Chapter 57 Extra: Nightmare

Chapter 57 Extra: Reverie

Lanen groggily opened his eyes, still disoriented about the time and unsure of the current year.

He had been playing around with Lin You late into the night yesterday, and now his entire body was sore, making it difficult to even get up.

In intimate matters, the Young Majesty had initially been quite reserved. Even when Lanen gave intentional encouragement and subtle hints that they could do something, he would only make casual suggestions. However, under Lanen's deliberate indulgence and hints, Lin You began to show the skills typical of a seasoned otaku.

They became more and more compatible, more and more intimate, so upon waking up, Lanen instinctively reached out to pull the Young Majesty into his arms, seeking a good morning kiss.

But he reached out only to grasp at empty air.

His fingertips failed to touch the warm skin of his beloved, instead brushing against a chilly metal surface.

Metal?

Lin You's bedroom had no large metal objects except for the gaming capsule.

Lanen frowned, now fully alert.

"..."

He was not in the bedroom.

Before him was a desk of steel-gray hue, with a pure black pen resting on the pen holder. The walls were painted a pristine white, with a heavy metal door on one side. The ceiling was embedded with a row of downlights, even the projected light was cold white, solemn and majestic, yet lacking any trace of human warmth.

This was the military lounge.

The sound of military boots stepping on the ground came, and Devin opened the door, looking at him with some surprise: "Major General, what are you still doing here? The Third Prince is scheduled to visit the Third Army, aren't you going to prepare?"

Lanen's eyebrows twitched slightly, and his gaze fell on the desk calendar. Immediately, his entire brow furrowed.

The date didn't match; it seemed he had returned to five years ago when he had just met Lin You.

At that time, the Young Majesty was still the Third Prince. He had come to the Third Army for a routine visit, trampling Lanen's roses but taking his Iris.

Lanen had only considered it an interlude at the time, but little did he know it was the beginning of everything.

Devin placed two syringes on the table and sighed: "Do you want to inject some? When the Third Prince arrives later, you might have a hard time."

Lanen was still in the sensitive period following his first marking.

Lanen shook his head in refusal, wanting to say it wasn't necessary, that Lin You wouldn't deliberately torment him. But as the words reached his lips, his heart suddenly tightened, and a sense of foreboding rose within him, as if something bad was about to happen.

Lanen paused for a moment, then said: "Alright, I will inject."

He pushed up his sleeve and injected the cold liquid into his forearm. The liquid flowed through his muscles, igniting a searing, dull ache.

Synthetic pheromones were no match for natural ones and had side effects. Almost as soon as the liquid entered his body, Lanen felt a wave of dizziness. His temples throbbed with pain, his joints ached, and after steadying himself by leaning on the edge of the table, he smiled self-deprecatingly, thinking: "I've really grown accustomed to comfort."

The former Major General could endure all hardships without a change in expression, but after staying by Lin You's side, he hadn't tasted this kind of suffering for many years.

Devin said: "Prepare yourself; the Third Prince is expected to land in approximately twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes later, Lanen stood in the square holding roses.

The aircraft emblazoned with the royal insignia slowly landed, the cabin door slid open on both sides, and the Third Prince emerged swiftly, standing on the podium.

Lanen watched from afar, his eyebrows twitched once more.

Although they looked similar, this was not his little prince.

His little prince had a gentle temperament; even when trying to disguise his ferocity under the surveillance of the eldest prince, his eyes remained clear and bright. But the man on the podium had a sullen expression, his eyes brimming with unmistakable cruelty.

"..."

Lanen tightened his grip on the rose.

After finishing his speech, the Third Prince strode up to him, eyeing him with thinly veiled disdain, then snatched the rose from his hand, tossed it to the ground, and ground it under his heel. Crimson juice splattered, and the petals were crushed into a muddy mess.

Then, without so much as a glance at Lanen, he strutted away, head held high.

Lanen trailed after him, his face blank.

In a place where no one noticed, his fingers brushed over his chest, landing on the Iris medal.

His Third Prince had discarded the rose but taken the medal, smiling softly as he said, "I prefer irises over roses."

Now, Lanen still wore this medal, its intricate design of thorns and irises intertwined casting a silvery gleam. But the person who took the medal was no longer here.

The Third Prince before him was arrogant and rude. He walked through the exhibition hall with his chin lifted, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he glanced at the bloody records, covering his mouth and nose: "Blood is disgusting."

"..."

Lanen maintained flawless aristocratic decorum to placate the Third Prince. When he finally saw the Third Prince off and returned to his office, the perfect smile on his face faltered.

He locked the bathroom door, filled the sink, and scooped up cold water, splashing it on his face.

During this, Lanen inadvertently looked up and saw his reflection in the sink, looking utterly wrecked. Water droplets rolled down his hair, drenching the collar of his uniform.

...Where was his little prince?

