Sparkle reveled in the unfettered chaos of her own making; the notion of a lawful existence was dreadfully monotonous. Neutrality held no allure for her either, laden with its own unspoken regulations. As for the paths of darkness, why confine oneself to the role of the villain when one could dance across the battlefield, eliciting gasps and cheers alike? She was the self-appointed mistress of ceremonies, the wildcard no one could predict.

However, her musings were abruptly interrupted by an unexpected thump to the head.

Bonk!

"Owwie! Fuu! Why did you hit my head!?" she whined, nursing the sore spot with a frown.

Caelus stood there, a mix of confusion and exasperation brewing within him, steam almost visibly escaping his hand. His next word was concise yet weighty with demand. "Explain."

Sparkle's eyes glimmered mischievously, and a sly grin spread across her face. "Whatever do you mean~?" she teased, her tone dripping with feigned innocence.

It was just the two of them in this desolate void, and she couldn't resist toying with her sole source of amusement.

Fishing out a frayed piece of red string from his pocket, Caelus's frustration was palpable. "This. Explain," he commanded, his impatience clear.

Evaluating the piece of string, Sparkle pondered her next move. Caelus's piercing gaze sent a flutter through her — a mix of irritation and reluctant admiration. 'Curse his handsome looks,' she thought. 'Though it's matched only by my own irresistible charm.'

While she debated internally, Caelus gave a weary glance around them. The area resembled the Reverie, except it was filled with blue bubbles of various sizes floating aimlessly or sticking to the surrounding furniture and walls.

"How did we end up here..." he mumbled, more to himself than to Sparkle.

Seizing the opportunity to weave her narrative, Sparkle suggested, "Hmm, it could be that slash we saw before tumbling into this place. I must confess, events have taken quite the unforeseen turn."

Caelus's brow arched in curiosity, a seed of her theory taking root in his mind. "How did you come to that conclusion?" he inquired.

Perched playfully on the ledge, legs swinging, Sparkle shared her insights with an infectious enthusiasm. "What have your friends in the Astral Express told you about Penacony? They call it a 'planet of dreams', but they only scratch the surface. Imagine, if you will, that we can achieve anything here; every possibility, every chance — it becomes reality. But it's not isolated; our dreams converge, mingling with others in this world."

Caelus listened, her words somehow resonating with an internal truth he hadn't fully acknowledged before. "Mingling with others...? What do you mean by that?" he asked, his tone reflecting his growing engagement.

"Hmm, let's consider accidents within dreams. Each person's dreams are their own but shared in the collective canvas of Penacony, where they can intersect, clash. It suggests that our actions, even thoughts, might affect others around us, whether we mean them to or not," Sparkle elucidated.

Caelus absorbed her words, his frown deepening. Despite her whimsical manner, the Masked Fool's words painted a plausible picture of their current predicament. The mystery of their sudden displacement lingered in his thoughts, compounded by her theory of an accidental clash in the dreamscape.

Seeing his contemplation, Sparkle took the chance to delve deeper. "Like that slash — it wasn't meant for us, yet here we are. So, after my little explainer on the nature of dreams, how does death factor into your musings?"

---

While Sparkle reveled in her realm of chaos and Caelus grappled with the bizarre turn of events that had led him to an unexpected encounter, elsewhere the aftermath of Acheron's outburst unfurled.

Black Swan glided past the vigilant members of the Bloodhound Family, her attention fastened to the ethereal slice in reality left by Acheron's sword. The cut resonated like a whisper from beyond, its edges undulating gently, as if breathing, the other side a window to an untapped abyss. To her, the phenomenon was a mesmerizing spectacle.

Without a second thought, she materialized a card and sent it slicing through the air into the strange portal. The card, with its scripted path, melted into the unknown upon contact, dissolving as though consumed by the void.

A Bloodhound member, witnessing her nonchalant investigation, approached with a brusqueness borne of his duty. "Hey! This isn't a place for idle spectators! We can't have you interfering with the scene!" His tone was gruff, an attempt to exert control over the unexpected situation.

The Memokeeper faced the Bloodhound, conjuring another card into her palm. "Your manners leave much to be desired. A polite inquiry would have sufficed," she retorted with a quip as sharp as her summoned talisman.

Her riposte drew the attention of other Bloodhound members, who now halted their duties to cast hostile glares her way. "Enough with your snide remarks. It's best you leave before causing further trouble," one of them sneered.

The dismissive comment wiped the smile from Black Swan's face. She preferred to stand on mutual ground with those who recognized the balance of power. But here, before these self-assured wardens of the dream, she felt a provocation that could not stand unchallenged.

With a flick of her wrist, the card in her grasp ignited into flame and disintegrated. The members observing her began to stagger, their faces contorting in discomfort, ultimately succumbing to a faint borne of unseen forces. Black Swan watched with disdain as the Bloodhounds crumpled to the ground, their authority dissipating like smoke.

