Dmitry pulled up to the Valentine residence at 11:45 pm. He parked the bike at the end of the driveway and Nero climbed off, removing his helmet. Dmitry pulled off his own for a moment, meeting Nero's gaze. The young Valentine's heart fluttered as he stared into those deep, indigo orbs.

"I hope you had fun," Dmitry said.

Nero nodded. "I did. I really did."

Dmitry smiled. "That's good. I'm glad to hear it."

Nero glanced down at his shoes for a brief moment. "Can I be honest?"

"Please do."

"I was terrified of tonight."

Dmitry's smile dropped. "Because of the Terror Born thing?"

"Well, not just that. But, this was my first date...ever."

"I find that hard to believe."

Nero chuckled. "Believe it or not, I wasn't the most popular back in the day, when I was with Deepground."

Dmitry paused. "You were with Deepground?"

Nero nodded. "The first time, yes."

Something seemed to flash in Dmitry's memories. A large, underground chamber, a woman in red, and a small child with long black hair curled up in a fetal position. He blinked and the image disappeared. He gasped. Nero gave him a worried look.

"You okay?"

Dmitry nodded. "Yeah, I...I just..."

"You just what?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"You sure? You look a bit pale."

Dmitry nodded again. "Yeah. I'm sure. Probably had too much to eat, indigestion."

"If you say so."

Dmitry started up the bike again, putting his helmet back on. "Maybe we can get together again sometime. If you want."

"Yeah. Sure. Tonight was fun. Thanks for supper and the drive."

"No problem. I'll, uh, see you around."

"Safe travels."

Dmitry smiled and drove off. Nero made his way up the driveway and up the porch steps. He opened the door and walked into the house. He headed for the stairs, stopping when he heard a voice come from the living room.

"Fun night?"

Nero turned to see Vincent sitting in his usual place on the couch, curious look in his red eyes.

"Honestly, yes," he replied, walking into the living room. "It was."

Vincent smiled and nodded. "Good, good. The boys are asleep. They were up late."

"Couldn't wait up any longer, huh?"

"Too used to going to bed early."

"I guess."

Vincent got up from the couch and turned off the lamp. "Well, since you're home safe and sound, I think I'll head to bed, myself."

Father and son headed upstairs, each going to their own rooms after biding each other goodnight. As he closed the door, Nero leaned up against it, mind racing. He found himself smiling as he thought back over the evening. He never thought he would smile over the thought of spending a night with Dmitry, but it felt good. Almost...normal. Like Deepground had never happened. Could he dare to hope that this Dmitry was different? It almost seemed too good to be true, as though it were all some elaborate dream.

Nero got undressed and pulled on his pyjamas, climbing into bed and snuggling under the covers. He closed his eyes, slipping into a deep, restful sleep with a smile touching his lips.

Dmitry tossed and turned, groaning in his sleep. The bed felt too warm, sheets constricting around him, trapping him in the dream world.

He walked into a massive underground chamber that looked to be something out of a nightmare. A large stone alter stood on a podium in the center. He looked around, finding no one else. Heart sinking into his stomach, he made his way over to the alter. He swallowed hard as his heart skipped a few beats. Crimson stained the stone, as if something had been slaughtered on it.

He backed away, fear and terror holding him in their icy grip.

"Like it?" came a sudden voice.

Dmitry stopped, blood running cold. He knew that voice, but it sounded darker, more menacing. The voice made from nightmares.

"I'm planning on making the whole world this way," the voice continued from the abyss.

He turned his eyes upward, towards a large stone hovering above the alter bound in chains. A figure emerged from behind it. Long purple hair flowed down over broad shoulders. Leathery wings stretched out from the figure's back. Black, glistening horns curled around his pointed ears. However, it were the eyes that froze Dmitry in place. Deep, cold, evil purple.

"Who are you?" he whispered, fearing the answer.

The figure crawled down the stone, smiling. "You don't recognize this place?"

Dmitry shook his head. "Should I?"

"This is your home."

He couldn't move. He felt cold, numb. Why couldn't he wake up?

"My home is Midgar," he rasped, voice hoarse from fear.

The figure smiled and laughed, deep and threatening. "Dear sweet, naïve Dmitry. Already living a lie without knowing it."

"What do you mean?"

The figure dropped down to the alter, flexing its wings. "Midgar is the home of dreamers."

"Midgar is reality."

The figure scoffed. "Reality is wrong. Dreams are real."

Dmitry let out a small, quick breath. Why did that sound so familiar? The figure smirked, seeing the look on his captive's face.

"Did I strike a nerve?"

Dmitry shook his head. "This isn't real. You're not real."

"Oh, I am very real," the figure said, voice low.

In a split second, the figure disappeared in a burst of sand and reappeared behind Dmitry, forcing him to his knees. The figure grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back, causing Dmitry to cry out in pain. The figure gripped the back of his neck with an iron hand.

"Take a good long look, Dmitry."

He strained to look up. A child lay on the alter, bound in chains. Long black hair flowed in a tattered mess around the boy's head. Blood pooled around him, dripping off the stone. His stomach lurched and he began to heave, yet nothing came.

"This is what they don't want you to remember. This is why they've put your head in a fog."

"Stop," he groaned. "Please."

"You were the Terror Born, master of dreams and ruler of nightmares."

The figure threw him forward. Dmitry caught himself, hands digging into the hard rock beneath him.

"And now look at you," the figure snarled. "They've tamed you." Its voice became like silk. "But, no matter. Every tapestry can be unwound." It ran its fingers up Dmitry's neck, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "All you have to do...is find the right thread."

"I'll kill you, you demon!" a voice screeched through the chamber.

Dmitry shot up in bed, eyes wide in terror. A deep, haunting laugh echoed in his thoughts as he gasped for breath.

"Pleasant nightmares, Terror Born," the voice said.