This person was not his little prince. Where had his little prince gone?

For the next few weeks, Lanen exhausted every resource to track down the whereabouts of the person in his memory, but no matter how he inquired or investigated, he found nothing.

His subordinates told him that the Third Prince had always been cruel and arrogant. It was said that on the first day he moved into the prince's mansion after coming of age, he used the basement to whip and punish the females who displeased him.

According to the mansion's servants, the screams were relentless. When those females were dragged out of the basement, their wings were shredded, their backs a bloody mess, and they were barely alive.

Lanen gripped the investigation report tightly, the force almost crumpling the paper.

His little prince would never do such things. Although Lin You also had a special fondness for wings, he preferred planting kiss after kiss on them, teasing the sensitive seams with gentle touches. He cherished these wings more than Lanen ever could and would never harm them in the slightest.

Devin noticed Lanen's unusual behavior and repeatedly tried to probe, asking what had happened, but Lanen just shook his head and said nothing.

How could he describe it? The gentle, radiant little prince he remembered—the beloved companion of many years, his treasure; the clever and decisive king he swore to protect; the male who exchanged morning and evening kisses with him every day, intertwined so deeply with his life, the most important male in his life—was gone?

Lanen thought his heart was as hard as iron, that nothing could shake his resolve after the pursuit in District 23. But now, it felt as though a piece of his heart had been ripped out, leaving only an empty, dead silence.

Days passed like flowing water.

Lanen deliberately avoided meeting the Third Prince, burying himself in work to fill the void. After all, the Third Prince valued the wealth of the Collett family, and Lanen was merely an afterthought, so it didn't affect much.

During this time, scandals about the Third Prince kept reaching his ears—perhaps publicly toying with a female at a noble banquet, or being disrespectful to military seniors... In short, apart from being the Third Prince, he bore no resemblance to the person in Lanen's memory.

As time went on, Lanen even began to doubt whether the gentle, radiant little prince he remembered was just a figment of his imagination.

Soon, it was time for the Third Prince's coming-of-age ceremony, and he sent Lanen an invitation to attend.

The invitation was sent directly to the Third Army, received by Devin on behalf of Lanen. At that time, Devin sighed deeply and said, "This disaster, I'm afraid, will be hard for you to escape."

The prince's coming-of-age ceremony deliberately invited an unmarried female, one he had publicly humiliated, and his intentions were all too clear.

Lanen remained expressionless.

He resisted with all his heart, but he had to go. As a guilty person, he could deliberately avoid the Third Prince, but he could not ignore the prince's invitation.

The events of the coming-of-age ceremony mirrored those of his past life, but unfortunately, this time when White humiliated him, no one stood up for him.

Lanen lowered his eyes, listening as White piled accusation after accusation on him, silently accepting all the blame. He neither defended nor refuted, but some hidden wound in his chest festered and grew, eventually spreading like wildfire, turning into a sharp pain that pierced through his chest.

He truly missed Lin You.

At the banquet, the eldest prince once again produced the bottle of pheromone-addictive, and the Third Prince took him to the back room, sliding a glass of wine toward him.

The cherry-pink liquid in a tall glass resembled a noble's afternoon beverage, but Lanen knew how vile it was.

He lowered his gaze and reached out to grasp the glass.

This time, no one intervened to stop him.

This was the first time Lanen had tasted the addictive in two lifetimes. Unlike the crisp, sweet white peach wine, this drink was spicy and pungent. With one sip, it burned like sulfuric acid pouring down his throat, burning and stinging, causing his stomach to cramp.

Lanen couldn't help but kneel and vomit. The power of the addictive was far more than that. His body was consumed by an unfamiliar heat, and he grew dizzy, his limbs weakening. Eventually, he couldn't even vomit bile.

Yet, amidst his extreme physical agony, he couldn't help but sneer.

...So, this is how it was meant to be?

In Lanen's initial plan, this was exactly how it should be.

The Third Prince was meant to be violent and ruthless, employing cruel methods. He was meant to be humiliated, groveling for mercy. This was something he had long steeled himself for, and he shouldn't feel sorrow over it.

—Had he never met Lin You.

If he had never known kindness, never felt gentleness, perhaps all of this today wouldn't be so unbearable.

Lanen gripped the corner of the table. Under the drug's influence, his vision blurred, his hearing dulled, everything spun and swirled. But suddenly, someone touched him and called softly, "Lanen? Lanen?"

The voice was clear, distant yet near. In his daze, Lanen seemed to smell the scent of citrus, fresh and tangy, like dew on a summer morning, soaking the ripest fruit.

This scent, he craved it desperately.

The Third Prince before him didn't have such a fresh pheromone; his was spicy and foul. This citrus scent belonged only to his little prince.

In the emperor's bedroom, Lin You was deeply worried.

