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Chapter 15 - Chapter 14 - Agatha's Dream of Being Betrayed by Heaven

Scientifically, it is said that when a human body is unconscious, the idea of time vanishes—slips away as if it never existed.

Simply like how one sleeps at night and wakes up in the morning, while in the middle, they're unaware of exactly how much time has passed. No matter if hours go by, to the sleeper, it's a blink.

Making it so that the dreams one sees all night—or at least one thinks they were seeing them all night—feel more like flashes of images rather than a whole video. Like broken reflections in rippling water.

Those dreams they see are like frames that play within a few seconds or minutes, not all night.

So even though they are considered dreams, which are created by the mind's hallucination, one way or another, they are influenced by external forces. The mind, even when closed, remains listening.

Like how if one pees on their bed, most probably they will see a dream regarding that.

If someone has a nightfall, they would see some selective dream and so on, where external changes are influencing the internal idea. A whisper of reality threading into the illusion.

And that is true when a human, for the first time, experiences this spark in their Kundalini.

It's not something supernatural, but simply a start that happens with a tingling sensation between one's eyebrows—a ripple in the still surface of the self.

This sensation opens the door for external forces to influence one's dreams, and that was exactly happening with Agatha, who was right now unconscious but in her mind, there were flashes of images—raw, disjointed, and primal.

"Uh....hmm..."

Her eyes furrowed, clenching her fists even in the dream as she saw a strange white rope she was wearing. A ceremonial robe perhaps, but her consciousness didn't know—only felt its odd weight.

Her face was shrouded in fog, but she instinctively knew it was her. That haunting, unshakable certainty one has in dreams.

Moving behind a line of women while the place seemed completely strange—alien—and came out of some cultivation movie.

In that dream, a man was pointing a finger towards her, as all the other women glanced back, giving her a cold smirk, something totally confusing her. As if she was chosen for something she didn't understand, yet everyone else did.

Until one of those women slowly moved forward, her face nothing but shrouded in white mist as she stretched her hand and pushed Agatha—or at least what she was in that dream—back.

She fell.

It was as if she was trying to protest, to not be chosen for something that was decided by the higher authorities. Something beyond her voice, her will.

"HAAAH.....HAAAAH.....—thud."

Agatha's body instantly lurched forward, eyes widened, mouth gasping, with her forehead directly hitting Lecan's chin as his head swung back with a soft grunt of pain.

While she, breathing heavily, looked around, not even caring about her forehead pain, felt her heart sink due to that nightmare, which even though beautiful from external appearances—a dream full of mystical allure—was a nightmare internally of someone being thrown or betrayed.

"So, did you see some dream?"

Lecan inquired, slowly bringing his head back, which was lying now back on the sofa, adjusting his chin and looking towards her, who was clearly surprised—lost in the aftertaste of that vivid sequence.

But as he asked, his hands moved, clearly wrapping around her as he pulled her into a hug, knowing the vulnerability she might have gone through due to the sudden awakening of her soul memories. The tremor of the invisible was still lingering in her breath.

"Huh?"

Agatha was still having widened eyes, slowly feeling herself being pulled into a hug. Her body was here, but her mind was still halfway stuck in that realm.

She was in a half-trance state before, finally, as her ears felt his skin's warmth, his breathing over her forehead, and her body aligned directly beside him—seated but hugged tight enough—she slowly made herself realize her present identity.

"H-how am I here?"

Agatha slowly let her eyes roam, taking in details—the fabric of the sofa, the dim golden light of the lamp nearby—until she found herself in Lecan's apartment.

In front of her was that woman seated in the cloth Agatha had brought, slowly making her remember that she had a sudden head pain before now finding herself here. The gap in time was filled only by her breath and the rhythm of his heart.

"You lost consciousness, don't tell me you're ill,"

Lecan inquired in a way where he wanted to get details about her cancer, to hear if she would reveal her illness while patting her head to calm her mind. His touch was soft, rhythmic—calculated even—while clearly giving a sharp glance towards Velmira, who, even though had done well, could have caused brain damage due to so much information being pulled out of Agatha's soul.

If it wasn't for her detachment from her body—or being someone under heaven's will—they would have gone insane or lost their mental balance once forced Kundalini is awakened. This was not a child's game.

Normally, humans take everything as fantasy.

At one time, humans called the earth flat, then laughed at the idea of humans ever being able to fly, and just so on.

Until they experience those things themselves or someone breaks those self-made isolations, they always treat things as if they're a part of fantasy or illusion, not reality.

So, in humans, those who are deeply tied with materialistic things and the world, like how to earn, live, and survive, they never pay attention to questions like why they were born, in the place they were born, or question their identity.

For such humans, if someone were to force their Kundalini, they will instantly lose their mind due to having their ego broken forcefully. The mask they wear would crack—and beneath that mask, is nothing.

Ego here means the body's present identity, which was why Lecan gave a sharp glare to Velmira, who did not understand the consequences if something were to happen to Agatha.

"Oh.... I see,"

Agatha, having her eyes relaxing due to feeling her head being patted and her mind calming down, hearing his words, realized that maybe her disease had resurfaced, leading her to lose consciousness.

As she just used her hand to support herself on his arm, lifting it in a struggle to think to hold his body, but halted instantly as she remembered that she lost this privilege. That boundary was no longer hers.

"It must be exhaustion,"

Agatha instantly pulled herself back, using her hands to force back before taking her seat, adjusting her clothes as she glanced towards Velmira, taking a peek to see if she was angered at seeing some other woman touching her boyfriend.

But she just got a blank reaction from Velmira, as if she didn't care. As if the moment was too small to hold meaning.

'...Is she not angry?'

Agatha thought, given that what she was doing right now was being too clingy to Lecan, which might definitely anger any woman who loves him.

After all, no one can tolerate someone else clinging to their partner.

But seeing Velmira, a doubt arose in Agatha's heart.

Her reaction was too bland, 'Does she not care—'

'!'

However, before she could think further, her eyes looked at a clock on the nearby wall.

"Wait! Was I asleep for 3 hours!?"

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