Johnny's sobbing slowly subsided, leaving only small, hitching breaths that shook his shoulders. He refused to let go, terrified that if he released his hold, this warmth would vanish, and he would be cast back into that field of slaughter.
Marilla sat patiently on the edge of the bed, allowing her apron to soak up her son's tears.
"Tell me," Marilla whispered softly, wiping the remaining tears from Johnny's cheek with her rough thumb. "What kind of dream could make my little champ cry like a baby?"
Johnny took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He looked down, staring at the wooden floorboards, but his eyes were seeing something far, far away.
"It felt... so real, Mom," Johnny's voice was hoarse. "Not like a normal dream. I... I was a grown man there. And I carried a sword... a massive sword."
Marilla listened, chalking it up to the vivid imagination of a boy who had watched too much news about the Wutai War.
"The sky was red," Johnny continued, his voice trembling violently. "Like wounded, rotting flesh. And there were demons and monsters everywhere. My friends... the soldiers who trusted me... they were all eaten alive. One by one."
Johnny's fists clenched on his knees, squeezing so hard that his knuckles turned white.
"I tried to save them, Mom. I tried to cut through those monsters to open a path... I managed to push Casca, Schierke, and the others out of that hellish circle. They survived, they managed to escape... but the cost was too high."
He looked down, tears welling up once more in his weary eyes.
"I could only stand there, frozen, as my right arm was severed and my eye was claimed by darkness. In my remaining vision, I saw the others—those who didn't make it—dying while screaming my name, begging for help I couldn't give. Some of them became fodder for the demons just so my closest friends could live."
Johnny drew a shallow, painful breath.
"It hurts so much... not just the physical wounds, but the sound of their screams echoing behind me. The pain won't go away, Mom. Even now that I'm awake, I still feel like I'm standing on a mountain of their corpses."
Guts stopped. He didn't speak of Griffith. He didn't speak full of the betrayal, the violation, or the horrors of the Eclipse. Those things were too dark for his mother's ears. But the sheer despair in his voice made the room turn cold.
Marilla fell silent. A chill ran down her spine at the description. It was too detailed, too horrific to come from the mouth of her thirteen-year-old son. She hugged Johnny again, tighter this time.
"There, there... It's all over," Marilla whispered, kissing the top of Johnny's head.
"You're here now. In Sector 7. There is no red sky. And those monsters? They are far away, outside the fences. They can't touch you here."