Wizeman, the god of Nightmare, hovered above the seemingly endless dark energy. With his jeweled collar and long black cloak, he was like a mighty tower of negativity. Six metal hands, matching his silvery head, floated open before him, allowing a purple eye in each palm to observe anyone who dared to enter his chambers. Presently they glowered down at two of his First Level Nightmaren servants, both crouched in a bow with a fist over each of their hearts.
His voice reverberated as he spoke. "Reala, Nights, I am pleased by the progress that my army is making in conquering Nightopia. However, more and more Nightopian dream worlds are forming with each step forward. We must find an alternative, more efficient method of invading the light of the Night Dimension to slow it down."
"Yes, Master," both generals said in unison. They barely raised their heads enough to make eye contact with their god.
"There is a more pressing matter at hand currently," Wizeman went on. "I have sensed a rare Red Ideya has appeared in Nightopia. One of you is to go out, collect it, and deliver it to me personally."
Reala took in a breath, but before he could say anything, Nights piped up, "I will go fetch that Ideya for you, Master. Reala is much better than I am at making plans for invasion; he can do that while I am out."
Wizeman's glare remained unblinking, unwavering. "Very well. Do not fail me, Nights. You both are dismissed."
The two First Levelers left their master's chambers. Reala locked eyes with Nights and raised one eyebrow. "Are you sure you're capable of making this snatch? Courage Ideya-holders can be a challenge."
Nights gave a brash nod and replied, "It's not like this is my first Courage-holder. I'll do fine."
"No, but it would only be your third." He paused to look her over, her outfit full of cheery violets and pinks, a couple of prominent stars on the front of her vest, the red gem on her shirt that gleamed in Nightopian light. "I just want you to be cautious, because they tend to fight back. You know that."
"Relax, Reala. No Visitor is a match in strength for a Nightmaren." A smile of pride grew on Nights's face. "Master won't be disappointed. In fact, he might even acknowledge what a valuable Nightmaren I am."
Reala quirked a brow at her final comment but said nothing on it. He placed one hand on his partner's shoulder and squeezed. "Then, I wish you luck."
Nights clapped him on the back, and they went their separate ways.
Nights glided up out of Nightmare proper, out of the Dark Ocean that swirled and shimmered underneath the faint glow of the stars in the sky. She was focused straight ahead, on the night sky, and soon she reached the stars to see them for what they really were. Each one was a large window into a dream world—Nightopia. The light of the Night Dimension. They drifted around in the air; the lower, brighter windows indicated sleeping Visitors. Dimmer ones were signs that the Ideya was hiding within the dream itself, rather than in the Visitor's heart. Her fellow Nightmarens glided out of windows that flickered and turned black, always with an Ideya in their clutches.
She examined numerous windows, sensing the Ideya that created each world. It did not take her long to find one made from Courage.
Upon entering the dream world, Nights received a flash of information in her mind about the Visitor. A young boy, about fifteen years old. Works on a ranch with his family. Fears wild predators killing farm animals, and having machinery malfunction in a way that injures him for life.
She appeared high above a canyon nearby an expansive, green plain. There were small barn houses here and there all across the plain, but the First Leveler had her eyes on the large red barn some ways off. With a grin, she made a beeline towards the plains and transformed into a hawk to better blend in.
She circled above the barn, keen eyes locked on the enormous doors, but after long period of no activity, she settled on its wooden roof. She could hear the boy's voice from within. Though Nights could not hear exactly what he was saying, the Visitor certainly sounded excited. She chuckled to herself—what great delight it would be to turn that laughter into shrieking.
Other chattering caught her attention, and Nights turned her head. A group of Nightopians, dressed in straw hats and overalls, was approaching the barn doors. The little pixies babbled in their unintelligible tongue, bouncing in midair and grinning amongst themselves like children in a candy store. One of them was holding a blue chip, a large, glowing blue ball that served as the Nightopians' food source.
In that instant, it had occurred to Nights that these were Nightopians in their true, pixie-like forms rather than disguised as farm animals, or something else to let them blend in. The Visitor must have been introduced to Nightopia before. It was not an uncommon thing, but it was always a surprise to know a Visitor was aware of the Night Dimension.
One of the Nightopians knocked on the barn doors. The Visitor's voice called out—likely a phrase like "Just one minute!"—then, with a creak, one of the barn doors began to open in a slow, outward arc.
The Nightopians gathered in a cluster in front of the Visitor as he emerged. The black-haired boy certainly looked the part of a rancher, in his cowboy boots and dusted shirt and vest. The dark shade of his olive-brown skin could have been partly the result of long hours outdoors. Nights stepped back a bit to be better hidden—a hawk like her would not be purple and pink.
The Visitor said to the Nightopians, "Hello! I think I finally worked out all the kinks to my creation. May I have that blue chip?"
