Awakening from Illusion

Nox sat on the edge of his hospital bed, his eyes fixed on his mother's face. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the weight of the words he was about to speak. The room seemed to shrink around them, closing in with a suffocating intensity.

"Mom," he began, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and sorrow, "I need to ask you something, and I need you to listen to me very carefully."

His mother's brow furrowed, concern etched across her features. "Of course, sweetie. What is it?"

Nox looked down, his hands trembling in his lap. He felt a lump forming in his throat, making it difficult to speak.

"What would you do if... if I told you that the person you lost, the one you loved the most, was right here in front of you, but... but it was all just an illusion? A fake?"

Silence hung heavy in the room, pregnant with unspoken emotions. Nox dared not meet his mother's gaze, fearing the pain he might see reflected in her eyes.

His mother's voice trembled as she reached out, gently cupping his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"Noxy, what are you trying to say?"

Tears welled up in his eyes as he met her gaze, his voice choked with anguish.

"Mom, you're...you're not really here. you're not real. All this is just an illusion, a trial the calling mustered up. You are here... but you're not really here."

Nox paused to get his thoughts in order.

"It's been 11 years since you passed away. And, even in the visions I experienced, you were still there."

The calling exploits one's saddest memories slowly breaking down the person with hallucinations and voices that echoed in their head.

"Nox..." Her voice quivered, a single tear streaming down her cheek. "Are you saying... I'm not real?"

Nox's heart shattered at the sight of his mother's anguish. He reached out, desperate to bridge the growing chasm between them.

"No, Mom, you're real. I am real, but... but only in my memories."

A torrent of emotions washed over his mother's face—pain, confusion, and a deep sense of loss. She collapsed onto a nearby chair, her hands covering her mouth as she tried to stifle her sobs.

"Noxy... my sweet, beautiful Nox," she whispered between broken breaths. "How could this be? How could you suffer for so long?"

Nox approached her cautiously, his own tears streaming down his face. He knelt in front of her, reaching out to hold her trembling hands.

"Mom, please understand. It wasn't a lie. It was my desperate attempt to be with you, to feel your love again. I didn't want to accept that I was gone, that you had lost me."

His mother's sobs filled the room, her body convulsing with grief. Nox wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, seeking solace in their shared pain.

They clung to each other, their tears mingling in a bittersweet union. In that moment, they found a fragile comfort amidst the devastating truth. The room echoed with their cries, the weight of their shared

The hospital room became their sanctuary, a cocoon shielding them from the harsh reality that awaited outside. Nox's mother would sit by his side for hours, her touch a soothing balm to his weary soul. They would talk about the calling and how this was all a trial that nothing was real.

"Nox," his mother whispered softly one evening, her voice quivering with suppressed emotions, "I wish we could stay like this forever. Just you and me, safe and sound."

Nox gazed into her eyes, the depth of his love and longing mirroring his own. "I wish the same, Mom."

She took a deep breath before opening her mouth.

"Noxy you have to surviv…"

The weight of those words hung heavily in the air, suffocating them both. Nox's heart ached with a mixture of gratitude and despair. He clung desperately to the illusion.

Days turned into weeks, and Nox had long searched around the City

He scoured every alley, explored every abandoned building, and wandered the labyrinthine maze of the city, seeking for the daemon.

But, there was nothing.

No daemon, no calling, no suffering. This illusion, this place was actual paradise.

a fleeting thought crept into Nox's mind.

"Maybe I should just stay here?"

He closed his eyes, summoning the image of his mother. Her gentle smile, her comforting embrace—it was as if she were standing right there beside him. The pain of her loss echoed through his heart, reminding him of the void that had consumed his life. He wondered what she would say if she could see him now, lost in this dream.

But then, Celeste's face appeared in his thoughts. They had once been inseparable, bound by a deep love that transcended the ordinary. Yet, after his mother's death, they drifted apart. Grief had wedged its way between them, and they found themselves unable to bridge the growing divide. Nox was left alone, his heart yearning for the connection they had once shared.

Nox sighed.

A pang of longing tugged at his chest as he recalled the memories they had created together in this illusion. The laughter, conversations —they were fragments of a time when happiness felt within reach.