Acheron's voice then sliced through the scene's quiet aftermath. "Was that truly necessary? The Bloodhounds' superiors will undoubtedly take this escalation seriously," she said, her steps measured as she navigated through the fallen bodies.

Unperturbed, Black Swan smiled wryly. "I sought merely to quiet their clamor. I'm more intrigued by the remnants of your rage," she remarked, her fingers dancing tantalizingly close to the dimensional tear.

Acheron pondered the occurrence silently. The cut was not just a remnant of her temper—it was a gateway to the unknown, a fragment of the Dreamscape yet to be charted, fraught with sinister implications.

"What did that card do?" Acheron inquired, seeking understanding amidst the unfolding enigma.

Black Swan dispelled her playful illusion, her tone shifting as she addressed Acheron, "Scouting. Beyond this dimension you've inadvertently sculpted lies a realm I hadn't envisaged—yet in hindsight, perhaps I should have. Penacony conceals its dark histories, closets brimming with skeletons."

Acheron, arms folded, nodded in agreement. "As with many worlds. Though Penacony is widely regarded as a paradise where many seek refuge and escape. It may be a refuge, a dreamers' haven, but even here, in this so-called paradise, the shadows of their hearts loom, subtly weaving into the fabric of their ideal worlds. It's a bittersweet symphony, this paradise—where dreams can soar yet, in the same breath, reveal the depths of their soul's yearning." She spoke of the heart's shadows, which, even in paradise, weave covertly into the tapestry of dreams.

Black Swan's eyes closed as she absorbed Acheron's words, a hum of acknowledgment escaping her lips. "The families governing this planet have expertly obscured its truths. It leaves one to ponder what further secrets nestle within this dimensional breach we now face."

As they contemplated the possibilities, Acheron's gaze inadvertently swept across the area, her voice carrying a newfound urgency. "Where is Caelus?" The question jolted them both to a stark realization—the swath of destruction that beckoned like a siren's call had claimed the direction in which Caelus had vanished.

The disappearance of the scouting card, dissolved into the very anomaly they studied, signaled a disturbance that left Black Swan cursing under her breath. "Ill-timed, indeed..."

Meanwhile, Acheron grappled with a burgeoning guilt, a consequence of her unrestrained anger, a sentiment that was manifesting all too tangibly now.

They reached a silent consensus; Caelus had been swept into the unknown. Black Swan, despite her whimsical façade, found herself concerned for the Trailblazer's well-being. A notion foreign yet genuine.

She faced Acheron, but memories of a past encounter—Acheron, with hair pale as the driven snow and eyes a bloodied crimson—flashed before her, embodying the tempest of destruction.

With a measured calmness, Black Swan sought to steer Acheron's focus. "Caelus could be within that realm. We must act to retrieve him." It was a calculated risk to appeal to Acheron's sense of duty.

Acheron's demeanor eased, the resonant click of her sword returning to its sheath marking a return to composure. Black Swan exhaled silently; the crisis, for the moment, was averted.

"Then we proceed," Acheron stated, her voice cold yet commanding. With a mutual nod, the two women stepped through the dimensional tear, into the uncertain and possibly perilous voyage that lay ahead.

---

Navigating the ever-shifting corridors of the memory zone, Caelus advanced with caution, a stark contrast to the carefree demeanor of his only company, Sparkle. She embodied a sprightly spirit, her steps light and whimsical, as though every tile beneath her feet was a new opportunity for play.

"Hey," Caelus began, his voice laden with the weight of unanswered questions and unease.

Sparkle ceased her merry frolic with an exaggerated stumble, a playful grin unfurling across her face. "You can call me Sparkle," she announced with a flourish.

Caelus's confusion was palpable. "Sparkle, how is it that you know of me?" he pressed, struggling to reconcile with the notion that this enigmatic figure before him was familiar with his identity.

The expression that danced across Sparkle's features was a curious blend of mockery and disappointment. "Don't tell me you're unaware of the reputation that shadows your every step?"

His fame was a concept Caelus had scarcely entertained. "No, I don't," he confessed, his curiosity piqued.

Sparkle exhaled a dramatic sigh, placing her hands on her hips with a flamboyance that seemed to fill the room. "Ah, the digital labyrinth! A refuge for bored souls like myself. It was there, within the tangled web of social media, that I chanced upon a certain streamer in Xianzhou."

Recognition flickered in Caelus's eyes. "Are you referring to..."

She nodded with an enthusiasm that left no room for doubt. "Indeed! The Ghost Hunting Squad! After indulging in the virtual tales of their exploits, my investigation led me to your heroics in Xianzhou Luofu. To behold you in the flesh is a delight – your real-life presence is... rather enchanting."

