After going through what he planned to do with his family, Ren's royal guard was given a phone call and informed of the next day's arrangement.
Ren was then shown to his room so he could rest, alas, leaving behind a big question in everyone's mind.
"Why does it seem like losing his memories only made him smarter, more cunning, more manipulative?"
After a long moment of silent brain scratching, the answer they came up with was an affirmation to rumoured stories of people who lost their memories due to head trauma, recovering with hightened abilities in a particular field like art and music, only for Ren, it appeared to be a business complex.
Treating memory loss in their current age was only a healing peal away, but those said people would rather live without their memories and have their new abilities than have memories that proved useless.
No one mentioned it but it was the silent decision they all made for Ren. He was better off this way— him losing his memories was the greatest gift the gods could ever give them, if they really did exist.
***
Ren finally had some alone time in his bedroom that seemed too extravagant given fall from wealth in his previous life. It had a dark and grey aesthetic, colors that portrayed a story of melancholy and dull life events, just as he liked it.
He took off his shirt and fell on his bed, letting out a tired sigh and falling into deep thought. With the Soul Devourer living rent-free in his head, the idea of him having access to his thoughts had crossed him once, but after a brief test during his holding in his confinement cell, he ruled it out. The Soul Devourer only seemed to reply to him only when he spoke out loud.
His thoughts were private and that was a something he considered more of a gift in a world that seemed to be pitting him against everything unfavorable.
With the way new things have been thrown at me since I got here, I can feel it... I got too overwhelmed that I lost my only shield against the Soul Devourer.
Right now, it feels like he's breathing down my neck. I have to build up the deterance again from ground up.
His head lazily fell to side, his gaze landing on some head gear harmless seated on the study table by the window.
Virtual Reality helmet? Hmm, Its crazy how I reincarnated in a world that seems to be running on different laws, more mythical than real, yet somehow the timeline is similar to that of earth.
They have cars, sky scrapers, cameras, media, good roads and now VR headsets.
I mean if everyone has that kind of physical prowess, why the need to advance technology....
His thoughts became foggy towards the end, and he didn't realize just when he fell asleep and entered a dream state.
"Do you remember what I taught you, Ren?" a jovial male voice prompted Ren to turn a round in what seemed like conference room that looked like his previous company.
He caught sight of the source of the voice— a man dressed in a purely white suit, a black goatie that framed his face, and a smile that spoke of fatherly wisdom.
"Prophet?" Ren did not undertand what was going on, neither did he know how he got there. When he tried to pry through his memories, they seemed like dozens of interconnected dreams he had separately yet felt like one in the same, of him flying, travelling in his shadow and slaying monstrous creatures with his a sword as big as him.
"Ren..." called the man in white, taking a seat at the executive chair at the edge of the table. "I am not the prophet, but I spoke through the prophets."
"Hmm?" Ren snapping out of his memory trip, saw the man gesturing for him to take a seat, which he did howbeit so confused.
"Ren, you've been naughty... Now I know for sure you don't remember what I taught you. Do you not know what a dream feels like till now?"
"I'm sorry. I've been so caught up in a lot of things lately. My company is being snatched from me and soon I'll lose everything," the words left Ren's mouth almost automatically, like he had no control over it. It felt like he was watching a movie only through an active character in that movie, without the ability to change or direct the plot.
"Oh well, these matters aren't deemed important to many. I don't blame you for deciding so yourself too. Perhaps..." the man in white rose from his seat, circling around the table and standing by the glass wall that overlooked a thriving city below, "Perhaps, If you saw just how powerful they were, you wouldn't sit back like a lazy duck."
Ren felt the shift in the air, the way the man-in-white's tone grew heavier, prompting him to raise up wryly.
"Dreams," the man's voice landed like a bucket of cold ice over Ren's body, the entire scenary changing like the man's simple word was a magic trigger capable of altering reality, "are the adventures of a man's spirit into a realm that transcends time and space."
Ren found himself standing in a plain grass field, with no signs of civilization in view. The world began rapidly spinning on its axis, the sun rising and setting in matters of seconds, ushering forth new days and starry nights.
He saw different ages rise and fall before his eyes, from the prehistoric age to the early mordern age, then things began to slow down. A mysterious air filled the land, donned with microscopic particles of all sorts of colors he was able to see, yet he knew they were supposed to be hidden. War and suffering set in, a people oppressed by the power shift this air brought.
Then it changed when a group of stars fell from the sky, landing on the earth. The oppressed gained a back bone and were able to fight for their rights.
A short moment after another war set in. A white haired man and his clan against entire nations led by another white haired man that looked identical in every sense.
The one leading the nations was defeated, and his body burst into red flames that scattered all over, and taking shelter in various people all over the earth.
The scene fast forwarded again, and all Ren could see was a history shaped by endless wars that always seemed to come one way or another.
Like a paper crampled and discarded, the world around him folded bringing him to a dark void that slowly took shape the shape of a hotel room.
In it, an old man stood by an investigation board with multiple pictures and cross linked red threads.
He recognized one of the faces on the pictures as his and a grim understanding befell him.
Suddenly, the old man's face turned backwards, unnaturally so, his gaze firmly settled on Ren's figure, an unnerving smile showing creeping up his lips.
"I'm coming for you, Prince Ren. Your life's mine! You are MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE!!!!"
He started shouting the same word over and over again while violently banging his fists on the table.
Terror gripped Ren, his heart thumping violently against his chest. Each time the old man repeated the word "mine", he felt his soul shake.
Until he just couldn't take it any more and he rose up from bed with shriek.
The sun was already out, gently on his sweating figure, making it glisten like gold.
"HAHA!!! Did the "almighty" Ren Vaelthorn have a nightmare?! Hahaa..." the Soul Devourer burst into a boisterous laughter, irritating Ren greatly.
"SHUTUP You white-haired fool!" came Ren's rebuke, uncontrolled. It echoed in his mind and like bucket of cold water, the realization of what he had just done, froze him.
Did I just insult a god capable of thwarting me like a fly?!!! CRAP!