Livian

'The dream I wove became my own cage... locking me away from the world outside.'

She knew emotions were forbidden luxuries—for a beacon forged with purpose, finding the exit at time's end was her only task. She knew false dreams were perilous sanctuaries—for a being blessed with absolute reason, observing the ebb and flow of time and space was her sole mission.

Yet within her perfect logic, she grasped an unshakable truth: no one could halt the decay of time. Fear took root, and she began to retreat—soothing her despair with the tale of the 'Hero,' freeing her true self within empty fantasies.

When the ark at last broke free from its dream-forged chains, ready to sail toward unknown coordinates in time and space, only Livian turned her gaze toward that 'captain' from distant shores:

'This time, it's my turn to wake up.'

The Joyces once told me that my sister and I were created for a single purpose—to find a way beyond the end of time. We were 'compasses,' we were 'beacons,' but we were never ourselves.

When my sister was born, she was given too much emotion. Instead of joining their research, she preferred curling up beside the Joyces to listen to their stories. To escape the coming collapse of time, they created me—a more rational version of her. But back then, I didn't understand. Could someone like me really be called a living being?

I find myself sinking deeper into the 'dream.'

Oblivion draws ever closer, and no matter how feverishly I research, I always reach the same crushing conclusion: no one can escape, and no one will survive. The rationality Joyce and the others granted me has become the thorns that pierce my heart—it is reason that demands I find a way beyond Oblivion, yet it is also reason that whispers in my ear: 'None of this has meaning.'

Only within the 'dream' can I escape those relentless voices. Though it is nothing but emptiness, deep within that void I find a peace unlike any other. Yes... If we cannot escape the oblivion, then why not simply wait for the end to come quietly?

Noah Nevernight.

The name isn't unfamiliar to me. During our observations of time's flow, the Joyces have 'witnessed' this extraordinary being more than once. At first, I paid it little mind. But then I saw him—defying the constraints of time and death again and again, weaving miracles within that dying world. Could he be the 'hero' from my sister's beloved tale? All I know is that my once-quiet heart has begun to beat to a rhythm I've never felt before...

I began experimenting with the 'dream.' I conjured castles surrounded by forests, breathed life into monsters and the demon lord who ruled them, and finally shaped the villagers and treasures from old adventure tales.

—But it still wasn't enough. I had to find a way to weave myself into that tapestry as well.

'Livian, isn't this outfit a bit... over the top?' I can still recall the shy look on my sister's face when she first saw me dressed like that.

'But deep down, isn't this who we truly are? To cast off every restraint and burden, to forget every mission and task, and to live as we've always wished to be.'

The moment I awoke from the 'dream,' I understood the treacherous path my former self had walked—the road of hesitation and denial.

I am cursed, born at time's twilight, facing a world already bound for oblivion. My fate was destruction from the very start. Yet I am also blessed, for Joyce and the others gifted me with imagination, and my sister filled that imagination with color. From beginning to end, those who could help me have always been by my side.

What I needed was never a 'hero' to deliver salvation, but the courage to open my eyes. Fantasy offered sweet escape, yet only deepened my solitude; reality brings pain, but it also lets me feel the true weight of my soul—and that is the 'self' I have been searching for all along.