Her name—

The Nightmare Demon, the little girl Agatha, or the airheaded (scratch that) naturally clumsy one. These were the names Agatha bore back in the Demonic Realm. As someone who could trip on perfectly flat ground—a true connoisseur of flat-surface falls (!)—Agatha hated nothing more than rolling hills and all sorts of irregular obstacles.

Bathed in a soft glow, she floated mid-air. White lily petals peeled off from around the room, swirling around her like dancers. This was a unique gift inherited from her fairy bloodline—those petals weren't just for show; they made excellent tools for attack and defense.

Pink light filled the room, mingling with an enchanting fragrance and a soft glow that felt like a dream. Breaths, pauses, and swift, seamless transitions flowed from her throat. Her ethereal song echoed, as if pulling souls into an eternal void.

"Drown in endless hellish nightmares! In the name of the little girl—no, in the name of Nightmare Agatha, bestow upon the defilers the terror of infinite cycles!"

"This is for bullying me!" As the glittering powder settled on the girls, the little girl in the sky let out a soft snort and vanished into thin air.

Nevia had a dream. In fact, not just her—Nina, Alyssa, and Celia were all drawn into this dreamscape.

Nevia found herself in a topsy-turvy dream, where left and right were tangled. Black-and-white checkered patterns surrounded her, along with strange objects. It felt gravity-less, and Nevia floated in this bizarre space.

Like crisscrossing zebra crossings, flashing neon lights, and desk lamps missing their bulbs. Wait, could a lamp without a bulb even be called a lamp?

Just like, could a boy turned girl still be called a boy?

Who am I? Where do I come from? Where am I going?

Lost in these sudden philosophical thoughts, Nevia grabbed a black-and-white TV floating by, its screen flickering with static.

Come to think of it, why was the TV floating? And why did it have wings?

With effort, she climbed onto the TV, then struggled to stand up. Just as she straightened, the world flipped again. Nevia found herself upside down, head down and feet up in a weird pose.

Luckily—Nevia preferred wearing long pants—but the next moment, she realized she was in pajamas. Instinctively, she clutched the hem of her skirt.

Yet, defying gravity, her pajamas clung tightly to her body. Her golden, silky hair didn't flow downward; even her feet stayed firmly planted on the TV's top.

But the sensation of being upside down felt so real that Nevia couldn't shake the feeling that this was actually happening.

The TV floated in mid-air. More bizarre objects drifted past. Nevia even spotted a floating game cartridge labeled “The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap.”

This was Nevia's favorite game cartridge back in elementary school, from her previous life.

Nevia jumped from the TV onto the game cartridge. Childhood memories flooded back like a tide. She seemed to recall many images she'd struggled to remember but kept forgetting.

Before her eyes appeared grayish-white text: “GAME BOY.” Familiar music echoed in her ears.

“I'm so glad I met you—” he had once said. But what happened after that?

Before her eyes were green trees. Birdsong filled her ears. Lush green leaves swayed in the wind.

Yet, at the edges of her vision lay only gray, chaotic void. Nevia stood on the ground, bare feet touching soft soil. The sensation was unreal—soft and slightly ticklish.

“Nevia!” A delighted voice called from beside her. Nevia turned to see Alyssa, clad in a nightgown, also on the grass. Almost simultaneously, she spotted Nina and Celia nearby.

They saw her too. Celia nodded in greeting, but her brow was furrowed. Nevia hurried over to join them.

Alyssa quickly followed Nevia, sticking close as usual, playing her role as the little sidekick. Nina, however, shot her a glance and moved closer to Celia.

“Sister Celia, where is this place?” Nina asked.

Undoubtedly, all of them shared this doubt.

“Hmm…” Celia frowned, pondering for a moment but reaching no conclusion. “It looks like a void space created by Spatial Magic, or perhaps a mental-type spell, but…”

Celia didn't continue. What was happening truly exceeded her understanding. She had sensed the surroundings immediately but detected no trace of magic. There were two possibilities: either this wasn't magic at all, or the caster's power vastly surpassed her own, making it undetectable.

Celia preferred the former—if it was just a magical artifact, she might still have a chance. But if it was an unimaginably powerful caster, Celia was ready to raise her hands in surrender.

“Hahaha…” A silvery laugh suddenly rang out. The gray space tore open, revealing a raging spatial storm. A woman appeared, clad in a gold-trimmed robe, wearing a diamond crown. Her voluptuous figure was alluring, and she gripped a massive golden staff.

She sat regally on a golden throne floating in mid-air. Armored soldiers clad in gold, silver, and diamond encircled her.

The soldiers held their spears level, tips pointed menacingly at the girls below.

Celia stepped forward, shielding the others. She relaxed her brow, staring directly at the seductive woman with feigned ease. But inside, her heart churned like a stormy sea.

For she couldn't sense this woman's depth at all. The other seemed nonexistent, leaving no trace in her spiritual perception.

“Who are you?” Celia asked coldly, while secretly channeling all her magic. At the slightest change, she was ready to unleash a full-force strike.

“I am Agatha, the King of Nothingness, the Sovereign of Dreams! Ignorant mortals, kneel before your king!” The woman lifted her chin slightly, gazing down with infinite authority.

“Hmph.” Celia snorted. “Did you bring us here? Agatha…”

Celia had never heard of Agatha, didn't know who she was. But she knew she couldn't show weakness now. Only by probing the other's intentions and strength could she protect herself and the girls.

“Silence! Call me Your Majesty!” Agatha suddenly roared, standing up from her throne in fury. But the next moment, her foot slipped. She seemed to step on something, losing balance. She flailed her arms wildly and fell straight forward.

Everyone froze in shock. Celia's prepared words died in her throat.

Nevia couldn't help but curl her lips, suppressing a laugh.

“…”

Floating mid-air, Agatha silently got up and wordlessly returned to her throne. Her expression unreadable—neither joy nor sorrow—she gazed coldly and quietly at the girls before her.

Silence hung heavy for a moment.

“Ahem… ahem…” Celia coughed a few times, breaking the silence. But before she could speak, Agatha waved her hand, cutting her off.

The girl's mouth opened and closed, moving up and down. Her expression was anxious and shocked, yet no sound came out.

“The gates of past and future have opened! The Morning Star has turned! Prepare to face the judgment of fate!” The woman declared coldly, her words prophetic. In her hand, a transparent crystal ball materialized as if on cue.

Nevia rolled her eyes inwardly. Just as she was about to say something, the woman named Agatha waved her hand dismissively, like shooing away a pesky insect. A bright golden light shot from her hand, enveloping them.

The next moment, with a flash of light, the girls and the young woman vanished from this space.

“Waaah… how embarrassing!” Seeing them gone, Agatha could no longer control her emotions. She covered her face, blushing crimson, tears welling up. She slumped over the huge throne, her body shifting from the seductive, alluring mature woman back to her previous adorable, pitiable little girl form.

“Just let me die! Don't try to stop me, I want to die!” The tiny little girl rolled around on the oversized throne, her voice pitiful and choked with sobs.