Notice: 'Life is but a dream...' Anyway, time for a little sexy! Nothing graphic, but it is important plot-wise so I don't recommend you skip it.
I'm still more of a genius.
Mutsumi smirked at Kururu's text as he snapped his cell phone shut. The comment could wait until morning – as soon as he was rested up, he would gladly show his poor, misguided yellow friend who was the real genius.
He pulled of his hat and rolled over on the bed, but before he had even closed his eyes the sound of someone knocking on his door drove him back to his feet. Huh. Who could it be now?...
He was not at all prepared for who stood waiting behind the door, although given their quarters he probably should have been. She looked barely over nineteen, and her body was a blend of lean and voluptuous – a recipe for almost unnatural perfection. The young woman was anything but bashful; she wore only a black lace babydoll that left nothing to the imagination and her confident smile and demeanor made it clear who she was and what she was after. Mutsumi gaped at her, his mouth becoming dry as he attempted vainly to make words.
"I, uh… I…," he finally made out, "I'm not very… interested… thank you very much…"
She pushed him back against the bed quickly to silence him and he suddenly found himself pressed violently against her barely-clad body. "And… and I don't have any money anyway!," he gasped, trying to wrench himself away from her advances, "So I really… I really don't think…"
"Listen very carefully to what I say," the girl hissed suddenly in his ear. Mutsumi stopped, his ears perking up with curiosity. He knew English well enough, although her heavy Bostonian accent was somewhat difficult for him to interpret. What interested him, however, was that her voice did not match her behavior; in fact, it reflected something like urgency… or fear.
"What is it?," he murmured, trying to ignore the feel of her arms and breasts sliding against him. He had already accepted that he would never love a woman – he had tried already and failed – but even for a guy like him, a situation like this could be pretty distracting.
The girl pressed her face into his neck before moving back up to his ear, and in that brief instant he could see her eyes flash toward the door and back. What was she so afraid of? Were they being watched? "Beware Nyarlethotep," she whispered.
He swallowed. "Who is… Nyarlathotep?"
She moaned loudly and pulled him down onto the bed, on top of her. Mutsumi groaned, but he wasn't sure if it was from vexation or something else. This woman was a damn good actress. "Nyarlathotep…," she murmured. "He is called the Crawling Chaos, the beast of a thousand forms. If you find him, do not speak to him – don't even listen to him!" Once more, she glanced nervously toward the door before continuing. "He walks this Earth under numerous guises, deceiving all he meets. He is the soul and messenger of the cruel and ancient Outer Gods; readily he enacts their will..."
"Reba!," came a familiar woman's voice from outside, causing the girl to jerk up in surprise. "Are you in there?!"
She hesitated, then answered reluctantly. "Yes, Ma." Moments later the door opened and Ma appeared, a nearly-spent cigarette in her hand and a bemused look on her face.
"Tryin' to make an extra buck off the clock? I don't think so, girly… go on, get outta here." She waved toward the door, and the younger woman sighed before begrudgingly standing as if to leave.
"Actually," Mutsumi interrupted, "I sent for her." He put on his most charming face as he winked in Ma's direction; he wanted to hear more of what the girl had to say. "I've got cash?"
"Sorry, kiddo," she sighed as she absently flicked some ashes to the floor. The younger woman – Reba – hastily followed Ma's repeated gesture to exit the room, leaving the two of them alone. "Peppers asked that I make sure you guys are undisturbed, and even though he's more than a decade my junior I have to respect what he asks. The boy may not look like much, but he's smarter than most people give him credit for."
Mutsumi chuckled silently to himself. Kind of like a certain green Sergeant I could think of…
Ma grinned and tossed the remnants of her dying cigarette to the floor, which she crushed with the toe of her boot. "Heard about what you and them aliens did over in Japan… takin' a crazy stand like that against all them Greaves. I appreciate it. We all do. Need all the help we can get." She took hold of the door and turned to exit, still smiling bemusedly in Mutsumi's direction. "Y'know," she commented, "I don't know you, but I can tell you're a good kid. Kinda remind me of my son." With a retaliatory wink, she pulled the door the rest of the way shut, leaving Mustumi alone in the darkness with his thoughts.
Nyarlathotep, huh? I wonder what that was all about?...
Fuyuki toyed with a tankard of strong-smelling wine as he casually observed the inside of the tavern. He had no intention of drinking, of course, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself by sitting alone and doing nothing. Someone would be coming to meet him soon, and until then it was best to keep a low profile.
The port city known as Dylath-Leen was the largest in the Dreamlands and possessed a uniquely sinister beauty. Her tall, angular spires were carved directly from the surrounding bedrock of black basalt, giving them the appearance of numerous towering stalagmites. Surrounding the expansive coastline were countless wharves, inns, and taverns such as the one in which he now sat; they were a popular retreat for those reclusive citizens of Dylath-Leen, their inconspicuous walls offering sanctuary from the cosmopolitan everyday.
