Transmigrated to Game World with SSS Wife-Chapter 34: Nightmare

[Nick's PoV]

For the first time in a while, he could dream again. It was so pleasant–he no longer felt fear or doubt or sadness. Instead, he was sitting in a nice meadow, eating a fine meal with 2 gorgeous ladies–bich and squeak.

'Squeak?' Yeah, he supposed that was a good nickname for Amelia. Just like a mouse, her shrill voice when she was embarrassed was beyond adorable.

He smiled as she took another bite of her steak. She even piled her food into her face like some kind of chipmunk.

Her face grew red as she noticed him watching her. Quickly swallowing, she cut the rest of her meal, steak with garlic butter, asparagus, and mashed potatoes with cloves, into small and fine pieces. Then she took extra care to eat like a fine lady.

Juliana offered a small grunt of approval, already eating properly herself.

Nick shook his head with a small chuckle, knowing that if he wasn't scared out of his mind by being next to 2 gorgeous ladies, he'd probably be picking up his own steak with his hands.

He was a boy after all!

He took another bite of his food in between his smiles. As he bit down on the juicy steak, the entire dream changed.

A coldness washed over him as his expression fell.

As usual, all dreams were only a veil over a nightmare.

The meadow turned into a waiting room, the girls into nurses. His meal turned into a health report. Air itself chilled as the atmosphere grew desolate.

Despite the doctor's promise that his father's health was returning, the newest report showed otherwise.

Soon, he'd be seeing his father take his final breath. Again.

Nick was holding the clipboard so tight it was almost breaking. He knew he had to remain strong– that his father, even while on his deathbed, was remaining strong. So that's the least he could do now. No tears, no weakness.

Only doing his best to offer peace during his father's final moments.

He should be able to by now. After his father passed the first time, he's lived through this nightmare how many times? Countless.

And besides, after he transmigrated he found a new life and purpose. He found more ways to gain strength.

Yet now, when his sword was replaced with his father's death report, he felt nothing but weak and alone.

Maybe he really was just weak, always weak. Someone who would never escape the shadows of death.

Maybe everyone he ever knew or met was only meant to die.

His eyes were completely dry as a nurse walked up to him, saying "Nick? They're waiting for you in room 317b. Follow me, I'll lead you to them."

Them?

What does that mean?

Them?

He tucked the clipboard close as he followed her brisk pace. Most nurses he knew sort of strolled to their destination, giving ample time to catch up. But she was moving like a gold medalist or something.

The hallway lights echoed, turning into a blur as they went past room after room.

116, 117, 118.

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People hurt or dying or maybe just there for a checkup. Still, they were only places of healing because of injury, because of destruction. The only difference between a hospital and a morgue was that, in a hospital, the dead talked.

If pain and strife didn't exist, all of those doors wouldn't exist. His father would've never been in one of these rooms hanging on for dear life. He wouldn't be running to see these new people.

Whoever they were.

Them–Juliana and?

The echoed lights flashed over his eyes as a pulsing strobe as he lost his balance for a second. Without a word, his nurse stopped completely the moment his arm touched the wall.

Nick spent a few seconds catching his breath. Periodically, he'd glance in her direction.

Still. Almost like she was a robot or something that turned off.

Pushing himself off the wall, Nick ignored his hand falling to his side lifelessly as he walked towards her. Not even a single muscle twitched as he walked ahead of her.

He stared into empty eyes.

Empty– not literally, and not like someone who was grieving. Moreso, it was like no part of her consciousness existed anymore.

For just a second, her eyes were completely empty like that. Then, as if sensing him, her eyes lit up with joy as she said, "Nick? He's waiting for you in room 317b. Follow me, I'll lead you to him."

Him? Now was he going to see his father like he originally thought?

Then why didn't the room change at all?

'Nightmares don't need to make sense.' Nick decided as he followed the nurse.

It was true though. It was rare to even remember a dream. For one to not only be this vivid but to also make sense–well, it would be so extraordinary it couldn't be called a dream.

"Hey, follow me!" The nurse called out, already quite a few rooms ahead of Nick.

He had no time to be lost in his thoughts, she was moving far too quickly again.

Her haste didn't make much sense as there was no one else in the halls. As far as he could tell, the entire hospital was empty save for them, the nurses at the register, and his dying father. It wasn't like there were any other patients for her to tend to.

Still, she bolted through the halls as fast as lightning.

After a few more minutes they finally reached the room. 317b. If there was one good part about her speed, it made the journey far faster.

Now, all he'd have to do is open the door, do whatever the nightmare wanted him to, and then he'd be back to the game world killing the Mizukai and saving Juliana.

Yes, all he'd do is face his worst nightmare. That's how it happened in books, right?

He took a deep breath as he prepared to open the door. The knob was freshly polished, a bright gold that could illuminate any darkness.

Nick breathed deeply again as he placed his hand on the door. Just turn it right, face Father, and the nightmare is over. Simple task.

The nurse smiled graciously as she pushed herself in front of Nick and opened the door herself. A soft laugh escaped Nick as he was embarrassed. Even though the nurse continued smiling, he could tell that underneath it she was irritated.

She made a grand gesture toward the now-open room, saying, "Here! Room 317b, Progenitor of Destruction. Now, I'll leave you with him!"

'Huh? Progenitor–why would she use that title?' He had no chance to ask as she poofed into smoke.

Behind her, he saw the patient lying on the bed. Nick gasped because it wasn't his father like he had expected.

It was Fynn.

Completely motionless and still as he looked at the roof. Every few seconds a soft, lunatic smile or chuckle would dance on his lips. Otherwise, he was in a completely catatonic state.

"This is a Nightmare, Young Progenitor. That there is one of yours. Down the hall, you'll find another– your father. For now, that room is held under lock and key."

A familiar voice called from behind him. One he knew but couldn't quite place.

Nick turned around to see a rough-looking man in his 30s. He wore tattered biker's clothes even though his hair was well-kempt and slicked back.

The man smiled and said, "Hello, Nick. I am Ethos, Apostle of the Remembered. In other words, I am the Avatar of your Nightmare."