He held out his hand to let the lead Nightopian give him the ball, and then he and the pixies headed back inside.
Nights flew some ways away from the barn door and landed on the ground in the knee-high grass, keeping low to the ground to avoid being seen. Inside the barn, the Visitor was crouched next to a black-striped white figure, pressing the blue chip into the side of it. He shut a small door as if closing the compartment on a machine. Nights squinted. The clean, white machine whirred to life, and the Nightopians cheered. It was a horse, a unicorn, she realized as the Visitor wandered around to the front of it, beaming with pride.
"I call it the Nightopian Flockguard 2.0," he told his companions. "It should be even faster than the Flockguard 1, with a stronger horn for bashing predators. Now, let's take it out for a test run."
An idea sparked in Nights's head. Taking to the air, she flew back behind the barn to avoid being seen, and she morphed into a wingless, serpentine dragon. Her Persona mask changed shape just enough to fit on her face. If he was afraid of mangling himself on broken machinery, she would use his robotic equine to her advantage.
She heard mechanical humming and hooves trotting along the grass before they broke off into a spring. She darted out from behind the barn and gave chase to the Visitor on his Flockguard, black mane flowing behind the metal beast. Nightopians hovering around the barnyard shrieked in panic. The boy looked back to see her right at his tail, and he squeezed the sides of the Flockguard with his legs. The robot picked up speed, easily evading Nights, until she drill-dashed. The energy that formed a wide shield around her as she dashed burned through the grass over which she flew so close.
The Visitor gave the side of his unicorn's neck a quick rub, and it turned sharply around to the left, avoiding Nights. She stopped dashing and wheeled around to keep up the pursuit, but when she began dashing again, she realized the gap of space between her and the robot's hind legs was widening gradually. What a nuisance. Her dragon form was one of her slowest forms. She morphed back into her true, humanoid form and continued to drill-dash. The gap of space began to close until the Visitor made his steed curve around yet again.
Nights again stopped her dash in order to turn with more accuracy, but a bright light surrounded the unicorn as if it were dashing her. She narrowly dodged it, the sparkles from her sleeves getting caught instead in the Flockguard's fiery shield. It and its rider came out of their dash and turned around yet again to charge Nights. They missed her.
The Nightmaren flew some distance away and transformed into her dragon form again. She curled her long body as she flew in figure-8s, taunting the plucky Visitor. Just as she wanted, they charged her yet again. She looped up and around so they passed her, and she rushed at the unicorn's heels, clamping down hard. With a few harsh tugs, she managed to rip off the lower hind leg of the Flockguard, making it fall and the Visitor go flying sideways.
Flinging away the metal leg, Nights flew over to the fallen boy, who rolled over onto his back, his face and hands scraped. A rumble rose up in her throat, "This is the end of the ride for you, Visitor."
She lunged. The Visitor held up his arm to protect himself. Before Nights had a the chance to pull back, she rammed mouth-first into the barbed spines of a round, spiked shield. Her shriek echoed across the open plain; her blood dripped a glowing white from her nose and tongue. She backed off, licking her chops and spitting out her blood, as her mind raced. This was a lucid Visitor, the most dangerous type of Visitor a Nightmaren could encounter—they could kill a Nightmaren. He was obviously skilled at creating objects from thin air, which was far more advanced than any lucid she had seen or heard of before. How could she take the Ideya of a Visitor with power like that?
Her serpentine body was crushed under a hefty boulder. She screamed out again, her breath cut off by its weight. In panic, she morphed into her humanoid form, but her hips and legs were trapped underneath the great rock.
The black-haired boy got up from the ground and dusted himself off. He gibed, "You sure are scary, you big, bad 'maren!" His shield had already disappeared, and he conjured a sword in his right hand. Nights's heart pounded, and her breath quickened. The Visitor limped towards her, favoring his left leg. "You chose the wrong person to pick on today. Any last words before I turn you into dream dust?"
Face scrunched in a grimace, Nights writhed under the boulder. Her arms clawed at the peaceful green grass under her to no avail. The gem on her shirt dug into the skin of her chest.
He was standing over her, gripping the sword in his hand.
Nights whimpered, "Please, don't kill me." How pathetic she sounded! "Let me up…"
"So you can ruin my Nightopia? Fat chance." The Visitor raised his sword, the tip pointing down, aimed at her back.
"Wait, wait!" She held up her hand. "I'll… I'll leave you and this place alone if you spare me."
He paused. "And why should I trust you?"
"You have my word." Her remark was half-hearted.
"The word of a Nightmaren. You aren't the first Nightmaren I've met, you know. I've had to wrestle my Ideya away from a few of you. Why should I trust you to hold your word?"
Nights struggled to think through the pain. Why… why… The Ideya! "Because I value my life more than your Ideya. And if I look like I'm going to go back on my word once I'm free, you have the power to stop me." She huffed.
