Jérémy Chapi:
My conversation with Atlas lasted well into the night.
We talked about everything and nothing, but mostly about what I envisioned for the future. He was probably the first person I had truly entrusted with my plans for what lay ahead. His only response was a laugh, as though he couldn't quite believe everything I was telling him.
Yet the conversation flowed effortlessly, drifting from one subject to another—our respective lives, our meeting with Séléné, and countless other memories.
By the time I glanced at my phone, it was already two o'clock in the morning.
The evening came to an end as the President walked me back to the elevator.
Before I stepped inside, he extended his hand in farewell.
Naturally, I shook it.
What caught me completely off guard, however, was when he leaned in and kissed me once on each cheek.
"That's what French people do when they consider someone a friend... isn't it?" he asked with a smile.
I thanked him for his trust and assured him that I, too, regarded him as a true friend—someone worthy of mine.
Then we said our goodbyes, and I made my way back the same route I had taken earlier.
When the elevator doors opened, my head still pleasantly light from the wine, I found the same guards standing watch.
Amarante was there as well.
She seemed to have been waiting for me.
"Did your dinner with the President go well?" she asked.
I blinked in surprise.
Had she really stayed here all this time?
The thought of her still being there at such a late hour genuinely caught me off guard.
"Please tell me you haven't been waiting here ever since I entered the lounge?" I asked, intrigued.
"No, of course not."
She stepped forward to walk beside me.
"The President informed me when you were about to leave."
"That's a relief," I replied. "And to answer your question, yes, the evening was perfect. Were you the one who organized everything?" I asked as we resumed our walk back toward the workshop.
"Only in part," she answered while keeping pace beside me. "Several of us are responsible for different areas. Is there anything else you need?"
As we walked through the corridor, I noticed something that immediately reminded me of Natali... and Vivian.
Despite wearing high heels, her footsteps made no sound whatsoever.
The only thing breaking the silence was the distant hum of the ventilation system.
Fatigue was beginning to catch up with me, dulling my senses ever so slightly.
Yet somehow...
that detail didn't escape me.
Without beating around the bush, I asked,
"You're more than just an agent, aren't you?"
"You're like Vivian... am I right?"
She turned her head slightly toward me.
Her half-lidded eyes met mine as a faint, mischievous smile appeared on her lips.
"Perhaps..." she replied.
"Who knows?"
There was something enigmatic in her voice.
Her expression alone told me everything I needed to know.
We didn't belong to the same world.
A slight chill ran down my spine.
She escorted me all the way back to the door of the workshop where I was staying.
After wishing me a good night, she disappeared into the corridor without making the slightest sound...
like a shadow melting into the darkness.
As I stepped inside, I found myself alone.
My daughter had already sent me a message telling me she would be spending the evening with Séraphina and wouldn't be back until the following day.
Knowing she had found a friend to share moments like these with genuinely made me happy.
Still...
I couldn't deny that the emptiness of the workshop reminded me just how lonely my own life had become.
Even Adamai and Evangelyne were fast asleep.
My arm still throbbed despite the wonderful evening I had just spent.
I took some pain medication, hoping it would at least allow me to get a little sleep.
Tomorrow, I would meet with Daniel and Séraphina to discuss the future of the Celestial Rings.
Would they be willing to hear what I had to say?
I honestly didn't know.
The future remained uncertain.
I didn't want to lose myself in my thoughts any longer.
I slipped off my shirt and trousers, carelessly tossing them onto the chair beside my bed before sliding beneath the sheets.
Resting my head against the pillow, I finally allowed my exhausted body to surrender to sleep, hoping to find the rest I had longed for.
Darkness swallowed me almost instantly.
But it wasn't the peaceful silence I had expected.
A deafening turmoil rose all around me—a chaotic blend of indistinct voices, distant screams, and the muffled echoes of explosions.
I looked around.
There was nothing.
Only shifting, distorted shadows, as though reality itself were beginning to unravel.
Then...
a light appeared before me.
An immense conference chamber suddenly materialized around me.
Cold.
Sterile.
Impersonal.
Was this where my meeting with the French representatives to seek recognition for my principality was supposed to take place?
I found myself seated alone at an enormous table, facing an assembly of blurred silhouettes.
They whispered among themselves.
Though I couldn't make out their faces, I could feel the weight of their stares pressing down on me.
The air was heavy.
Oppressive.
"Just an ordinary man who thinks he's a sovereign..." one mocking voice sneered.
"Do you honestly believe we're going to let you do this?" another replied.
"This country belongs to us. Everything born here, everything that grows and prospers here, is under our control."
"You're nothing more than an intruder."
A third voice laughed.
"A dreamer who believes he can rewrite the rules."
"We make the laws."
"We decide what is allowed to exist."
"You are nothing compared to our power."
The voices overlapped, growing louder...
harsher...
more hostile.
The room itself seemed to close in around me.
"You're an impostor!"
"You're nothing!"
"You have no right to this land!"
Then—
A scream tore through the air.
"Dad!"
I spun around.
There was Iris.
Her wrists were bound in handcuffs, her clothes torn, as shadowy figures wearing grotesque masks dragged her away by force.
Terror twisted her face.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as her desperate eyes searched for mine.
"Help me! Dad, please!" she screamed, struggling against them.
One of the figures leaned over her.
Behind a half-mask with demonic features, it slowly ran its tongue across her cheek.
Iris shuddered in disgust.
Her entire body trembled beneath the weight of the humiliation.
I tried to scream.
No sound came out.
My limbs refused to move.
My heart pounded violently against my ribs.
A crushing pain tightened around my chest, stealing my breath until every gasp became a struggle.
Why couldn't I move?
Why wasn't I doing anything?
Was I... powerless?
The shadows surrounding me laughed.
They whispered among themselves as though I were nothing more than an invisible spectator.
Natali stood among them.
She watched everything unfold with cold indifference.
"You're nothing but a dreamer, Jérémy."
"Your plans are doomed to fail."
"You will accomplish nothing."
"You won't protect anyone."
"And soon..."
"...she will disappear as well."
I reached out, desperately trying to grasp Iris's hand.
It was useless.
An invisible force held me in place.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
With a silent gesture, one of the figures gave an order.
The shadows surged forward...
and swallowed my daughter whole.
My heart pounded so violently I could feel every single beat echoing through my entire body.
I was suffocating.
My throat burned.
Violent spasms coursed through my entire body.
My mind screamed in agony, yet not a single sound escaped my lips as invisible swords pierced me from every direction.
I wept in absolute darkness...
impaled by unseen blades...
abandoned by everyone.
Then...
a gentle voice pierced the chaos.
"Wake up, Jérémy."
I jolted awake.
Cold sweat drenched my body as I gasped for air.
My eyes darted around the room, still searching for the threatening shadows.
But everything was quiet.
There was nothing...
only the silence of my bedroom...
and the terror still gripping my heart.
The cool sensation of blood trickling from my wound, accompanied by the familiar pain, reminded me that I had returned to the real world.
My throat felt painfully dry.
With aching muscles, I slowly forced myself out of bed and looked into the workshop.
My daughter's central unit was still there.
Safe.
Untouched.
Yet that did nothing to stop a shiver from running down my spine as memories of my dream...
—or rather, my nightmare—
came flooding back.
I made my way to the bathroom, splashed cold water over my face, and drank as much as I could to quench my thirst.
When I glanced at the clock, I realized it was already five in the morning.
I returned to my bed...
but a knot tightened in my throat.
In the end, I chose to sacrifice the few remaining hours of sleep rather than risk falling back into that nightmare.