Mindscape
“…I didn’t expect to dream so soon.”
I had never been the type to dream much. Even in the orphanage I rarely dreamed, and it had been the same in my previous life.
Who would have thought that the moment I asked Major Krüger how to become a Star, I would fall into a dream like this?
I had prayed so desperately inside. Had the goddess actually heard me?
Hmm. Maybe I should work on my faith a little.
Still… what a landscape.
A chessboard stretched out inside the dream. Black and white squares ran on without end, yet the board that should have been flat was warped into wild curves.
Places that rose like mountains coexisted with holes that plunged straight through the floor, and the sight made my head spin.
A little farther away the squares folded twice at right angles and climbed all the way to the ceiling; farther still they flipped again and joined the underside of the board.
Gravity itself seemed to have lost its sense of direction. A rook stood sideways on a vertical wall, and a knight buried half its body in the ceiling while its legs kept running.
Wait… legs?
Good heavens.
Click.
The pieces were moving. Even though I had not touched them, they moved on their own.
Honestly, it was a little frightening.
Without rules or turns, every piece shoved, toppled, and moved again in random directions all at once.
And after a short while those pieces began to change into human shapes.
Faceless figures in military uniforms crawled toward one another on broken arms and legs. They tried to kill each other, reaching out so they could climb back onto the board.
Well, I seem to be safe, at least.
The reason I was safe? I was looking down on the entire scene from the air.
Was I the player?
I reached out to move a white pawn that had not yet turned into a person. The instant my hand stretched forward, the whole board tilted and countless pieces began sliding toward me at once.
I was in the air, and at the same time I was on the floor.
Gravity felt wrong.
The white pawn I had tried to move ignored gravity and advanced somewhere, meeting a large black rook.
For some reason I liked that black rook very much.
I wanted to move it. I wanted to have it. So I reached for the black rook, but I could not touch it.
Irritation flared.
Still seething, I stretched my hand farther. My arm and fingers began to lengthen grotesquely.
And just before I finally touched the black rook—
Crack.
A fissure split the chessboard and the white pawn fell through.
The crack raced across black and white squares alike until the entire board shattered.
Beneath the broken gap there was nothing.
No light, no floor, no end—only black space.
You will not be able to catch it.
You will fall.
You are still…
.
.
.
With that unknown voice I opened my eyes.
“Winterland!”
“Hhk….”
I gasped for breath. My chest heaved. It felt as if someone were squeezing my heart.
My body was on fire. Sweat covered my face, my neck, my entire body. Everything was damp. The bed and my clothes were soaked through.
“Are you all right? Can you hear me?”
“…Yes.”
“You stopped breathing.”
Saying that, she pressed a mana inhaler to my mouth.
Sss, haah…
White smoke appeared.
My breathing steadied.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“…Yes.”
A nightmare… a nightmare.
I wasn’t sure I could call it that.
Already the memory was scattering.
I had to grab my diary and write the dream down at once.
Diary, where did I put the diary? The bag! Where’s the bag?
I immediately reached for the bag beside the bed, but just before my fingers touched it Sergeant Misty stopped me.
“Where do you think you’re going right now?”
“Th-the diary in the bag….”
“Lie down.”
“…But.”
“Corporal Winterland, lie down.”
I obediently lay back again.
Were all spirits this fond of children and this stubborn?
The moment anything touched my life or health she became completely uncompromising, like a human who knew no middle ground. Definitely not my type.
This was too much.
I wanted quiet, continuous attention—not an openly obsessive nanny!
Sergeant Misty laid a hand on my forehead to check my temperature, then examined my pulse and breathing.
Her hand was cold; every time it touched me the skin around it trembled.
“You have a slight fever.”
“…….”
“I’ll call a medic first.”
Just because I had a nightmare and my temperature went up a little she was calling a medic? Seriously?
Oh. She really is.
Before long the military doctor arrived. After checking me over he showed far more interest in my right leg than in the fever.
