding gold swirled, shaping a human silhouette.
Moments later, a luminous figure stood before me. I stared—and froze in shock.
It wore my face.
Doppelganger chills hit, but simultaneously, a near-certainty: that's me.
You consider speaking to yourself, but sense this encounter is but a fleeting instant. So you simply smile at yourself. By then, you're already surfacing from the abyss—maybe you saw it, maybe not.
But the day you'll meet yourself again is inevitable. You sink back into the unconscious underlayers, hoping next time for longer, a real conversation.
You fade with the golden glow.