Behind the red curtain wasn't the fancy mansion hall Nero had visited once before. Nope. It was a pitch-black theater, crawling with demons.
Nero took a deep breath, steadying her shaky hands. She let the curtain fall and stepped back.
In that moment, the peaceful garden around her took on the eerie, twisted vibe of a dream gone wrong. It hit Nero why Nanna and its minions hadn't invaded this dream, the one Mutsu Wakaba said was linked to Shoko's. They couldn't.
Mutsu's dream was split into two layers. The inner layer was where Nero stood now—the "stage," a world of its own. Beyond the curtain hanging at the mansion's entrance was the outer layer, that dark-as-hell theater. This double-layered setup let Mutsu dodge Nanna's invasion, carving out a safe space in her dream.
Safe, though? Really?
Nero scanned the "stage," then snapped her head up, eyeing the sky.
In the glow of the afternoon sun, faint threads dangled from above.
Some were hooked into Mutsu's body. Others were trying to worm their way into Nero.
This play on the stage wasn't some grand theater production with actors. It was a puppet show, with invisible strings jerked by a puppeteer. Something unseen loomed high above, itching to control the uninvited guest who'd crashed the show.
"You said this was your dream, didn't you?"
Nero swiped her hand, conjuring a blade of demonic energy to slice through the annoying threads creeping toward her. She shot a glare at Mutsu.
If this was really her dream, why the hell was there a puppeteer pulling her strings?
The figure seated at the table—dressed in a lavish gown, face hidden behind a mask—merely pointed skyward. In a flat, emotionless tone, like she was watching the world from a distance, she said, "That's Mutsu Wakaba."
That answer nearly made Nero jump out of her skin. Good thing Mutsu didn't turn her head with a creepy grin or rip off her skin to reveal some grotesque monster. If she had, Nero would've been halfway across the stage, and she wouldn't have been surprised one bit.
Even so, this was freaky enough. This dream laid bare just how "beautifully" screwed up Mutsu's mental state was. She saw herself as the puppeteer, detached, yanking the strings of a puppet called "herself" to perform one act after another for the world.
"Why's it like this?" Nero couldn't help but ask.
The puppet replied coolly, "It's always been like this."
Her words were sparse, skating around the edges of the conversation, but when she spoke, she cut straight to the core.
Maybe that was the power of a puppeteer over her stage. Mutsu was a master at observing everything from the outside, never getting lost in the moment. But the cost?
This cold, emotionless shell she was showing now.
Nero sucked in a breath, swallowing her shock, and pressed on with her never-give-up attitude. "If I take out the demons in that theater out there, can I get to Shoko's dream?"
The puppet shook her head slowly, shutting that idea down. "Nanna will notice this place."
Yeah, that wouldn't work. Nero wasn't exactly itching to tip off Nanna that she was poking around in the dreamworld—not yet. This was Nanna's turf, and going toe-to-toe with it was a proven pipe dream.
Hatsuka had said if Nero got into trouble in the dream, she could pull her out. But with that connection cut, that safety net was gone. If Nanna caught her now, Nero might never wake up.
But sitting around twiddling her thumbs wasn't an option either. No one was coming to bail her out. This was Mutsu's dream, and Mutsu was technically on the same side as Hatsuka and the others. If Hatsuka knew where Nero was, she'd have shown up by now.
"So how do I get outta here?" Nero asked.
The puppet tilted her head. "Why?"
She meant "why leave?" The reason? "It's safe here." …Maybe. Nero didn't hesitate. "I've gotta take down Ace and Nanna."
That's why she was hellbent on helping Shoko beat Nanna's consciousness.
"No need to worry," the puppet said, her voice slow and steady, echoing the puppeteer's words. "Shoko Toyokawa won't lose to Nanna."
Nero's patience frayed. "Whether she loses or not isn't the point! Right now, my uncle's the one about to get his ass handed to him!"
Yeah, that was the real problem. If Dante could just steamroll the Demon Emperor Nanna had summoned, Nero could kick back with a lawn chair and wait for her uncle to mop up both sides. But right now? Dante was stuck in a slugfest, unprepared, with victory nowhere in sight.
If they didn't take out Nanna soon, who knew what kind of chaos that demon and Ace would stir up next?
Plus, Mutsu herself was giving Nero the creeps. One wrong move, and Nero might not get snagged by Nanna—she'd end up under Mutsu's control.
Lucky for her, Mutsu didn't seem interested in stopping her. The puppet at the table raised a hand, pointing slowly at the curtain separating the two worlds. "You can leave through the theater's main gate. But where you'll end up? No guarantees."
No clue where she'd land? Nero frowned but decided sitting still was worse. "Got it."
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One last thing bugged her, though. "If I leave the stage, won't that tip off the demons out there to this place?"
Nero could walk away, sure, but this was Mutsu's dream. She couldn't just bail and leave Mutsu to get snatched by Nanna. She'd just called out Sosei Nagasaki for pulling that kind of stunt—she wasn't about to be a hypocrite.
"If you go through the backstage, it'll be fine," the puppet said, gesturing toward a small path in the garden. That route would slip her out of the "audience's" sight, letting her exit the stage safely.
"Well then, guess this is goodbye."
Nero stepped toward the path, pausing to give a quick bow—her "curtain call."
Through a hidden door at the path's end, her vision blurred, and she found herself in the outer dream. The dark theater stretched before her, every seat packed with glowing red eyes fixed on the closed curtain, waiting for the show to start.
And then came the spotlight, her cue for a grand entrance.
A beam of light sliced through the darkness from the theater's dome, tearing the shadows apart.
Under the glow, silver-haired Nero finished her bow and looked up, her eyes blazing with fire.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she said, her sweet voice laced with a killing edge, spilling from her cherry-red lips.
"Time for a requiem."
(End of Chapter)