He removed the splint, pressed the swollen ankle, and moved it this way and that. It hurt so much tears almost sprang out!
“On a scale of one to ten, the pain is….”
“Ten.”
“Mm. I need to see how far it goes, so I’ll continue.”
“…….”
I clenched my teeth hard.
The examination showed no fracture—only a stretched ligament. The old injury had been aggravated, so I was to wait until I could walk on my own. That was the result.
I was told it would take roughly three or four days before I could walk alone, and that I would be combat-ready again in a week.
Ha, a whole week?
“No missions, no front-line access, and of course no magic.”
“Yes. Understood.”
“…You look like you want to leave. If you hate being alive that much, go ahead and walk out.”
“No, sir. I’ll rest properly for a week.”
“Good.”
The doctor must have heard my history from Sergeant Misty or Master Sergeant Müller.
Well, contrary to his expectations I had no desire to leave right now.
That insane mobile fortress is still up front. Rear is definitely better for the moment.
Rest comfortably for a week and record the dreams.
That was the plan for now.
Thank goodness I had magical aptitude.
Any other soldier without it would have been sent straight back to the front with this injury, yet I was getting special care.
Mages were scarce enough that numbers were always tight.
They weren’t so overflowing with resources that they would shove a rifle into a soldier with a bad leg and throw him at the front.
Anyway, a few days passed and I was moved to a combat-return waiting tent a short distance from the Second Defense Line.
Soldiers with light wounds, soldiers who had lost their hearing to shell shock, soldiers exposed to gas, soldiers with fever.
It was the kind of place where the not-too-seriously injured stayed a few days before heading back to the line.
There were twelve beds inside the tent; half were empty, and the other half held only bandages, uniforms, and bags with no people in them.
Not a private room, yet it felt almost like one.
Sergeant Misty looked at me for a moment, then turned away.
“I’m going to the forward observation post.”
“Without me?”
“I’ll temporarily join another sniper team. I can’t just sit around as well.”
“…….”
“I have to confirm the position of Construction Star’s advancing fortress and the new defense line.”
Ha. With the residual heat concentration down, even Misty’s ambiguous expression looked acceptable.
“Don’t get hurt.”
I casually tossed out the bait, and she took it at once.
As expected, an easy spirit to handle.
Sergeant Misty hesitated for a second, then turned back to look at me. The speed of her reaction was almost startling.
“Are you… worried about me?”
“Yes.”
“…….”
“Ah, if that was overstepping, I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s fine.”
Sergeant Misty’s expression slowly settled, and she put the mask back on.
Hmm. Now? Isn’t it a little late for that?
“Don’t leave the tent, and use the inhaler only the prescribed number of times. I’ll be back before sunset.”
“Yes. Understood.”
“Absolutely no magic.”
“…Yes.”
“I’ll trust that you’re not just answering and planning to break the rule again.”
I nodded.
Ah, that stung. Did I really deserve this much suspicion? I thought I’d been doing a pretty good job of playing the obedient good child.
She stared at me with doubtful eyes for a long time before finally leaving the tent.
Her footsteps faded. I held my breath and waited until I could no longer hear them.
Only when I could no longer sense Misty at all did I sit bolt upright on the bed.
Alone at last!
I immediately pulled the diary from my bag.
Time to record!
The pieces that moved without rules, the twisted chessboard, the white pawn and the black rook, the world that cracked just before I touched it, the unknown voice.
You will not be able to catch it, you will fall, you are still…? Is that right?
Pen in hand, I wrote down everything I remembered in the cursive I had practiced so hard.
And I wrote the emotions as well.
I had been concentrating on the diary for quite a while when I felt a presence behind me.
Someone opened the tent flap and came in.
It was far too early for Sergeant Misty to return, so probably another wounded soldier or a medic….
Who is it?
I reflexively turned my head to look behind me.
Who is it really?
Uh, a stranger.
Oddly familiar face, though….
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