Chapter 1140: The Scenic Route
As always, if one were to ignore the firestorm and controversy raging beyond the usually safe confines of the dungeon space, then once again, it could be said that it was a bright, peaceful day filled with endless possibilities.
So endless, in fact, that on a bed far simpler yet infinitely more comfortable than what most elite nobles ever slept on, one very young official who’d recently become the center of discussion throughout the Empire lay flat on his stomach, having what had started as a perfectly ordinary dream.
Just like the many dreams before it, he found himself walking toward the medical bay.
While he couldn’t see it, he figured he likely had a familiar basket of honeyed treats in his hands. After all, if he was going where he thought he was going, then he couldn’t possibly forget about it.
There was the scenic route he always took. There were no rigid hallways or sterile corridors here, only open skies, fresh air, and nature stretching as far as the eye could see.
This time, however, something felt... different.
For some reason, his attention lingered on the flowers lining the path. Then again, that’s probably what made it a dream. He was so free and unhurried that he had the time to stop and literally smell the flowers.
To think that some people would dream of winning the lottery or maybe becoming renowned heroes, and yet there he was, dreaming about having such a leisurely stroll instead of rushing like every second was a matter of life and death.
Anyway, since he was already in this rare, peaceful dream, it was better to immerse himself fully.
The artificial flowers carefully maintained at the Imperial palace definitely looked great, but the ones at the dungeon space were simply on a different level. And yet, what was already crazy was even elevated in his dream.
The flowers bloomed in strange, vibrant colors that seemed richer than he remembered. Every petal appeared painted in hues so distinct they almost felt unreal.
And who knows, had he not had someone more important to visit, then maybe he would’ve stayed for far longer.
Well, maybe next time. f he finished his work early, he’d try to visit for real then.
Upon making such a compromise, his gaze simply drifted from one blossom to another until the familiar path finally brought him to the medical bay.
Naturally, he expected to enter through the usual door.
Instead, much to the lucid dreamer’s surprise, everything veered off course.
Entirely unaware of it, as Killian’s mind remained focused elsewhere, the sleeping young official quietly furrowed his brow into the pillow back on his bed.
Because rather than approaching the entrance, his viewpoint quietly swept around the side of the building.
Toward the window.
"???"
At that point, Killian simply chose to suspend his disbelief.
Definitely one of those lucid dreams.
Unfortunately, unlike most of his dreams, in which he could practically control everything, this one seemed to have a predetermined narrative.
Well, fine.
A surprise once in a while wouldn’t hurt.
And frankly, after everything that had happened to him lately, he found it much easier to simply accept whatever nonsense his subconscious decided to throw at him. Besides, perhaps even his mind was aware he was in need of a change of scenery.
Nothing particularly unusual happened after that.
His vision slipped effortlessly through the open window like a gentle breeze flowing indoors before taking in the familiar sights that had long since become commonplace whenever he visited Jax’s room.
Even in a dream, however, some habits apparently refused to disappear.
As his view panned out, his attention immediately landed on the water jar.
Empty once again.
Apparently, even after increasing the amount, it still wasn’t enough for this guy.
Just how much was Jax drinking before going to bed?
And how did he manage not to wake up halfway through the night because of it?
Or perhaps...
Did he fall off the bed again and sleepwalk his way to the bathroom?
Tsk.
But it wasn’t like he should get too worked up when this was a dream in the first place.
Thankfully, there weren’t any half-opened snacks lying around this time for the bees to crowd around, so that was at least that for consolation.
The dream continued moving of its own accord while Killian simply watched, merely observing whatever odd sequence his sleeping mind had stitched together.
Oddly enough, somewhere in the middle of all that, he found himself wondering why his first instinct had been to mentally tidy up someone else’s room.
Just what kind of unreasonable thought process was that?
Then his attention shifted toward the bed.
It was empty.
For a brief moment, he wondered where the redhead had wandered off to.
Then he heard it.
Or perhaps "heard" wasn’t quite the right word.
He felt it.
The deep, rhythmic vibrations of running water.
Killian’s first thought was that, ah, Jax must be in the bathroom.
Fair enough.
So he simply figured he’d wait.
Except much to his growing confusion, his point of view didn’t stop by the bedside the way it normally did whenever he waited for the redhead.
Instead, it continued moving toward the unmistakable sound of running water, making Killian momentarily wonder what exactly that was about before deciding that perhaps his dream-self intended to call out first and let Jax know he was there.
That had to be it.
Unfortunately, instead of hearing his own voice, the dream suddenly blurred.
Everything before him dissolved into indistinct shapes for only a brief moment before the scene gradually settled once more. The blur disappeared, replaced instead by a veil of warm fog, while the steady sound of running water became much louder than before. Unbeknownst to him in the waking world, the young official groaned quietly in his sleep because he immediately recognized where his wandering point of view had taken him.
Those were the shower doors.
The very same shower doors he himself had used before.
Just what kind of dream was this?
The question had barely crossed his mind when the steady patter of running water dwindled to a trickle before falling silent altogether, just as the glass door quietly slid open to the sound of cheerful whistling.
"!"
Immediately, Killian felt a surge of panic.
His point of view continued drifting closer without the slightest hesitation until the distance between himself and the figure inside shrank enough for him to clearly make out an unmistakably broad, well-defined back that was still glistening beneath streams of water.
At that point, the official was fully awake inside the dream.
Or at least he desperately wished he were so he could do something about thi-this... situation.
Because, see, the vision didn’t stop there.
Instead, it slowly began to rotate to the side, as though determined to inspect something else entirely.
"No..."
Killian attempted to stop himself, or perhaps whatever strange version of himself was apparently wandering around this dream, but neither seemed remotely interested in listening.
The view continued turning at a leisurely pace while the increasingly panicked official could do nothing except helplessly wonder what sort of deranged dream his subconscious had decided to torment him with tonight.
Then, before he could stop it, the figure shifted just enough for the front to come into view.
"!!!"
The moment Killian laid eyes on a bare chest that most definitely belonged to a blissfully oblivious, or perhaps simply unconcerned, Jax, the initially sleeping Nox jolted so violently that he practically launched himself off the bed.
"Ow!"
Now that was very real, alright.
His back slammed into the nightstand with a painful thud before he hastily caught himself, only narrowly avoiding what would’ve undoubtedly ended with him sprawled across the floor in a thoroughly undignified heap, clutching his offended back while blinking wildly into the darkness of his room.
For what felt like several long moments that, in reality, amounted to only a few seconds, Killian simply remained where he was, thoroughly disheveled and more than a little mortified—though whether at himself or at everything—he couldn’t quite tell. His heartbeat refused to calm as he tried to process what had just happened, his fingers raking through his hair in disbelief.
No.
Absolutely not.
He was already a grown-ass man.
Sure, he may be the Empire’s youngest Chief of Staff, and his mother may or may not think of him as a waddling child.
But still.
There was simply no logical explanation for why he’d just had the sort of dream that should’ve been reserved for hormonal teenagers going through puberty.
Heck, he hadn’t even been like that before?!
Was this some sort of delayed onset?!