Relief washed over her when the Visitor lowered his sword to his side. "You have a point." He stumbled back a few meters away from her and lifted his hand. The boulder rose into the air and landed with a thud in the grass beside her. He warned, "No tricks."
Nights clenched her teeth as she lifted off, not daring to bend her thighs or knees. "N-No tricks…" she agreed. Panting, she took one quick look at the ranch boy Visitor and almost thanked him before gliding with limp muscles towards the canyon again.
Nights's muscles ached so badly that she had trouble kneeling before her master when she returned to Nightmare.
Two of Wizeman's hands levitated straight towards her, purple eyes locked on her as the god demanded, "Do you have my Courage Ideya?"
Anxiety filled her stomach; her heart fluttered. She took one deep breath. "My apologies, Master, but I… wasn't able to procure the Ideya." Wizeman's eyes flared orange, and Nights blurted, "The Visitor was a lucid—"
One of his hands enclosed her. Her screams of pain echoed throughout her master's chambers. Wizeman brought her close to his face, easily twenty times larger than the boulder she had been crushed beneath earlier. "You failed to obtain the Ideya!"
Running out of breath, she gasped for air and hollered, "But the lucid almost—!"
"Be muzzled!"
He squeezed more tightly, and she gave one last yelp before holding her cries in behind clenched teeth. She squeezed her eyes shut to avoid looking at her master's fiery eyes, or at his metallic, eyeless face.
"You promised me the Ideya, Nights! An Ideya of Courage! Do you not understand how valuable, how powerful the Ideya of Courage is? You must risk your life for it! This is not, I am aware, the first time you have encountered a lucid Visitor. You should have known how to deal with it."
"M-My apologies…"
His hand opened just enough to give his thumb room to dig its claw into her back. His other fingers curled to keep his shrieking servant from escaping his hold. As he sliced through her clothing and flesh, he raged, "Contemptible slave, you don't seem to understand the severely of your failure in this mission. If it didn't take an Ideya of Courage to create you, I would dispose of you."
He threw her across his chambers, and Nights slammed into one of the pillars that lined the walls. "Get out of my sight, and tell Reala that I want him to procure that Ideya for me immediately."
Nights struggled to get airborne, her back soaked with blood, and with a quick, "Yes, Master," she hurried out of his chambers.
When she arrived at Reala's domain, he had led her through the nearly-pitch main hall outside his throne room to a particular branching corridor, just one of numerous others. In one room of this corridor was where he kept his medical supplies. Nights sat on a stool, her purple sensors folded before her shoulders, while Reala cleaned and treated her wounds. She detailed to him the events of her day since they had last met, in tears by the end. She deliberately left out the part where she had told the Visitor that she desired to live more than she desired his Ideya—she condensed that into "begging" for her life.
"It is just so infuriating! As if I hadn't risked my life for that Courage Ideya!" she complained, wiping her wet cheek with one glove. She winced a little when Reala rubbed some ointment into her deep back wound, but its numbing effects were quick to occur.
"What a horrific experience. Master wants me to wrestle with a lucid with that much power?" Nervousness crept at the edge of Reala's voice.
"He hardly allowed me to explain that much. He just called me a contemptible slave and sent me off with that." Nights pointed jerked her thumb to her back. "That was the worst part of it, I think. I wanted him to be proud of me, but this failure ruined that."
Reala pressed some gauze to her back and rolled the bandages around her torso, stopping at her front side. "Master Wizeman does have high standards. Even an understandable failure is a huge mark against you—and that counts for every one of us."
"I know… but one day, I really want to do something that will impress him. Make him see that I'm valuable, too."
"Well." Nights lifted her indigo gaze to her partner's face. His light blue eyes crinkled at the corners. "If it means anything, I'm proud of you. You stood up to a lucid and lived to tell about it. That is very impressive. Besides that, you're incomparable to the other cretinous Nightmarens we give orders to; that fact alone should make you feel distinguished."
She couldn't help but smile, and his faint beam grew. "You're right. It should. And I guess it does, a bit."
"Good." Reala took one of her hands and helped her ease up off the stool. "Can you move a little better than earlier?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. I left an outline of some plans in the usual spot. While I'm out, please look over them."
Nights bobbed her head. "Of course. And Reala?"
He paused and turned before he could reach for the door.
"Be careful. You know what that Visitor is capable of."
"I will do my best," said the red general. He held the door open for Nights, and the two separated in the main corridor.
I do not own NiGHTS, Reala, Wizeman, or any related characters. They are property of Yuji Naka and their additional respective owners. This fanfiction story was written for the nonprofit purpose of entertaining my fellow fans.
Also, I don't own Robot Unicorn either, though yeah, that part of the story was hella inspired by that ridiculous(ly entertaining) game from the adultswim website and Pik Pok.
Yeah, putting my author's notes down here because I don't want to spoil people with my disclaimers of non-ownership.