Eldritch Horror Theatre

This path was a dead end. Even with a guide, it wouldn’t work.

The meaning behind that sudden change was incredibly easy to grasp.

That door was undoubtedly a manifestation of Su Gao’s control over the dream realm.

She was truly gifted in this regard. Their walk hadn’t lasted long at all, yet she had already managed to pull it off.

As for pushing the door open and stepping through, the resulting scene was even more fascinating.

Just like last time, the scope of the Lucid Dream Fu Qian selected was strictly limited to the Laboratory.

After instructing Su Gao, he retracted his own will to the greatest possible extent while she carried out all these operations, avoiding any interference.

Under these circumstances, what the scene would look like once the door opened was undoubtedly what he anticipated most.

The most boring possibility was that it would mirror his own previous experience: a natural extension of the dream’s boundaries, where she would step right through this conjured door to enjoy the scenery of the Academy.

A better outcome would be arriving at the edge of the dream as he had previously perceived it—a place shrouded in Mist—and then trying to push deeper, searching for traces resembling the Mind World of intelligent beings.But Classmate Su Gao always managed to bring surprises. That suffocating pitch-blackness was absolutely not just a denser patch of Mist.

As a dream Sovereign, Fu Qian was quite certain of this.

In fact, the very moment he witnessed that scene, Fu Qian could sense the entire dream slipping slightly out of his control.

Specifically, the boundaries had vanished.

That’s right. Not only could it churn up whirlpools like tangible water, but that darkness seemed to stretch on infinitely, expanding outward like the deep sea.

Compared to that boundlessness, the place he currently occupied couldn’t even be considered an isolated island in the ocean; it was more like a sunken ship that had fallen to some unknown depth.

And with that single step forward, Su Gao was like a fish slipping its bindings, freely returning to its depths—while his own broken ship was simply tossed out.

...

The sheer extreme of this differential treatment was practically outrageous.

He had sensed very little—far too little to confirm that it was indeed the Mind World he had once tried to use as a shortcut.

However, the excessively swift and decisive rejection that followed actually proved the point to some extent.

It truly seemed unwelcoming to an outsider like him.

Yet at the same time, in a place that should have been far more profound than the depths of an ordinary person’s mind—the Ancient Gods’ Burial Ground—he hadn’t faced much rejection while walking through it after the Red Moon opened the door for him.

Was it because the Red Moon was simply too powerful, or was there some other unknown reason?

It certainly sparked the imagination.

As for why the darkness had suddenly vanished at the end, giving way to a sunny day at the Academy—when combined with Su Gao’s current state, the answer was very clear.

She hadn’t woken up. Instead, in that moment, the dream had directly split into two.

Since he was unwelcome, and Su Gao had come into contact with that darkness, they had simply gone their separate ways to prevent the place from being tainted.

He was no longer present in the dream where Su Gao was Sovereign.

And the place where he currently stood had once again reverted into a boring theme park.

It wasn’t entirely a bad thing. At least Classmate Su Gao seemed to be sleeping quite soundly, right?

After a busy night, this was shaping up to be a pretty good morning no matter how you looked at it.

As for the additional tests he could theoretically run—such as handing the Umbilical Cord over to Su Gao to see if anything special would happen when she walked into the darkness...

It was certainly an idea, but as mentioned earlier, Classmate Su Gao’s constitution was simply too unique. Before having her hold onto that kind of filthy thing for testing, he had to do his best to ensure there was no danger involved.

For now, he might as well let her sleep a little longer.

Shaking his head, Fu Qian finished the tea in his cup and casually took off his mask.

...

[Warning: Containment Breach]

There was no sense of time inside The Ark; before he knew it, it had already been two days since his last visit to the Warehouse.

As the gloom reappeared, Fu Qian’s gaze immediately fell upon the generic, unbranded paper cup in front of him.

Even though he had already accepted this premise, seeing it again still made him sigh—it was simply too undignified.

Amidst his lament, the Warehouse’s notifications dutifully arrived.

Of course, it had already chimed once when he retrieved the Crown earlier, but he had simply ignored it.

[Name: Virgo, Designation: 2-001]

[Today’s work assignment has been updated. Enter the Containment Scenario for 2-001 and complete the re-containment.]

Oh?

A mission starting with a 2 was certainly a welcome sight, but this particular designation was a bit unique.

In the next moment, Fu Qian felt a hint of curiosity stir within him.

Up until now, he hadn’t paid much attention to the designations of the objects awaiting containment, aside from relying on the leading one, two, or three to roughly gauge the difficulty level. There didn’t seem to be any other special significance to them.

But regardless, it was 001. A special number like that inevitably brought a little extra anticipation.

That said, the illusory projection in the Warehouse was still quite abstract.

Wisps and strands curled around it like coiled locks of long, slender hair, to the point where one could almost sense soft, feminine curves within.

Yet upon closer inspection, it felt like looking at an extreme abstract painting; it was truly difficult to pick out any actual human features from the silhouette.

Moreover, the cold light refracting off its surface seemed to genuinely chill anyone who looked at it.

[Consume 1 SAN Value to begin?]

[Yes]

While silently reviewing it, Fu Qian casually confirmed.

[Entering Containment Scenario 2-001]

[Current SAN Value: 125, Current inspiration: 99]

[Select the skills and items you wish to bring]

It still adhered to its friendly style without imposing any extra restrictions. As Fu Qian skillfully selected everything and confirmed, the mission officially began.

[...8%...13%...21%...34%...55%...89%...100%, Containment Scenario loaded]

[This is an isolated island far from the mainland, one of the pivot points for the Siren Group’s maritime dominance.

No matter from what position or in what direction one looks, the only thing that meets the eye and the heart is profound desolation.

Even the massive ships that occasionally rise from the black waters only serve to intensify this feeling.

Of course, among those permanently stationed on this island, some don’t have to worry about seeing any of this.

Because aside from serving as a transit and supply base, this place is also a despair-inducing prison.

Even though the conflicts of interest between corporate groups rarely escalate to the point of utter extermination, Siren is still perfectly happy to go through the trouble of bringing their captives here, confining them deep underwater.

Stripped of even the right to feel loneliness, their sense of self is gradually worn away.

It is said that those fortunate enough to be ransomed are left with a greater sense of benevolence toward transcendent creatures.

Because throughout that unimaginably long torment, only the occasional sound of a mermaid’s song could help the prisoners cling to a slight sense of their own existence.]