Irin stared at Ren, an incredulous look on his face, unable to speak for some time. Ren didn’t meet his eyes.

“That’s… No— Dream shards eventually turn into dream leeches… That’s how it’s always played out.”

“Let me ask you this then. If what you say is a rule of existence, how does it work?”

“How?”

“I’ve fulfilled my role in this exchange by telling you how Aetherflowers come into being, so why are the dream shards in the Confluence the way they are?”

Irin remained silent, searching for his own answer.

“I was told dream shards are manifestations of unfulfilled dreams. And as you said, if a manifestation is stagnant, it can’t resist the world around it. That’s why they fade, but…”

He glanced at the fields of flowers, holding his gaze on them for a few seconds before turning back to face Ren.

“Meaning without means is simply empty. Once their color—their Possibility—fades, all that remains is emptiness. That’s why they become dream leeches.”

Ren placed a hand on the ground, steadying himself before standing up.

“Come, follow me. I’d like to say I’m of a different perspective.”

“What?”

The two of them continued further down the path, the ocean of Aetherflowers continuing to stretch onwards. Off in the distance, their glow seemed to end, tapering off into an untamed wilderness.

“Your conclusion, I won't say that it doesn’t make sense, but is that really something you yourself know and believe?”

“Why else would dream leeches form from faded shards, then?”

“Compression. It all ties back to compression… Meaning without means is only empty when it is constrained—suppressed under pressure. Otherwise, I’d like to think that it is simply… not meaning.”

“Still, those are the same thing— An emptiness, an absence of meaning… those are the same as ‘not meaning.’ Everyone who looks at that fading would agree the dreams inside are just futile… meaningless… Maybe they weren’t some time ago, but in the present, that’s all that remains.”

“That is where you’re mistaken. Just because I said it’s not meaning doesn’t imply I think it’s meaningless. Meaning without the means to be fulfilled is, at its core, defiance against impossibility.”

Ren paused, turning towards the side of the path, before continuing to walk between the flowers, carefully stepping to avoid crushing them as Irin followed, doing the same. His eyes fell upon one whose petals had particularly faded, now simply seeming like an ordinary pale flower without vibrance.

“This one is on its last drops of Possibility…”

He cupped his hands around the stem, making sure to not make contact and disturb it. Then, he scooped his palms upwards, ever so slightly brushing against the petals.

The flower gave one last pulse of light—one that didn’t feel accepting. To Irin, it reminded him of a dying flame, releasing weak yet persisting sparks in hopes of springing to life once more.

With his left hand, Ren gently curled his fingers inwards, before turning his palm away towards the sky, releasing the fading embers of Possibility he had caught into the breeze.

“See? No dream leech.”

Irin didn’t reply.

“Let’s head back now. There’s more that I’d like to show you later in the morning.”

Irin nodded, still maintaining his silence for several minutes. Finally, as they began climbing the steps towards Ren’s house, he spoke.

“In the end… it’s all still Possibility.”

“Hm?”

“The Possibility remains, even if nobody else believes it can… But even a dream’s sole believer burns out eventually…”

“And that is why I will wait for them until that day. I cannot fulfill their dreams, nor do I have the right to extinguish them. So instead, I will stand beside them… if only to ensure there is one insignificant soul to observe the end of their journeys.”

“But… nobody deserves to have to be the one to give up on their dream…” Irin thought, wanting to voice his stance to Ren, but finding himself unable to.

《[Skill], [Systemization], is anchoring its [Roots].》

The next day, Irin and Ren prepared to depart before noon, but before they headed out the door, Irin found his eyes once again drawn to the single potted Aetherflower kept atop Ren’s desk.

“Won’t it wither if you keep it inside?” he asked, his eyes still trained on the flower.

“Aetherflowers aren’t necessarily constrained to the biology of ordinary flowers. So long as the dream within continues breathing, the bloom will shine just the same.”

Irin’s eyes lingered just a moment longer before he followed Ren outside. They descended the steps down the hill once more, this time following a different path that led into the forest.

“I assume you want to know why I keep that flower specifically?”

Ren’s gaze met Irin’s, who promptly replied, “Yes, if you don’t mind telling.”

“About a century ago, I once had a friend whose side I refused to part from,” he began, the sun’s rays filtering through a sparse canopy of leaves to grant him the spotlight. “In a way, I was like you on your current journey,” he added with a reminiscing smile.

Irin continued looking straight ahead, listening.

“You probably could’ve guessed, but this world wasn’t always so desolate. 89 years ago was when war broke out and ravaged this place, and I’ve been the only one here since my return.”

He paused as the lines of trees gave way to a grassy clearing, continuing onwards for a bit before dropping off into a cliff-surrounded valley. At that valley’s center lay a sprawling city, though not as large as the Confluence, that seemed to have sunk alongside the terrain. 

Ruined skyscrapers were dotted about like candles, some still standing, and others leaning or completely fallen over. What once likely was a grid-patterned network of roads running between the buildings now looked to only be piles of concrete and rubble that were clumped together in some areas.

As they approached the edge, Irin peered over, noticing a winding downwards path constructed from roots that stuck out of the cliffside. Evident worn spots marked the safest path that Ren led on.

“Do you see that tree over there?”

Irin only noticed it after Ren pointed it out—a massive tree supported by a thick trunk, over half as tall as those skyscrapers, watching over the abandoned civilization from the center of the city.

“It only appeared after my return. After she chose to stay— No, after I accepted leaving her behind,” he paused as he bit his lip, the only audible sound being the crunch of bark beneath their feet, until he continued, “Even now, I’m still not really sure how it got here. Perhaps a symbol of the war’s end, or a culmination of the lives that once lived here.”

The staircase of roots ended, forcing the two to jump down a couple feet before they found the ground comfortably underneath their steps again.

“Regardless, whenever I come here, I get reminded of her… and the beauty of a life so long as it exists.”

“But… what would you do if that tree fell someday then?”

Ren chuckled, “I guess even my sentiments are flawed. There’s only one answer… I’ll cherish those memories so long as I live.”

Their footsteps echoed along those empty streets, occasional winds whistling through the hollowed buildings, and the tranquility infrequently broken by the scampering of rodents that had taken shelter in the ruins.

Ren halted before he reached the grand roots of the tree, the portions above the ground tearing through earth and concrete alike.

“Going back to your curiosity, I found that Aetherflower right here, by the roots of this tree. To this day, I don’t even know for sure if it’s hers, but… I glimpsed the shape of its dream…”

“Shape?”

“Yes. Each and every dream has a distinct shape. That flower’s was a perfect ring.”

He looked upwards at the bright foliage, clasping his hands behind his back.

Irin decided to do the same, allowing his heart and mind to relax under that shadowed tranquility.

“However, the main reason I wanted to take you here was to show you this region’s Doorway—the one that leads to the Outpost,” Ren said as he began to trace along the circumference of the tree’s roots to the right. “I still wouldn’t advise going through, at least for now, but the choice is ultimately yours.”

A small portion of the ground seemed to dip down, slightly burrowing underneath an overhead root.

“Right he—”

Ren froze.

Ahead of them lay a blank dirt wall outlined by a frame of roots—slight indentations serving as the only indications of anything ever being there.

For a reason he couldn’t comprehend, Irin’s body involuntarily shuddered.

“I could've sworn it was right here…” Ren muttered, crossing his arms.

Just then, the entire valley began to tremble—all of the surrounding Possibility beginning to converge.