SHK CH 775 (Patreon)

Inside the void of the Dream World, Sol advanced leisurely as if he were walking into his own backyard and only stopped once he was in front of Echidna, giving her his back.

He was wearing his black wedding suit with traces of nascent divinity pulsing from it.  The clothes were clearly on the verge of transforming into true divine weapons, lacking only sufficient energy and a more distinct concept. 

His golden hair was neatly combed, while his eyes—primarily blue—flickered with residual hues: crimson, silver, and gold like a rainbow of multiple colors before those swiftly vanished and settled once again on a simple blue.

Hypnos’s own golden eyes twitched as he observed the young prince appear in what should have been his domain.

His domain—Elysium, the land of dreams—was not meant to be trespassed. It was built from his will, shaped by his thoughts, and reinforced by the veil separating dream from reality.

And yet, the impossible had occurred.

“How?” He asked with gritted teeth, his fist tightening as hundreds of possibilities flowed in his mind. At first, he wondered if this was nothing more than a projection or an avatar. 

This possibility, while low, would have been at least slightly more logical. It would have simply meant that he had used a loophole by using Echidna as a medium. 

But this was not the case. He could feel that the one standing here was undoubtedly a true body made out of flesh and blood, and while he had never met Sol himself, the divine power of Luxuria could be felt from him. Albeit far weaker than Hypnos expected from a Blessed like him. 

“How did you enter this place without my permission?” He asked once again. But Sol simply smirked.

“So you really don’t remember? It seems I really managed to stop your previous avatar from transmitting information.” Sol mulled, a finger scratching his chin. 

“Answer me!” Hypnos shouted, and with his voice, the realm started to wrap. The scenery changed, reflecting —

Crack Crack Crack

—Pure nothingness.

“I heard your discussion earlier, and I am sorry to say that while I am not as insane as Ecjhidna, your Elysium could never reproduce my dream.”

The space exploded like a broken mirror, and they were once again back in the void.

Echidna stepped back and bowed her head —if only slightly. She had played her part. Stalled the dream god just long enough for the impossible to become inevitable. The moment Hypnos had focused too much on interpreting her motives, she had already fulfilled her role.

The threads had been severed. The gate had been opened. Sol had entered.

“Did you really have to insult me while explaining?” Echidna asked, bemused, and Sol shrugged. 

“Sorry, this was the best analogy I could conceive.”  He did not sound sorry at all, realized Echidna, and so she decided to drop this particular topic.

“Never mind. How is the situation outside?” 

“Stable. The ceremony concluded beautifully. Ambrosia and Lilith are fighting Euphoria. The witches went to recover the fallen part of Asmodeus. I sent Wukong to Wratharis just in case anyone attacked there, and the others stayed to defend Lustburg and keep some of the important guests occupied.”

It was a simple and concise summary of the situation, but this did nothing but intrigue Hypnos further. 

The rising anger gave place to a cold calm as he analyzed all the information he had about Sol. 

Hypnos slowly began to understand why Sol had sent Echidna despite all the possible danger involved. 

She had been bait, a distraction, and he fell for it hook and sinker. Once inside his domain, she had waited for Sol to trace her anchor—her soul—and enter through it.

The Prince hadn’t just found a loophole. He had made one.

And now he stood in Hypnos’s throne room—neither asleep, nor dreaming.

Sol could see the dawning understanding in Hypnos’s eyes, but said nothing.

He did not need to.

His presence alone declared the turning of the tide.

And for the first time in millennia, Hypnos—the god of dreams—began to question if he was, perhaps, still dreaming himself. Because what stood before him... should not have been possible.

Yet it was all too real now.

And that was the problem.

He promptly discarded all the data he had about Sol. He realized that they were all severely wrong or outdated. Trying to understand him with such flawed information would only result in an even more humiliating defeat. 

The more he observed him, the more layers of secrets were being unraveled, revealing a depth that brought him trepidation.

He is still a King level, right? Hypnos paled as he remembered one important fact. 

This was different from Lilith's situation. She had already nearly both feet in the demigod realm and only lacked a territory. Sol, meanwhile, only became a King a few weeks ago. 

At this distance, he realized once again how absurd some things could be. His heart refused to accept that such an absurd irregularity could exist, but his mind forced him to face the undisputable reality. 

“What are you?” Hypnos whispered loud enough for Sol to catch on.

The surrounding dreamscape fractured again. Creeping veins of golden light and thin threads of possibility, of endings and beginning, bled into the fabric of dreams, fighting and wrestling control from him.

“This is an interesting question. I am many things. A handsome boy envied by many. A prince about to be crowned. A man about to be married. A dragon, or even a god for some. But for you?”

From beneath Sol’s feet, a darkness deeper than void began to spill outward. It moved against the logic of the Dream World, not flowing but crawling, like a living ink stain that bled through the seams of reality itself.

“I am the crawling monster that hides beneath the stairs.”

The golden hair of Sol was replaced by beautiful silver, and his blue eyes changed into a rainbow hue. A maniacal grin splattered on his face as he watched Hypnos.

The shadow parted. It was not merely the absence of light but rather an entity that moved with a specific purpose.

Hungers. 

“The shadow that lurks in the darkness.”

One, dozens, hundreds, then thousands of pale, vertical-slit eyes opened within the inky mass, blinking silently across every axis of perception. 

Each one tracked Hypnos, indifferent to time, untethered from causality. The eyes were all of different colors. But the hunger in them was unmistakable. 

As if on cue, Mouths followed. Fanged, twisted, grinning maws filled with serrated teeth, smiling inhumanly wide.

“And I will become your worst nightmare.”

Some chattered soundlessly. Others laughed in impossible frequencies—mocking the concept of sanity. 

“So tell me, oh esteemed God of Dream.”

A few began to whisper words that could barely be understood, and Hypnos felt those whispers inside him, like parasites threading through the marrow of his bones.

"How do you think this story will end?"

(AN: Sol faced Hypnos in CH 626. Lol, ngl. Sol is becoming less and less humanlike whenever he fights.)