"Ah! There you are!"
Fuyuki turned and smiled at the sight of his familiar consort, red-haired man whose ageless face bore numerous tattoos – the signs of a Dreamer. "You're late," he commented jokingly.
"For a Dreamer, there is neither late nor early," the older man replied with a laugh. "It is good to see you again, Fuyuki. How are your sister and mother? They are well, I hope?"
Fuyuki nodded and offered his drink to the newcomer. "As well as can be expected with all that has happened… I believe they're in Arkham now, with the others."
The Dreamer smiled. "Good. I knew I could count on Peppers to retrieve you safely." He sniffed the wine and, judging it to be safe and of good quality, took a tentative sip. "Things, however, are still bleak – surely you know this. The servants of the Tattered King have increased their hold on Earth and are now moving in on other worlds, including Keron."
Fuyuki frowned grimly. "Not to mention the hounds… they're still alive, and they won't stop pursuing us – or rather, me." He paused and gazed out the nearby window over the moonlit sea. "What is the situation with the dimensional rifts? How much time do we have?"
"We're sealing them as fast as we can," answered the Dreamer with a sigh, "but they continue to open at a faster rate. It doesn't help that Nyarlathotep has taken an interest in the situation and is working to block our every move…" He looked up at Fuyuki with a smile. "We mustn't lose hope though. With you and the others on our side, we will do everything we can to prevent the King in Yellow from entering the world."
They sat there in the tavern for the better part of the night in intense discussion, and just as the first rays of dawn were beginning to reach out over the water the Dreamer finally stood and ushered Fuyuki to do the same. "...anyway, you need to get back to Arkham now, son; I also have things that need to be done here before I return. In the meantime, I suggest you stay away from high-level spells in the Necronomicon." He winked, and Fuyuki smiled at him one last time as he turned for the door.
"Sure thing. I'll see you soon, dad."
All my life I've considered the battlefield my home.
Looking out now, I'm beginning to think I hate this home.
I'm not exactly sure how I got here… this battle was fought a decade ago, at least, but I remember every detail like it was only yesterday. The air is hot and dry; it doesn't even feel like Keron anymore. And the smell… there's nothing like that smell, the smell of burnt flesh – even if you only catch a whiff of it once, it will never leave you no matter how long you live.
All these bodies in the trenches… wait, is that Sumemei? I remember when he died; we lost too many good soldiers like him that day. And I was almost one of them.
More and more, I think I'm really hating this place.
What am I doing here again?...
"Maybe you're looking for answers?" I turn around. It's a god-damned Greave sitting there, just… sitting there… looking out into the setting sun and talking philosophy. Ah, to hell with it - I don't feel like fighting anymore. I sit down and talk over the smoldering remains of my fellow Keronians.
"You expect me to believe you have answers?"
It shrugs. "Not necessarily. However, I do believe you and I aren't so different."
I grunt to indicate that it'd better not piss me off. I don't think it's fooled; I know I'm not. Still, I think I'd better try anyway. "Hmph. I'm nothing like you."
"If you say so," it drawls, stretching out leisurely on the blood-stained grass. "But the way I see it, we're two of a kind. Peas in a pod, you could say." I want to argue, but for whatever reason I keep listening as he continues. "We live for death, the death of others. It's the thrill of looking into our enemies' eyes and seeing them go cold, the victory of seeing the work our hand – such power is our love, our life, our beauty. It is the only mistress we will ever need."
He's wrong. Or, at least I think he's wrong.
…Is he wrong?
"No," I say. I think there's something else, something that's more important to me than this. Something that I… love?... "No, no that's not right…"
The Greave is silent. Damn him! He's getting to me, getting in my head… but he can't be right, there's no way he's right. I remember something… something from long ago – or maybe not so long ago – that made me fight with myself the way I'm fighting now. Or am I really fighting? I think I'm just giving up, sitting back and waiting for someone to come save me… just like that time… just like… when…
Wait! Yes… yes, that's it! "N-Natsumi!" I jump to my feet as the memory comes rushing back. I don't live for this – I live for someone, a woman, a Pokopenian that I once considered an enemy! "Natsumi! Natsumiii!"
I run. I need to find her, but more than that, I need to get away from that mind-sucking Greave. I can't see it, but I know it's still watching me, laughing to itself because it thinks it's won. I want to kill it, but I won't; I'm not going to be like it is – I'm not going to prove it right. I'm going to find Natsumi. I know she can't be far, because I've finally realized where I am.
I'm in a dream.
And even though it's just a dream, when I find her I'm going to make love to her like it's real.
I've decided, and it's all thanks to that hell-blasted Greave. My life is going to change, starting today.