The Eighth Herrscher is the ruler of the mental domain.
In the Previous Era, the Eighth Herrscher, formally titled the "Herrscher of Illusion," once unleashed the "Authority of Illusion," causing a memetic infection that plunged person after person into a deep sleep, from which they never woke.
And now, the boy who possessed the Authority of Illusion fully unleashed that power upon the beautiful woman named Cecilia.
The world began to spin.
Her vision grew dim.
Then, her consciousness began to blur.
"Please, in this dream, make your life's choice."
Before her consciousness completely descended into chaos, she heard these words.
---o---
When she awoke again, the first thing she saw was a pale white ceiling.
The white-haired girl sat up from the hospital bed, her head feeling a bit heavy and muddled.
She shook her head forcefully.
Then, memories floated to the surface.
Her name was Kiana. Kiana Kaslana.
The daughter of Siegfried Kaslana and Cecilia Schariac, and—
Test Subject No. 0 of the laboratory.
"Kiana Kaslana, your father has committed a grave error."
A man with brilliant blond hair squinted his emerald-green eyes—which seemed to hold both the grasslands and the forests—at her, his expression grim.
"He has betrayed Schicksal, betrayed the people."
In her memory, a tall figure emerged.
It was her father.
A man who had always fought on the front lines against the Honkai, as valiant as the dragon-slayer from the Song of the Nibelungs.
"N-no, that's impossible!"
With almost no hesitation, the little "Kiana" looked at the man, who looked suspiciously like that annoying blond kid whose hair she used to pull, her expression filled with indignation.
"But this is the truth."
As if he had long anticipated her reaction, the man spoke.
"It is regrettable, but as the daughter of the greatest traitor in Schicksal's history, you have lost your former glory. You must even bear a portion of your father's sins."
"Kiana" knew what the man named Otto meant by "bearing the sins."
The so-called method of bearing his sins was, in fact, having her blood drawn or being injected with strange substances.
Some of it didn't hurt, some of it hurt a little, and some of it hurt a lot. But the one thing all of it had in common was that it was truly, truly detestable.
When Dad gets back, I'll definitely make him beat this bastard up!
With a cold huff, the little "Kiana" turned her head away, no longer paying any mind to that green-hatted turtle.
And then—
She was taken away by those people in white coats.
After that came many more detestable experiments.
When Dad gets back, I'll definitely make him beat these guys up good.
"Kiana" sat on the hospital bed, recalling the faces of the researchers one by one, thinking viciously.
And then—
One day, her father really came.
With the help of her Great-Aunt, he stormed into Schicksal with the Might of An-Utu in hand, fighting his way into the research lab.
The man wasn't as heroic as she remembered, but he had still come to save her.
If this were a fairy tale, the next part would be her father defeating that damn blondie and taking her home.
But…
There was always a gap between reality and ideals.
Father was deceived.
He mistook the clone that damn blondie had created for her and fled in a panic.
Father is so careless.
"Kiana's" mood sank a little.
But it was okay. Once her father realized he had taken the wrong person, he would definitely come back again. He would learn his lesson and take her back for real that time.
"Kiana" endured the throbbing pain from the experiments and thought.
But—
He never came again.
"My dear little princess, you can no longer be called Kiana Kaslana."
One day, the blond man appeared before her again, speaking with a smile.
He handed her a photograph.
In the photo, a white-haired man was holding a girl who looked just like her, his smile bright and cheerful.
"Kiana Kaslana is her name."
The blond man pointed at the white-haired girl in the photo, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"You've been abandoned."
"You're lying!!"
As if a fire had been lit in her heart, she leaped up, swinging her fist viciously at that blondie's face.
How could her father abandon her?!
The fist was caught by the blond man.
He gave her a single, unsettling look, then left.
Later, she understood.
That look was called pity.
And by the time she understood that, a long time had already passed…
During that period, her father had never come looking for her again.
A long, long time later, someone finally came to save her.
But that person was not the tall, strapping, white-haired man from her memories.
Father… no, Siegfried Kaslana had always been a hero of the people. He had never betrayed the people.
But—
He had betrayed her.
The girl, who had shed countless tears for that man, remained silent for a long time in her lover's arms.
And then—
For some reason, the person holding her disappeared, and the world began to grow mottled.
In a world of only black and white, only shards of black and red feathers drifted in the air.
Then, one by one, the feathers dissipated like snowflakes in the sun.
"Do you have an answer?"
A voice that seemed to belong to her lover, yet at the same time didn't, rang out.
And then—
The world came back into focus.
The world shifted from Schicksal's floating islands to a simple, Russian-style room.
"Lady Mother-in-law."
The black-haired boy, having brewed a fragrant tea, brought it before her.
She unconsciously picked up the cup. As the steam from the hot tea rose and drifted past her eyes, her memories gradually returned.
Her name was Cecilia Schariac.
Everything she had just experienced was a dream.
A dreamscape formed from the memories of Kiana, abandoned by her father.
"Excuse me, can you give me an answer?"
The boy, who would have pulled her into Sirin's dream had she chosen Siegfried, smiled cheerfully.
But—
In Cecilia's eyes, that smile was intensely pressuring.
He was demanding an answer from her.
Cecilia reached out a hand, placing it over her heart.
The despair of being abandoned in the dream still seemed to linger there.
"The Siegfried that belonged to me… is already dead."
As if she had personally witnessed her husband's death, Cecilia's eyes were tinged with red.
"It seems there's no need to have you experience the dream of Sirin—ah, that is, the girl who was given Kiana's name."
The boy, who had always been skilled in illusions, said as he looked at Cecilia, who seemed to be in mourning.
"No… let me properly see what Sirin went through."
Cecilia made the request.
"Why?"
Cecilia did not answer the question. She just stared woodenly at the boy who had laid bare all the suffering Kiana had endured before her.
The dream of Sirin he had just mentioned was likely another illusion, one bearing the pain of another child.
"I really did love him."
The words, seemingly out of nowhere, came from Cecilia's lips.
"I understand."
As if he had seen something, the boy sighed.
And then—
The dream of Sirin began to form.
PS: Although I'd really like to write about the mother-in-law, if I did, this book would probably be gone. So, I'll stop here.