He had played a bit too rough with Lanen the day before. Lanen never called for a stop, instead encouraging him to go further. Lin You couldn't hold back and ended up injuring the general slightly.

The injury was in a private place. He fetched ointment to apply to Lanen, sternly refusing the general's further requests, then lay down beside him and fell asleep.

But he woke up in the middle of the night to find Lanen with a fever.

Whether it was due to the untreated wound or some other reason, the general was in a daze, his pale skin flushed with a deep pink. He seemed to be having a nightmare, his eyes tightly shut, eyelashes trembling slightly, his forehead drenched in cold sweat.

Lin You reached out and found the general's clothes soaked with sweat.

He tried to wake Lanen, but Lanen seemed trapped in a nightmare, unresponsive no matter how much he called. Lin You was at a loss and could only get out of bed to call for a doctor.

But before he could turn over, he was stopped.

Lanen had suddenly reached out, gripping his wrist with extreme force, as if clutching something about to be lost. Looking closer, his fingertips were trembling faintly.

So Lin You sat back down on the bed.

The general opened his eyes, blinking in confusion, his gaze still wet from unhidden emotion.

His vision took a moment to focus, first sweeping over the room’s furnishings—the warm yellow hidden main light above, the ivory-white curtains around, the familiar bedroom.

Then, his gaze fell on Lin You. The Young Majesty was clearly hurt from the grip, yet he didn’t push him away, instead leaning down to brush aside the strands of hair on Lanen’s forehead and checking his temperature before softly asking, “Lanen? Did you have a nightmare?”

The person before him looked concerned, speaking gently. Their skin was warm against his, the fresh citrus scent lingering in the bedroom. Though unaware of what had happened, the Young Majesty still released soothing pheromones.

Lanen reached out, pulling Lin You over and hugging him tightly.

His chin pressed firmly against Lin You’s shoulder, as if trying to bury his face in it. The embrace was desperate, as though trying to merge the other into his very bones, as if only this could dispel the unease from his dream.

Lin You raised his hand, hugging him back.

He felt like he was holding a large, furry animal, one that was still trembling. Lin You asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

Lanen’s voice came out hoarse: “I just had a dream.”

Only then did he realize his voice had become rough.

Lin You gently patted him: “What dream? Can you tell me about it?”

The Young Majesty’s bedroom was always maintained at the perfect temperature and humidity, the lighting soft. Lanen finally feeling embarrassed relaxed in this warm embrace.

He saw the fresh red marks on Lin You’s hand: “…I’ll get you some medicine.”

…A general of the Third Army, waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, pulling the Young Majesty up to hold him tightly, choking back sobs, seeking comfort—Lanen couldn’t fathom how he could be so foolish. If word got out, his reputation would be ruined.

Lin You: “It’s okay, it’ll fade in half an hour. First, tell me what’s wrong?”

Lanen: “It’s not a big deal.”

Lin You gently patted him: “It’s okay, I want to hear it.”

The description of the dream was scattered. Lanen, comfortably nestled beside Lin You, left out unnecessary details, only giving a rough outline, but Lin You still understood.

This plot was very familiar to him.

If he hadn’t crossed over, if the system hadn’t chosen him for this task, then the general before him would have met that very fate.

Lin You let out a soft sigh, then said, “Actually, I just had a dream too.”

“In the dream, I was a streamer, playing a game called StarCraft, when I was chosen by a system calling itself ‘NPC Role-Playing System for Tragic Protagonist Novels, No. 66,’ and transported into a tragic novel…”

Lanen listened quietly.

It was an equally bizarre and absurd dream, like a hastily made-up story, rambling and nonsensical, but when Lanen heard the system promise that completing the role-play would allow him to return to his world, his heart clenched.

He stared into Lin You’s eyes, stubbornly asking, “Then, will you leave?”

Lin You shook his head and held his hand, "I can't go anymore, Lanen."

"Many years ago, I bid farewell to the system. I told it that I would voluntarily give up the chance to travel between worlds and stay forever in the world of the novel, with the person I love."

As he spoke, his expression was earnest and serious. Lanen couldn't help but lean in for another kiss.

The admiral half-jokingly complained, "It's late at night. You don't know how charming you are when you say such things. If this continues, I won't be able to go to work tomorrow."

Lin You replied, "Then don't go to work."

After all, whether it's Admiral Lanen or His Majesty the Zerg King, they both have unused annual leave.

After a lingering kiss, Lanen's last bit of unease melted away. He softly asked, "In your dream, where would the departing system go?"

"System 66," Lin You looked up at the window, where the Zerg's starry sky stretched out, and beyond it, the vast sea of stars and the boundless universe.

"It would likely bind to the next host and move on to the next mission."

With that, Lin You clasped his hands together, his face showing compassion, "I heard that both the previous host and I scored at the bottom. His stage evaluation might not pass... All I can say is, good luck to him."