Celeste's words echoed in his mind, as if she were standing before him once more, saying, "Well, maybe you're in a dream or something. Ever considered that?"

It struck him then—the realization that if this dream world was indeed devoid of the daemon that haunted his reality, then it was really all merely an illusion.

A paradise painted by his desires, yet ultimately unattainable. A nightmare disguised as a dream.

And maybe if the daemon wasn't here, then it was somewhere on the other side.

He ran out from his apartment.

Nox's heart raced as he sprinted down the hallway, his sneakers padding against the floor. He finally reached Celeste's apartment and knocked eagerly on the door, his breath coming in quick bursts. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Celeste's mother, a warm and welcoming presence.

Celeste's mother, Mrs. Adaline stood before him with a friendly smile. She had a graceful air about her, her black hair cascading down her shoulders in loose waves. Her eyes sparkled with warmth and kindness as she looked at Nox.

"Well, hello there, Nox," Mrs. Adaline greeted him warmly. "What brings you here in such a hurry?"

Breathing heavily, Nox quickly replied, "Hi, Mrs. Adaline! Is Celeste home? I need to see her urgently."

Mrs. Adaline's smile widened. "Oh, yes, she's home. She's in her room, engrossed in one of her video games. I'm sure she'd be thrilled to see you. Go ahead, just remember to take off your shoes."

Nox nodded eagerly, his gratitude evident. "Thank you, I'll be sure to take off my shoes."

As he entered the apartment, Nox hastily removed his sneakers, leaving them by the entrance. Without wasting a moment, he made a beeline for Celeste's room, the anticipation fueling his urgency.

Bursting into Celeste's room, Nox found her sitting cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in a virtual world on her screen. He barely caught his breath before he blurted out his question.

"Celeste! I need your help! If you were in a dream, what would you do to wake up?"

Startled by Nox's sudden urgency, Celeste paused the game, her brow furrowing with confusion. "What? Nox, what are you talking about? Why do you need to wake up from a dream?"

"Is this about the joke I made."

Nox pressed on, urgency evident in his voice. "Please, Celeste, just think about it! If you were trapped in a dream, how would you escape?"

Caught off guard, Celeste took a moment to contemplate Nox's words. She closed her eyes, furrowing her brows in deep thought. After a pause, she opened her eyes and looked at Nox, her voice steady.

"To wake up from a dream... you would have to die," she said, her tone filled with a mix of uncertainty and realization.

Nox's heart skipped a beat at her answer, a mixture of relief and concern flooding his thoughts.

A sense of unease washed over him as he acknowledged the stark truth—that to wake up from this nightmare, he would have to meet his demise within the confines of the dream.

"Thank you, Celeste," he replied, his voice filled with a newfound determination.

"I think I know what I need to do."

He ran back out of Celeste's apartment without even putting his shoes back on.

In a frenzied rush, Nox burst through the door of his own apartment, his heart pounding against his ribcage. With every step, urgency fueled his movements, his mind consumed by an unknown force. Without hesitation, he sprinted towards the kitchen, his sole focus fixated on the drawer.

His fingers trembled with anticipation as he jerked the drawer open, searching desperately for a glimmer of salvation. Amongst the clutter of cutlery, his eyes darted frantically, seeking out the sharp glint of a knife. In this alternate realm, unrestrained by the shackles of conventional limits, his actions were propelled by an unrestrained determination.

Time seemed to blur, and the world around him faded into insignificance. The clatter of metal against metal reverberated through the room as Nox's hand found its prize—a gleaming, formidable blade. Gripping it tightly, his knuckles whitened, mirroring the intensity of his emotions.

His hands trembled with a mixture of fear and determination, his mind plagued by doubts and hesitations.

Gritting his teeth, Nox mustered every ounce of courage he possessed and pressed the cold steel against his chest, directly above his heart. His hand shook uncontrollably, the tip of the blade quivering as it hovered just above his flesh. The weight of his decision bore down on him, the realization that he had to sacrifice this perfect dream.

With a sharp intake of breath, Nox pushed the blade forward, piercing his own skin.

"Tsk…