Back when she was a child, she used to daydream a lot. Pretend to be a hero slaying the terrible beast.

The other kids usually wanted her to play a different role, but they would all change their minds after some forceful convincing. She never wanted to be anyone else.

She wanted to be strong, courageous, and always arrive at the right moment.

Too bad when her home burned, she did nothing. She found no strength to step forward, tears filling up her vision. When he found her, he must have thought she was pathetic.

She didn't remember that moment well. In a blur, she suddenly was in a much bigger world, eager to get strong.

She tried. She really did. But no matter how much time passed, she didn't get closer to those heroes from the stories.

She wasn't strong enough to turn the tides of battle on her own, she wasn't brave enough to march against overwhelming odds, and she wasn't there when most needed.

But frustratingly enough, she met those who were.

She could only scrape by at the bottom, looking up at their radiance. She couldn't even be mad at them.

They truly were great. They possessed that something special that only real heroes had, and she didn't.

What was the point then?

She would've surely given up if she hadn't met him again.

…

When morning came, Cyril woke up in a terrible state.

His head was threatening to crack open, and a certain tightness emerged in his chest that gradually transferred to his throat.

I need to get up before it's too late...

Reaching the bathroom in a hurry, he lowered his head before a sink, closed his eyes, and barfed.

Standing like this for a few painfully long seconds, the feeling finally went away, and Cyril opened his eyes.

What greeted him was blood.

Lying at the center of the sink painted red was a mass of flesh, about the size of a fist.

What the hell?

Cyril recoiled a single step back.

"Are you fine, Cyril!? I am so sorry... This is my fault! Even though I promised..."

Rhamn appeared in front of him, looking over his state and the state of the sink with tears in her eyes.

What do you mean?

Before Cyril had the time to hear her answer, the small pile of flesh suddenly moved.

A red blur flew out and started circling around them in a manner that Cyril wanted to call joyful...?

He wasn't startled by this event, nor was he scared.

Cyril got a peculiar, instinctual feeling that whatever thing is happening, it won't bring him harm.

Taking a closer look at the unidentified flying object, he found out that it looks just like a butterfly with red wings.

He stretched out his hand, and the butterfly happily landed on his index finger after making another circle.

"In the middle of sleep I suddenly had the urge to... see a butterfly." Rhamn leaned closer to observe the creature on his finger. "And then it happened, as easy as taking a breath, I created her."

Cyril observed the small butterfly and the two bright red eyes behind it glistening with tears.

"It wasn't my intention, but I did cause you harm. I am terribly sorry."

"You didn't know. Don't worry about it." Cyril replied out loud almost immediately.

This apologetic look doesn't suit you...

The butterfly fluttered her wings a few times, catching his attention. It turned around in Rhamn's direction, and the antennae on her insect head twitched a little.

In this moment Cyril got a peculiar impression that this tiny creature was trying to cheer someone up.

I can understand what it is feeling, and it can understand us? Is it aware of you?

He shot Rhamn a look while the butterfly fluttered its wings in place.

She immediately raised her head, her red eyes slowly regaining their shine.

"I think so, yeah. There is a connection between us. Even I might be able to communicate with it... Watch," Rhamn said while looking at the butterfly.

She went silent, and in a moment, the butterfly flew up, making a loop in the air, before landing on Cyril's shoulder.

"I asked her to do that. She can really listen to me!" Rhamn exclaimed in one breath.

"We simply must keep her! This is incredible." She leaned in even closer, observing his shoulder with adoration.

Cyril glanced at the insect on his shoulder for a few seconds. The butterfly's compound eyes met his gaze without a trace of fear, only pure joy and trust.

"Sure. Let's do that." He replied out loud and turned his head away.

"That's great! I already have a name for her. Welcome to our little family, Morpho!" exclaimed Rhamn, her face lit up with the most radiant smile.

Morpho fluttered her wings in place, her antennae twitched in celebration. A genuine feeling of happiness spread from her to Cyril.

After snapping out of it, Cyril turned to look at the bathroom.

When Morpho emerged, she decided to race around the bathroom, sending small droplets of red everywhere.

Better start cleaning.

He sighed in resignation.

...

After he was done, Cyril sat on his bed wearing a blank expression.

Morpho landed in front of the window and looked at the outside world. Her antennae twitched occasionally as her compound eyes observed the park nearby.

Somehow, Cyril was able to tell that she was currently feeling anticipation.

I am not even sure there exists magic to let you do what I have experienced right now.

Slowly, he raised a hand and carefully felt his throat. The butterfly seemed to have torn her way out of his body.

Cyril no longer felt any pain, nor were there any traces, but the experience was a rather vivid one.

He still wanted to find out what was happening to him, even though this desire was no longer as strong as in the beginning.

Can you... create something living again?

"Yes, and I think I can create more than just butterflies. Of course, I won't do that right now," Rhamn replied immediately while straightening her back.

He didn't ask any other questions but simply observed the red butterfly nearby.

There was an undeniable, obvious sense of kinship between them. It was as if his heart held infinite warmth towards this insect, unable to garner even a drop of ill will.

Cyril had never experienced such a feeling before.

After a while he dropped onto his bed and let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling.

You are definitely no mere hallucination...