A sudden self-consciousness seized Caelus as he registered the intensity of her gaze, laden with an unsettling intrigue. "Don't you dare," he warned, his plea echoing his discomfort.

Her response was a teasing pout, eyes gleaming with unvoiced intentions. "I haven't uttered a word~"

Caelus brought his hand to his forehead as he sighed in frustration. "You are just like Sampo..."

The name illuminated Sparkle's eyes with recognition. "Ah, Sampo, that dear rascal!" She mused, her voice a melody of fond memories.

Caelus regarded her with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "You know of Sampo?"

"Mmhm! He's an acquaintance," Sparkle hummed, her interest evident. "How fares he these days?"

Caelus, unaware of her underlying intentions, responded with his characteristic goodness. "He seems to be doing fine, I suppose. A troublemaker in his own right."

"And what do you think of him?"

Caelus paused, turning to Sparkle's expectant smile. He exhaled deeply before sharing his candid thoughts. "Sampo may be known for mischief, but it's not always with ill intent. He's not malevolent by nature. In fact, I'd call him a good man, a creative problem solver whose unconventional tactics can unsettle some. I pity the unfair treatment he often receives, but I trust in his ability to rise to the occasion and help those he values when it truly matters."

Sparkle mulled over Caelus's words silently. 'To realize someone genuinely cares about you,' she pondered internally with a smirk, 'what would you give to hear this, Sampo?'

Breaking her silence, she remarked, "You seem quite fond of him. Your words imply he isn't well-liked, yet you see the good in him."

Caelus nodded thoughtfully. "People like him often get judged too quickly. Everyone deserves another chance. I prefer to sort things out with conversation over conflict, whenever possible."

Intrigued by his view, Sparkle tilted her head. "What if they waste that second chance?"

Caelus, typically clear in his convictions, found himself hesitating. 'What indeed?' he questioned inwardly. 'Could I offer a third chance, or would I have to concede to harsher measures?'

Suddenly, he realized he was contemplating the Aeon, Nanook's, preferences.

"Trailblazer~," Sparkle's voice snapped him back to the present, her face now mere inches from his.

His expression remained calm, unreadable. Silent. He had no answer for her, not yet.

"I... don't know," he admitted, his voice a soft echo of doubt in the vastness of the memory zone.

Sparkle ceased her playful gestures, adopting a solemnity uncharacteristic of her prior levity. "You're uncertain? How intriguing. May I offer my perspective?"

Caelus gestured for her to proceed, his demeanor a mixture of curiosity and resignation.

With a graceful kick, Sparkle flung open a door, revealing a room awash with the glow of televisions displaying static-filled screens. She turned back to Caelus, her voice a crescendo of chaos-loving glee. "In a world rigid with rules, a second chance is a gift. But why stop there? As a connoisseur of chaos, I say let's be generous — third chances can stir the pot even more! After all, who's counting? In the game of mayhem, it's the unexpected opportunities that truly savor the flavor of upheaval."

As he mulled over Sparkle's philosophy of chances and chaos, Caelus felt the air thicken, a palpable tension building in the cramped space. The static from the televisions grew louder, more insistent, as if responding to the rising stakes of their conversation. The walls seemed to close in, encapsulating them in a realm where theories about fate and actions collided with the realities of their predicament.

His eyes drifted from the flickering screens to the shadows that danced just beyond the edge of the light. Something in the periphery of his vision stirred—a subtle movement, a coalescing darkness that seemed to draw in the scant light.

"SPARKLE!" Caelus's voice shattered the eerie calm as he spotted the looming figure behind her. The creature, a silhouette formed from the abyss itself, unfurled its imposing stature. Its chitinous exoskeleton gleamed with iridescent lights, casting sinister reflections across the walls. Golden talons, sharp and menacing, clicked against the cold floor as it stepped into the light, its vast wings unfolding with a rustle that mimicked the whispers of shadows.

He reacted instinctively, his bat summoned in his hand. With a swift motion borne of necessity, he hurled it towards the creature, striking it squarely. The impact elicited a screech that reverberated through the room, a sound too alien, too chilling for any world known to man.

As the creature reeled from the blow, Sparkle snapped out of her rhetorical reverie, her eyes wide with sudden fear. Caelus grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him as they made for the door. Behind them, the creature's tantrum intensified, its fury manifesting in a chaotic symphony of shattered screens and electronic debris that barricaded their only exit.

"Tch, we're trapped," he muttered, assessing the blocked doorway while facing the creature, whose many eyes fixated on them with unsettling intent.

"Just my luck," Caelus whispered, his sentiment a mix of resignation and defiance as they stood, bracing himself for the confrontation ahead.

End of Chapter

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A/N: Hello, everyone. How are you all doing today? Another Saturday means another chapter. Hopefully you all enjoy this one. That is all from me. Have a good day!