NFBE Chapter 415 [Empire] He once had a dream
Chapter 415 [Empire] He once had a dream
I don't know how long I slept, only that I drifted intermittently between dream and reality. Each time I regained consciousness, the scene before me seemed blurry, as if I were floating through one intertwined dream after another. I heard my own breathing and felt the softness of the sheets, but my mind kept flashing back to images that didn't belong in this world—the battles, the missions, and the endless pressure.
Each time I regained consciousness, the scene before me seemed different. It was a different space: an empty street, a pitch-black underground laboratory, even the ruins of a lost city. In each scene, I was pursuing some vague goal, or perhaps, rather, I was running from something. Whenever I approached that goal, the image vanished like a phantom in a dream, and I was left lost in the depths of the dream, unable to find the exit.
Occasionally, I could hear a sound outside, a gentle knock on the door, the whisper of a nightingale or someone else, like some kind of reminder, but each time I could only pretend it didn't occur to me. My brain felt like a heavy block of lead, and I couldn't escape the heavy burden. I could only float in the void with the fluctuations of consciousness.
Sometimes, in my dreams, I see Lin Hao's face. He stands before me, his mouth open but silent, his eyes filled with gratitude and innocence. And that feeling—gratitude—takes root deep within me, becoming heavy. It suffocates me, and I suddenly want to push him away, to distance myself from this emotion that doesn't belong to me.
Sometimes it was Wen Ya, still standing there with that gentle smile, but I couldn't discern the look in his eyes. It seemed like concern, but also a faint sense of loss. His figure drifted in my dreams, as if calling out to me inaudibly. That incomprehensible emotion made me want to escape.
Sometimes it was Shan Qi again, still dressed in that familiar couture suit, calm and resolute, his eyes gleaming with an unfathomable light. In my dreams, he seemed to be conveying some message, perhaps a mission, perhaps some silent hint. But every time I tried to approach him, he would turn away, leaving me with a blank stare.
Each dream was a burden, layered upon layer, and I couldn't distinguish what was real and what was an illusion. Between those dreams and reality, I felt like I was floating in an endless void, my consciousness precarious. Until one moment, a sudden silence broke this sinking feeling.
"you're awake."
Nightingale's voice came from outside the door, low and calm, as if confirming my complete unconscious state. He stood at the door, gently pushed it open, and walked in.
I opened my eyes slightly, my vision still hazy and the air seemed damp. I didn't answer, but simply looked at him silently, feeling a strange sense of security rising in my heart. Nightingale stood by the bed, watching me. After a moment, he said, "It's time to get up. The mission has changed."
I blinked, gradually coming to consciousness. Though I was still a little sleepy, those words instantly made me aware of my responsibilities. I sat up and stretched, suddenly feeling like this drowsy rest had recharged me, giving me some sense of recovery.
Nightingale didn't seem to be in a hurry. He walked to the side and sat down, saying lightly: "I know you didn't sleep well. Take a rest. When you are ready, we will take action." His words were simple, but revealed a firmness that was almost irrefutable.
I took a deep breath, trying to shake the heaviness of the dream from my body. The call of the mission, like a series of shrill alarms, gradually awakened me from my slumber.
The moment I got out of bed, I felt like I was being pulled hard by something, my consciousness kept sinking, as if the whole world was collapsing.
At that moment, I didn't know whether I was awake or dreaming. My head felt like it was being hit by a sledgehammer, the pain almost unbearable. I stepped on empty air and fell into a dark abyss, into an endless void.
Dreams intertwined in the darkness, flashing through me in fragments. I felt like I had become that tree—a huge, ancient tree, lush and leafy, yet also incredibly lonely.
In my dream, I was the tree's consciousness, feeling its sadness, its loneliness, and its longing for connection with humanity. The tree's dreams, those hopes growing in the cracks of time, were to change the world, to become a top scientific researcher, and even to benefit humanity in its own way.
In its past, it was a human being, possessing its own life and soul, and harboring dreams. However, in some unknown experiment, it lost its former self and became the invisible existence it is now, standing alone in this abyss, longing for change but unable to do so.
He was once a person...
He once had a dream too.
The dream was fragmented, like a swirling mist, sometimes blurry, sometimes clear. The tree's sadness was contagious to me, and I could feel the suppressed pain, as if an invisible force was tightly wrapped around me, unable to break free.
In the dream, I tried to help it, tried to find the answer it longed for, but each time I was swallowed by the thick darkness and the answer was always out of reach.
Suddenly, the entrance to the abandoned lab area appeared before me. It was blurry, yet so real. It felt like a call, awakening memories deep within me. That place—that secret place I'd explored countless times—seemed deeply connected to the events I'd experienced. I instinctively reached out, trying to grasp the image of the entrance. At that moment, my eyes snapped open.
I woke up from my chaotic dream in an instant, and consciousness returned like a tide. Nightingale's figure appeared before me, with a hint of concern in her eyes, but she was not in a hurry to disturb my meditation.
He looked at me, his tone relaxed and calm: "You seem to have had a very long dream."
I raised my hand to rub my temple, feeling dizzy and painful. Nightingale came over and put her hand on my shoulder, giving me some support.
I took a deep breath, managing to steady myself, my vision still hazy. That dream, though brief, had left an unending impact on me. That testing area, that tree's sadness, they all seemed to constantly haunt my consciousness. I couldn't explain the feeling, but I knew there was some connection between that place and me.
Nightingale looked at me, seemed to notice my change, and frowned: "What's wrong? You don't look right."
I forced a smile and shook my head. "It's okay. Probably just tired. It's just—I don't quite understand that dream. It feels like part of a memory."
"Memory?" Nightingale frowned. "Do you think that dream is related to our previous mission?"
I nodded, a hint of determination flashing in my eyes. "I'm not sure, but that experimental area, that place, seems to have appeared in my dream again. Maybe we missed something, or..."
Nightingale was silent for a while, and finally nodded: "Then let's go and take a look." His tone became calmer and more decisive, as if he had already prepared to face the unknown danger again.
"Where to go?" I asked.
"That place." Nightingale's eyes grew deep, as if she was pondering something more complicated. "The abandoned experimental area."
That place seemed to hold some unknown secrets, secrets that could shake everything. And I seemed destined to face it again, to find the answer to that dream.
The answer in the dream.