The false dream shattered. Her true soul descended—down, down, deeper still—until it reached the place where all truths lay.

Jiang Jiu awoke.

She opened her eyes and beheld the light.

Pure radiance cascaded from the zenith, unfolding before her. Within it, countless interconnected lines twisted and writhed in chaotic, unpredictable motion, as if alive.

Then, a faintly mechanical voice whispered in her ear:

"Welcome to the true Witch's Night, honored Witch Lady."

Jiang Jiu fell silent for a moment. Having endured so much within the false dream, her mind simply couldn’t catch up right away.

"So this… is the real Witch's Night?" she asked once her thoughts cleared. "Then what was that dream I just lived?"

"A false dream."

"False dream?"

"Yes."

The voice—seemingly the will of Witch's Night itself—affirmed:

"Witch's Night has housed all anomalies for a millennium. Being a dream itself, it inevitably absorbed and was tainted by the dreams of those within.

Negative emotions from anomalies gave birth to the Mad Sovereign. It slowly eroded Witch's Night’s core logic, vying for control. Fortunately, its progress was slow and suppressed by the Silent Witch, allowing Witch's Night to barely function.

But suppression was never a cure. After the Silent Witch liberated Witch's Night, the Mad Sovereign seized the chance to weave that false dream, pulling in all dreamwalkers contesting control.

In truth, the others had already fallen and been expelled early on.

Only three remained… and those three rewrote fate itself, vanquished the Mad Sovereign, and reclaimed control of Witch's Night.

You were one of them, honored Witch Lady."

The voice bowed respectfully.

Before Jiang Jiu, the tangled polyhedron of straight lines shifted intricately, gradually forming a humanoid silhouette—plump, gentle-faced, crowned, yet neither foolish nor comical like fairy tale kings.

A pale king woven purely of lines appeared. He bowed deeply, hand pressed to his chest in utmost reverence.

Jiang Jiu accepted the gesture calmly but frowned slightly. "So… you are the king? And you are…"

"I am not the king," the pale figure shook his head. "That dream-dweller was noble. I am unworthy of comparison."

"I am the consciousness born from Witch's Night itself after containing all anomalies—a mimicry of sentient logic. In truth, I am Witch's Night."

"…"

In moments, the pale king delivered staggering revelations: about Witch's Night, the Fairy Tale Kingdom dream, even the king himself…

Yet deliberately or not, he sidestepped the question burning in Jiang Jiu’s heart.

"Then what is the truth?" Jiang Jiu asked, face unreadable. "The truth behind Witch's Night… behind the Fairy Tale Kingdom?"

The pale king seemed to anticipate this.

He extended a hand.

Lines squirmed, converged, and solidified into a perfect sphere.

"This is a dream," he said to Jiang Jiu. "And the truth itself."

Gazing at the sphere, Jiang Jiu felt sorrow, pain, resolve, sacrifice—and final peace.

As if a great soul lingered within, meeting her eyes.

"Use it after you leave Witch's Night," the pale king offered the dream. "Then you shall know all you seek."

Jiang Jiu reached for it—but the moment her fingers neared, the luminous sphere shattered, dissolved, and flowed into her current form as countless threads.

*Good,* she thought.

At least she wouldn’t worry about carrying a formless dream out.

She looked up at the pale king. "After I leave… will the Fairy Tale Kingdom dream collapse?"

"No," the will of Witch's Night replied respectfully. "But it will reset—like every time you enter a dream."

"Is there any way… to let the Fairy Tale Kingdom continue exactly as it is now?"

"Difficult."

"So… possible?"

The pale king paused. "The dream-dwellers forming the kingdom’s core are native to Witch's Night—no issue there. But the story’s protagonists—you, the prince, the dragon—are external dreamwalkers. Once you depart, their roles vanish forever.

A story without its heroes loses meaning.

Unless… you leave another self within the Witch's Dream."

"Another self?"

"Yes. Extract a fragment of your will and persona. Reshape a version of your role. Then the story may continue."

"Do it," Jiang Jiu nodded without hesitation.

The will of Witch's Night fell silent—a rare pause, as if perplexed by her resolve—then bowed. "I must first consult the other two dreamwalkers… Please wait."

"Hmm."

The pale king vanished, collapsing back into the chaotic polyhedron, glowing faintly in silence.

Jiang Jiu waited patiently—but not long. Soon, the voice returned:

"By your will, the other two dreamwalkers have agreed. Time within the Fairy Tale Kingdom will resume flowing once you depart."

"Good."

Jiang Jiu nodded, then asked curiously, "May I know their identities?"

"Certainly."

The pale king raised a hand. Lines swirled, revealing the real-world forms of the other two.

"So… it was her," Jiang Jiu murmured. She waved, erasing the lines. "And Pandora? I came for her. Where is she?"

"Just ahead," the pale king smiled. "Walk a little farther. You will find her."

"I see."

Jiang Jiu nodded, then waved listlessly. "Then… goodbye."

The pale king said nothing, only standing respectfully as Jiang Jiu slowly faded into the surrounding darkness.

…

Beneath Witch's Night lay endless, absolute black—lightless, directionless, timeless.

Ordinary minds would lose all sense of path and drift in circles.

But not Jiang Jiu.

She had grasped Witch's Dream’s rule: "forward" was not physical, but will.

Believe you move forward—you arrive.

Still…

Like snow blindness, could a dreamer’s eyes tire from monochrome void?

Searching endlessly for focus… until vision fails.

*Do androids dream of electric sheep?*

Amid scattered thoughts, a faint glow appeared ahead—square, oddly shaped, strangely familiar.

She stepped closer, squinted.

Whoa.

No wonder it felt familiar. A coffin. Crystal.

Clear and flawless—except where its edges warped slightly against the dream. Jiang Jiu might’ve thought Pandora floated midair.

She slept deeply, eyes closed, pure-white lashes glittering like snowflakes. Last time, starlight veiled her face; now, in slumber, her hidden visage was revealed.

Jiang Jiu sat sideways on the coffin, leaned down, and whispered:

"So alike… incredibly alike."

*This moment mirrors that one.*

Sitting on Silent Witch Pandora’s crystal coffin, just as she once watched Silent Witch Lilith in the bar.

Silent Witch… Silent One… Pandora… Lilith…

She should’ve realized sooner.

Nearly identical faces—only hair, lashes, and eyes differed in hue.

No wonder Lilith, so cold to all else, sent her here to save this Silent Witch.

Jiang Jiu hopped down, placed both hands on the sliding crystal lid, and pushed firmly.

"Snow White? Or Sleeping Beauty?" she murmured, then rested her chin on her arms, gazing at Pandora.

Even awake from the Fairy Tale Kingdom dream… deep within Witch's Night, rules still followed fairy tale logic.

So what came next was obvious.

A soft light brushed gently over them.

And just like that, all returned to how it once was.

The little princess, crown gleaming, leaned down and pressed a careful kiss to the Silent Witch’s forehead—awakening her long-dormant spirit and soul.

Then, softly, she called her name:

"Awaken, my dragon."

After a breath of silence, a vast shadow rose silently, enfolding the little princess in its wings.

"As you wish, my little princess."

[To be continued]