A Dream, Can It Come True?!
episode 03 {Actually this is a dream or reality?!}

Rainwater violently soaked the earth tonight, lightning and singing lightning also danced merrily over the starless dark night sky. Under the torrent of rain, a middle-aged man stood up. His body was wet with water falling from the sky, his red hair blazing brightly as lightning danced, his bowed face staring at the wet ground, looking up. His face was like perfection, his eyes were blue like the sky in the daytime, his thick eyebrows with pliable eyelashes made his face perfect, his nose, his lips, like a living work of art..!

Everything in that man was truly "Failure…!" What's?!

"Failure..!" The man's shoulders trembled, he stared towards his hand, red. With him in a beautiful red color, the man's blue iris turns to face towards the back.

A tall pile continues to be visible as far as the eye can see. Hands, feet, heads are all separated. Human corpses, piles of human corpses! That's what the middle-aged man saw…

"WHEN YOU'VE KILLED SO MANY LIVES, BUT HOW CAN YOU STILL LOSE?! YOU USELESS BASTARD!!"

"YOU KILLED YOUR WIFE, THE CHILD-TO-BE IN HER STOMACH, ALL THE ORDINARY INNOCENT PEOPLE, THE SOLDIERS. YOU KILLED THEM ALL! YOU DICK!!"

The hands from the pile of corpses began to move, clutching the legs of the middle-aged man who continued to rampage. "Why? Why did you kill us? What's our fault?"

"Darling, you killed myself and our future son? How could you possibly be this heartless?! I hate you!"

"Your Majesty Grand Duke Marcel, we trust you wholeheartedly, but why did we die so horribly?! Why?!"

"That's all Grand Duke's fault!!"

The voices of hatred that were out of nowhere continued to be heard, they shouted, angry, crying all those voices voiced the contents of the heart that they had been quieting. All the piles of corpses drowned the middle-aged man, bringing himself away into agony.

The lightning that was dancing beautifully over the starless night sky, made the dark sky bright. In a room, a teenage boy awakens from his break. The teenager looked confused, dizzy and frightened. He saw his hands, the hands were quite small was not filled with blood, look clean even though little visible scratches and incisions sharp objects. "Hosh.hosh.." His breathing is irregular, tight.

Teenage man got up from his bed, approached the mirror in the corner of the room. He saw the reflection in the mirror, staring and touching every part of his perfect face. Her blue irises are like the sky during the day, thick eyebrows and plump eyelashes that add perfection, a nose and lips that are like living works of art. His face was really close to perfect..!

The teenager fell silent, continuing to look at the reflection of the mirror. "What the fuck? So this is all a dream in a dream? Or is it a real reality?!" The young man muttered, talking to himself like a madman.

"Marcel?"

A familiar voice in his ear sounded, it was his father's voice. "What's wrong? Nightmare time?" The father's voice drew closer, and finally he was really behind the mirror, behind me.

Silence, silence greeted us as my father and I looked at each other in the reflection of the mirror. My dark black hair is inversely proportional to my red hair. Whether it's just my feelings or what, every time Dad saw my hair his eyes always looked sad.

"It was almost morning, apparently." Father turned his eyes away, looking at the large window that displayed a view of the starless dark sky, neither rain nor lightning nor lightning.

"....."

Again, silence greeted. I'm still silent, not responding to anything you've said. My mind is still busy conspiring, imagining how many possibilities there are about every change in attitude that you have shown and digesting a little about many situations, as well as other possibilities that say this is reality. To be honest, I still can't believe that this is really the truth…!

I don't dislike, it's just, the writer in my story is a little different, he likes to see the character suffer.

A huge hand landed on top of my fiery red hair, I looked up, looking at someone who was patting my head quite gently, a little sore. My blue eyes and father met each other, making me a little curious about my current behavior.

"Why?" My sky blue iris is slightly sharpened. It's not that I don't like the treatment, but I've grown up, been a Grand Duke anyway, it's a little embarrassing..!

"Why is your reaction like that? In fact, according to the book I read children like if his head is patted with feelings of affection.."

"Dad, I am your son, young lord Azerentra and heir to your throne. So, do you think I'll be the same as all the other kids?!"

I'm ashamed, please stop…!

Dad raised both his hands up, as if showing with a gesture if he gave up. "Alright, alright. So, does this young master of Azerentra want a walk in the park?"

"Yes, whatever.."

Hearing the answer from me, dad only responded with a smile. He did not say any more words, just ahead of me to the door and out. Strange, seeing himself showing that sturdy back, I seemed to want to hug him and say "How lucky I am to have been born as your son.."

Elsewhere, in the middle of nowhere. There, in a room, a big debate took place. The sound of screaming continued to be heard from inside the room.

"Writer, how can you play a game of human life? Today, should Grand Duke Azerentra be gone, a funeral was held at the residence of Azerentra and his heir ascended to the throne. Yet, you keep him alive? Author, this is against the rules of the world..!" Someone shouted, he pointed his index finger at someone who was turning his back on him up there.

A pen with beautiful feathers floated towards someone who had originally protested, the hairy pen almost hit his dark, starless black eyes. The author, call him that, nobody knows he's a woman or a man. White robed, with dark black hair and a slight red color. "You, don't agree? After all, I was the one who saved her and it was imperative for her to return the favor, right? God of death, Azura?!" With a blink of an eye, the author was already before the god of death.

"You, you didn't save him, but used him to become one of those characters who would either end up tragic or happy end!"

"Oh yeah? I don't feel that way.." The writer blinked one of his eyes, not feeling guilty at all.

"You, using the white souls to get one of the Main Characters, you're using yourself as one of the plotters and discarding it if it's useless..!"

"......." The writer fell silent, staring at the face of the death god Azura "pfftt.. Ahhaha..!" The writer laughed, wiping some tears down from the crackle. "Oh Azura's god of death, do you think you can be free from the sight of my papers and pens? Want to stop myself? How's it?!"

"......"

"can't answer? then go, and never return to my throne..!"

The god of death Azura stared intently at "You think you can become God just because he gave you high authority? Your dreams are too high for writers!" After saying those words, the Death God Azura stepped away, her feelings chaotic. Though he was created without feeling, the damn writer changed him, making him an abandoned Main Character.

......SERIATE......