— The Dream That Laughed
The sky in the dream was split in two.
One half burned gold. The other bled red.
Izunna stood in the middle of a wide, empty plain that felt endless, the ground beneath him cracked like dry earth before rain. He couldn't see where he had come from. He couldn't see where he was supposed to go.
But he could hear them.
Steel against bone.
Light against flame.
A figure descended from the golden half of the sky — radiant, winged, carrying a blade made of something brighter than sunlight. Its presence was calm, heavy with authority. The ground healed wherever its feet touched.
Opposite it stood something else.
Tall. Dark. Smiling.
The demon's body shifted like smoke wrapped around muscle. Two curved horns rose from its head. Its eyes glowed with delighted anticipation.
It wasn't angry.
It was excited.
They clashed.
The angel moved with precision, each strike clean and purposeful. Light exploded with every swing of its blade, carving through the air in brilliant arcs. The demon met each attack with laughter — not strained, not forced — genuine amusement.
The sound of it made Izunna's stomach tighten.
The angel pressed forward, wings flaring, blade blazing brighter as it aimed for the demon's chest.
The demon caught the blade with one hand.
The light flickered.
The laughter grew louder.
"You fight like you believe," the demon said, voice smooth as oil. "How adorable."
It twisted its grip.
The blade cracked.
The angel staggered.
The demon moved faster than the eye could follow. It drove its fist through the angel's torso in a burst of red and gold. The wings shattered into fragments of fading light.
The angel fell to its knees.
The demon didn't finish it quickly.
It circled, smiling wide, savoring the moment. Each strike it delivered came with laughter — loud, joyous, almost childlike. It was enjoying the victory.
Izunna tried to move.
He couldn't.
He wasn't in the fight.
He was watching.
The angel looked up.
Not at the demon.
At him.
Its eyes held warning.
The demon noticed.
Slowly, it turned its head.
And looked directly at Izunna.
The laughter stopped.
For a second, the world felt too quiet.
Then the demon stepped away from the dying angel and began walking toward him.
Each step cracked the ground deeper.
Izunna tried to back away, but the plain stretched endlessly behind him. His feet felt rooted.
The demon stopped a few steps away.
Up close, its face was clearer. Not monstrous. Not entirely.
Almost human.
That made it worse.
It tilted its head, studying him with interest.
"You can see this," it said softly. "That's rare."
Izunna swallowed, though his throat felt dry.
The demon leaned closer.
"You're standing too close to the door."
Its smile widened again.
"If I enter your heart now, you won't wake up whole."
It reached out a hand toward his chest.
The air grew cold.
"Wake up," the demon whispered.
The ground split open beneath Izunna's feet.
"Wake up before I come inside."
His heart slammed violently in his chest—
And he jerked upright in his bed.
Darkness.
His room.
The faint hum of a generator somewhere outside.
His breathing was ragged. Sweat clung to his skin.
He pressed a hand to his chest.
His heart was racing.
For a moment, everything was normal.
Then—
A faint echo of laughter brushed the edge of his mind.
Soft.
Distant.
Waiting.